About a Bike

its what'd I'd say to my two wheel steed.
It is about the bike.

the sound of the fountain blanks out any issues, words
thoughts or ideas
For a recovery ride, this destination
its where I needed to be

I brought a themas of La Colombe coffee.
a navel orange
stopped on the way
to get, one chocolate, one almond, croissants.

My bike she's done.  Added the baskets.  bought a lock.
I feel good with it.
Maybe a some tweaks, kwell a rattle, toe cages might not be right for a drunken ride.

I owe'd it a portrait.
The water sprays, pressurized up into the air.
Millions, Billions.  of droplets pound down clapping against the surface tension.
drowned out
any thoughts I had.
Who cares who won Flanders.

My mind is quiet.
I sat not thinkin
A few tourist. 1/2 dozen homeless. couple of cheerful young kids, running the circle.

it is not about me at all its about my bike

see you out there, dlowe.


live skull

I tapped the white porcelain cap against the brown bottle
trying to get a bit of attention
from the rowers

kris kristofferson - "stairway to the bottom"

the new Kris Kristofferson album is so far my #1 this year.
its in his voice.   you can tell his age, and that he's not hiding anything, just singing, his songs.

I've fallen deep in love with the Free Spirit.  Its been put to pasture, no more SScx racing to be done on it, that'd be not fair,  I don't want to rattle its bones apart.
I put on a rack and a kick stand.   Then headed out on my recovery ride, to get some beer.
sat by the river and ate my lunch.
with ear buds in
looking at the river, and 76
listening to jake brakes and Kris
watching the water lap up
from the skulls wakes.

a Nap, ... out tonight to see the great Thalia Zedek at Kung Fu Necktie.

cheers to recovering, d.

Wide Awake and "Feeling Mortal"   check it out.


E by SE

just on the bike path, headed back from Valley Forge.  Mesmerized by my pedaling shadow.  Leading me out to the front, a bit to the left.  Upper body smooth, chin tucked in, like a boxer.   Steady, into the wind, with the wind, and then a cross.    Along side train tracks,  freight cars.   I pass the engine.  Hand the red lantern to another bloke this time.  

I'm looking forward to work tomorrow, not that its a paid day.    better.  
I'll pack all the gear I have, the Canon 5d, the bits,  and the bike.
to the opera house in Jim Thorpe to shoot, I hope, get some shit useable, for the music video.

now, I look at my bike.   Facing left.  Front tire almost seems stopped from moving on.   Square to the wall, just touching.

I enjoy writing.  I'm poor at it.   but some how, its what I feel connected to.

so many things are easy.
but this one thing
should work at it a bit
I'd get you to feel, to conjure up some image, scene.

I won't forget that I'm a minion.

funny not to have some editorial photos,
I'll put my head on the train tracks, an ear on the rail, and listen.

Cheers, d. lowe.


Perceived Exertion

I stripped on the porch,  my white pink toes on the cold red brick.  Leaving damp prints through the house, and dripped into the closet.

I wrapped myself with the towel I'd bought on a trip to southern Spain.  I sat on the beach with my wife,  hot days,  long evenings, the sun didn't set till late.  I drank big bottles of San Miguel, I bought and carried back from the corner market.  The small glass of beer from the hotel bar was to $.   and the richer rented small villa, net draped beds, and lounged.  We sat on towels bought at a market.  on the waters edge, for free.

Today the pedals turned over easy, I was shifting up, and legs feeling good, turned the gears well.

I just got on the bike, headed up the driveway.  36 degrees, drizzle.  Turned right and went towards Gladwyne.   Pedal through the school zone, eating some bread and cheese.  Down the hill.  and wove around the small hills, following the creek down to the river, and the climbs back up to route 23.

Must of been the team intern, in a team vest, over a cotton grey sweatshirt, waving a bit of newspaper, the lad was shivering, I must of been the last to crest.
Grabbed and slid under the base layer against my damp chest.
Hit the downhill, coasting soft pedaling along side of a black range rover.  going 36mph
I stuck out my tongue like a kid, taunting, at the kid sitting in the front seat.
I leaned my bike back and forth, like Steve wonder playing a tune.
Jump a few pot holes and I gave him the Rock n Roll devil horns.
he was sped off to school.

I was ether off the front, in no mans land, or dropped I don't know.  but  I pedaled on.

In traffic, headlights, oil on the high center of the lane and puddles in the wheel troughs.

I crossed a painted white line.  that was it. done. soft pedaled.  a small can of coke was handed to me.
I unclipped,  pedal and pushed one legged up the drive.  Sipped, stripped and steamed.

I'm not quite sure how to enter this one into my training journal. 
and mind is quite full of thoughts, stories, truths and fiction, too many to write.

Off to work, then to see Nick Cave.

