Insomnia, Reflections of old bikes and big snows and curent woahs, had to be said in song and story
Let's turn back the hands of time until we break the little bastards wrists. It was the late nineties municipal revenue was slowly climbing up, we had a mayor trying to make downtown a showplace if you will. I rode a Kona Hot. I'd brought it with dreams of running the Iditabike before I was a messenger, I was a tad stressed at the time. She was a fine beast with a pair of SnowCat rims a home studded specialized cannibal size 2.2 in the back, a home studded Gary Fischer bear trax size 2.5 up front . Great in the deep snow and we got it. It would start early you might run the skinny tire bike at first but hit the seven inch mark at mid-day when the snow had been compressed, disturbed and churned up with car snot, then you needed some float tire pressures creeping down to 7psi as the afternoon progressed and there would be a certain rhythm as you rode when many fear to drive. It was good. You were on the road all afternoon until the last signature collected and yes it was good as you did that dance upon the snow-mix twisting and shifting as if you were making some strange kind of love with the bike and the road and the snow and the traffic, passing you and then they noticed that you were going as fast as anyone should go on that road at that time, the SUV paralleling you on the two-lane afraid to go faster and you laugh until you realize that when the SUV gets into the well deserved head-on they'll be pushed right into you. You dropped at the AG's office it was good. After a time one learned that it would take the city until midnight to clear downtown and what is a courier to do with time on his hands, a few bucks in his pocket (It was the late nineties there, Sonny Jim or Jill, cough, hack, expectorate) and single what to do but hang out in downtown bars. You drink a little too much because shit hurts and stay a little too long and tho you can find your true love there, it happens it really can and it did but not then, I'm just sayin' the odds are not good. So you ride half walk home because home is not downtown and not downtown was next on the plow list, you walk the last few blocks go to sleep, maybe do it again the next day and it's good. Then the weather started to change.......and now, you know who you are but I still love you. I am happy in my sleeplessness as I think fond thoughts of my sleeping sweethearts and I'm looking forward to a day with a friend from my past. BTW Once I was a D. J.
Feel the pavement when you bounce from it, hear the engine of a car roaring behind you, answer the static coming from your two-way, embrace the corner of the box that craves your spine while you´re carrying it in your bag, taste the cold and yet sweet taste of beer when it sparkles in your mouth.