Wednesday, June 22, 2005
I'm feeling a bit woozy so I'll let others speak about my event of the day
Comments from readers concerning morning bike crash:
(a proper subject heading might be:) For whom the Bell…
My sympathy for your loss of Mr. Bell…
Was it Bianchi’s fault? Infatuation is a dangerous thing.
Comment from the sidelines (i.e. Mr. Bianchi chimes in – I am merely transcribing his thoughts; I know him that well):
Dear high-ups who make all the important decisions in this town, like about road stuff:
Cut us a break already. Today, Nina took me for a tour of the downtown. She was looking at some old warehouses there (her ideas come from who knows where) and she took me along for the ride. Never mind that the warehouses were along pebbly lanes (see photo below) that caused me severe nerve damage and rubber attrition. I’m not that young anymore.
Then she spun me around her stomping ground – the campus. I was pleased as pickles: a special bike line, important like, right in the middle of the main drag (University Ave)!
And look, I said: it continues on the little highway called Campus Drive! Man, this downtown stuff is cool! Good bye bike lanes, hello an urban existence!
But then, LO! It’s gone! Right there, in the middle of Campus Drive, the bike lane has disappeared! I had to think quick, take Nina by the ass and made her do a sharp turn off the drive toward the hospital, where we picked up roads and byways all the way to the Shorewood area.
The rest is history. I was out of breath, there was a bump, no warning, just like that, she wanted to turn, I missed the beat and threw her. I stood off to the side sulking (she got all the attention) as doctors and trained people with sirens and flashing lights emerged out of nowhere (the Shorewood factor, she tells me). I wasn’t even asked to help her home. Someone perched me on top of their van and gave Nina the comfy inside seat (the Madison=everyone-helps factor, she tells me).
Before signing off, I wanted to tell you high-ups that I think you treat bike lanes poorly as compared to regular traffic lanes. When I was scooting with her on U Ave, man those ditches, real DITCHES I tell you, many inches deep and wide, every couple of paces – WOOMP, and another and another: that’s just unreal. No wonder my nerves were frazzled and my rubber lost some its punch. I was made years older today.
Nina – she seems bouncy if not totally sprightly. That peasant stock line again. She has sprains and bruises but she, kind soul, is showing no ill feelings. She even took me out for an afternoon latte. True, she could not hold on to the cup well (embarrassing the both of us), but we managed the back and forth trip alright (between you and me, she’s a little off balance, but hey, at least she’s still kickin’. Or rather splashing, since I just saw her crawl up to soak in the bathtub).
Sincerely,
Mr. B
(a proper subject heading might be:) For whom the Bell…
My sympathy for your loss of Mr. Bell…
Was it Bianchi’s fault? Infatuation is a dangerous thing.
Comment from the sidelines (i.e. Mr. Bianchi chimes in – I am merely transcribing his thoughts; I know him that well):
Dear high-ups who make all the important decisions in this town, like about road stuff:
Cut us a break already. Today, Nina took me for a tour of the downtown. She was looking at some old warehouses there (her ideas come from who knows where) and she took me along for the ride. Never mind that the warehouses were along pebbly lanes (see photo below) that caused me severe nerve damage and rubber attrition. I’m not that young anymore.
Then she spun me around her stomping ground – the campus. I was pleased as pickles: a special bike line, important like, right in the middle of the main drag (University Ave)!
And look, I said: it continues on the little highway called Campus Drive! Man, this downtown stuff is cool! Good bye bike lanes, hello an urban existence!
But then, LO! It’s gone! Right there, in the middle of Campus Drive, the bike lane has disappeared! I had to think quick, take Nina by the ass and made her do a sharp turn off the drive toward the hospital, where we picked up roads and byways all the way to the Shorewood area.
The rest is history. I was out of breath, there was a bump, no warning, just like that, she wanted to turn, I missed the beat and threw her. I stood off to the side sulking (she got all the attention) as doctors and trained people with sirens and flashing lights emerged out of nowhere (the Shorewood factor, she tells me). I wasn’t even asked to help her home. Someone perched me on top of their van and gave Nina the comfy inside seat (the Madison=everyone-helps factor, she tells me).
Before signing off, I wanted to tell you high-ups that I think you treat bike lanes poorly as compared to regular traffic lanes. When I was scooting with her on U Ave, man those ditches, real DITCHES I tell you, many inches deep and wide, every couple of paces – WOOMP, and another and another: that’s just unreal. No wonder my nerves were frazzled and my rubber lost some its punch. I was made years older today.
Nina – she seems bouncy if not totally sprightly. That peasant stock line again. She has sprains and bruises but she, kind soul, is showing no ill feelings. She even took me out for an afternoon latte. True, she could not hold on to the cup well (embarrassing the both of us), but we managed the back and forth trip alright (between you and me, she’s a little off balance, but hey, at least she’s still kickin’. Or rather splashing, since I just saw her crawl up to soak in the bathtub).
Sincerely,
Mr. B
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