CHEERS!   dlowe.


blue collar

somewhere along the way, American workers, the labor force,  have been made to look down upon ourselves, that we, the labor, the blue collar, deserve what we get.   That we are too stupid to be treated fairly.  We let the White collars take, we expect it, they outsmart us, and steal our pensions, keep pay low, send work to China, a place where the humans are so lowly of this world, that they should toil away for meager wages, polluted environment, no political rights.  Basic happiness.

the drives ride started tonight.  The clocks been move forward, there's enough light to get two laps in, nine showed up to ride, on the tradition,  we meet at the Falls bridge,  acted aloof a bit, like roadies do,   my Garmin hit 6:31, I pointed my bike towards the lane, we took the road, away we went.

Tuesday I was also in Doylestown and was able to take in the Minds Eye at the Michener Gallery.
I don't understand Jerry Uselmann's photographs.   but his layered hand composited photograph work is great.    I'm not sure why, but no photos can be taken inside the galleries, would not want to "steal the soul" and expose it to others.  

a Uelsmann photo stolen from the internet and used without permissions.

Americans are cowboys.   We work hard, tough.   and growth of the independent, the few outside the norms,  Brewers, bakers, Etsy makers, show that long hours and a pride still can exists.  at the gallery I grabbed a  book from the book store and carried it back to a small room in the gallery, a room dedicated to,
that held a few tables and chairs made by George Nakashima: "In a world where manual skills are shunned we believe in them, not only in the act of producing a better product, but in the sheer joy of doing or becoming. We feel that pride in craftsmanship, of doing as perfect a job as possible, of producing something of beauty even out of nature's discards, are all homely attributes that can be reconsidered."

When Ford invented the assembly line, workers were glad to give up the risk of self-employment, craftsmanship, to step into a row of bolt twister,  with limited skills.  They made $$$.   had kids, bought, cars, houses, TV's.... sent kids to college... retired

and a few impassioned,  risked life and livelihood, and fought for rights,
Unions formed, lives were lost; for a 8hr work day, fair wages,  child labor laws,.. 

I always am amazed that we need a law establishing a Minimum wage,   ...that the disconnect, between the wealth and the labor is so far apart.    that caring for each others, despite what cloak we wear to work,  is still based on greed.    and somehow, I deserve my lot, I don't deserve to be treated better, ....I'm accepting of this....   just trying to keep what I have,  to protect my, my nest eggs, from the hawk.    I'm soft, lazy, in defending my rights, but I am no way deserving of not being treated fairly for the work I do.  Proud to be wearing a collar, stained with a bit of dirt, sweat, smarts.

where would I be without Museums, galleries, where art that I could never afford, that I would never chance to see, unless some Well-to-do-ers,  have a bit of compassion, to share it with me.   Thanks rich folk.



easy goes it

I got a cold Monday.  Rode w/Tony up the towpath, up the river from Trenton north.   On mtbikes, trudging along for 50miles, on Tuesday.  Then it set in.  

Today I got out early.   My cold, about done.   I've ridden my cross bike by this place, and with the snow, and the overgrowth, and the headstones,  it'd seem to be an easy place to take pictures.

I drove over, much in a un-like me manor, I stayed off the bike, just till I feel even better.  with the warm weather arriving, and wanting to race Sunday,  why make myself sicker.

its Mt. Vernon Cemetery.   I parked.  Climbed the fence,  and wondered about.

more hot tea, soup, watching movies, reading books.  stupid to say, but I hate being sick.

cheers, d.    


Be foxygen

I like the new Foxygen album,
Foxygen - No Destruction.

its retro, easy, it shows some smarts.   and maybe with some commitment and work, the band will improve, and become more original in its next output.

Last night I saw the band, it played solid and steady, the singer, fell apart, which was nice to see, that this show was not by the numbers, over-rehearsed show.   Tech issues, I guess, no sound check, problem with a cable, I don't know, maybe it was a bit staged,  his frustrated antics.   

drama queen, for sure

oh a hard day at the plant. 

Done, he quickly regained his composure, found his hat and cool coat, made some small talk, and strolled off the stage,  thinking Next big thing?
after the show I ran into an old friend Ed, I don't see much, but hit it off with easy.
he walked his nice city beater Schwinn with me back towards my car to stop at the Cheery St. lounge to get a drink.
Classic rock played in the bar. stones, lynard skynard, journey, good sounding, rich, loud but not in any way of inhibiting an animated discussion of our current lives.
Its nice to talk with someone that I don't see often.  We both pounded out rough ideas, strange directions our minds have been working at.    was like visiting a shrink,  put it out there, with your elbow on the bar.  the cash fanned out, the drinks.
We got last call.   finished the shrink office visit,  walked away with no thoughts on having to own up to.    that what was said was nothing more than questions, unfocused ideas, beliefs....
things to explore, 
Today I got out on the Cx bike, with a dull headache.
Did a regular loop, the Water Ice.
Its nice when I'm out riding, and I find a peace, a place, just pedaling along,  and feel an isolated self-important arrogance,
do what you do well, find it, refine it,
that's the mark, I want to achieve.
Be foxy.  dlowe.