maybe Baltimore is a pretend city.
full of pretend pain.
and that's its beauty.
When the early sun shines
and the poor, sturdy decay. The city birds chirping, sound happy to me.
as a joke, I road a two thousand dollar bike as hard as I could.
for once.
And a spare one in the pit.
What was important to me?
18th, 20th.
I drank hard cider, and cheap Mexican beer.
ate in a "miracle"
I slept with a dog.
and I have to say, as great as it all was, and is, I'm disappointed in myself,
for how I am human, and for how I raced.
each pothole.
city street I drove
I hit, made me think.
I've been hungry, poor, lonely, not fairly treated.
Nothing like you.
I think if i'd won. I'd like to think. I'd might of felt worse.
I'm sure I'd see more. From the elevation. Atop the podium.
I wouldn't of seen it if it weren't for you.
I do love you Charm City.
Last week I had penciled in a bunch of nights out seeing bands. My week filled up with work, and the work days went long. By Friday at work, I was tight. Randy.
I went out to the old dump, s. phila bar, that's been spic and spanned. the Boot and Saddle. Cleaned up, good beer, stylized and left in a bit of its old charms. To see an old Oi band, Hard Skin.
I like to be close to the stage.
the opening bands sucked. I thought a bit, no one boos, just polite applause. I booed.
I'm not sure that people even put it together, that I was showing my dis-approval, that I thought they sucked. It felt good.
Hard Skin, played hard, bantered, drank, and looked good.
a bit of sweat on the guitarist black shoe.
I've been seeing shows for a long time. and still love it.
I like to be up front. So close that sweat, spittle, banter, odor, heat, are within a few feet.
Today,
cx practice wasn't my best, in legs, mood. Handling was on, the bike feels good. Not a day that it all came together. and sometimes I just make myself finish, to keep going to cross the line, no matter the placement, or how fast. I did very little the rest of the day, mostly just laid about on the couch.
Everything has been more of a chore than normal. Today.
I got all the few things I had to do done. and I think apparently that's going to be enough.
now?
I feel a bit spectacular. I'm dressed well, nice shirt, pants, and black shoes. On to a good short glass of bourbon neat.
good weekend.
nice to get the couple of races done, I know what I lack and where, not that I'll fix it.
Nittany.
My take, each course has its personality, Nittany's, two geared.
Day one a bit tighter and better for me, day two I got smoked more.
not much difference on the course layout.
I like a course, a cross race that has distinct segments. Maybe broken up into 3 different souls.
Parts of the landscape that have a nuisance each. Nittany is all Nittany.
I'm not complaining.
fuck I sat and drank beers and told everyone around me that I yelled "fuck you" at the Olde Masters Women on the good line. Yes. Stupid on my part. but yep. make the most of it.
I know.
(taken from the web)
DTCV - "mouchette" why'd I listen? it was linked w/GBV.
I downloaded all their songs, it was a pay what you wish site, legit, their page, but it was a fight for me,
I gave nothing. might need to right that. Liking the music. and they play in Philly soon. but I don't think I can make the show.
Some people search head to head with racers, I don't know what I search for but was quite, so happy to see, that Galaxy 500 had a rider racing Gloucester in the start list:
Master 35+ 4/5 Dean Wareham TEAM - Galaxie 500
I don't think Its possible for me to make Gloucester, so, no fan ambush
I think about things, about how I act, what I say, I look at what's around me, I try to let it effect me.
I figure stuff out, and I hope I remember more than I forget.
at times there is nothing for me to shoot, then, its there.
I'm still learning the tools, to someday, capture some soul.
I looked at this work bench. I loaded in equipment into the garage. An interview with a widow. As I went back and forth taking the things I needed to light the interview, I looked at his work bench.
Just stopped in time. I'd say not touched.
I really tried to look at it, to see, a person, nuances. He was old, 80 I think I overheard.
Tools, placement, what you keep just in case, a radio, things, just a bunch of things.
I haven't figured out quite yet what I want to be in life. Its fun walking down the hallway, opening doors and peering in. One day I figure I'll feel a grasp around my ankle, a tight grip, and that will be it.
I'm not waiting for it.
I don't think there is a better moment in life than the time, of in the grid and awaiting the start of the cyclocross racing. .... the count down to the start, and that we are off, and it is at a random moment.
I like beer. I like to hear the bottles rattle when the door opens to the fridge.
Sitting at a race, looking into someone's dirty face, who cares who it is, they have just finished racing. Not back into the world yet, still with the gods. I take my feet off the cooler, reach down, and not even ask. Just pry the top off, and put it into the open hand.
This season was snerking up on me. With no Philly grass track, and no, yet, Phila. CX WO's, ta-dah, it was upon me....I race this Saturday and Sunday.
and without knowing it, it was handed to me, just put into my hand.
thanks to the love of DCCoD , recognizing my need, I raced, what I hold so Beloved, Grass Track. last Sunday, down in DE. I went hard, felt the need to barf. Felt the need to win. Felt fairness, of racing a mix class of racers, and not needing to pass. I got the chance to bury myself, to see what kinda suffering I have in me.
Photos: A. Rock
I am a boob. Full of rambunctious exuberance. Carbonation. I don't race to win, to prove anything, I race, because, the top has been pried off, that after some undetermined time, when the words 15 seconds is spoken by the official. A signal, whistle, gun, green light, movement, is given, and I gush forth, explode into life, and do my job. I am aflame.
I often try to put meaning to my life, to what and why I write or take photographs. I doubt I'll ever figure it out. but I do know, last night I could not sleep, and it was caused by, in almost such a simplistic embarrassed way, it was because of just riding around in a circle. In a park, on grass, with friends.
