You know who's dangerous out there on the road? The "Intelligent Transportation" bus-limo motherfucker. That guy drives a decked-out short-bus, but handles it like a NYC taxi cab. The extra-wide side mirrors are just about at head-height for me on the Cobra. But I appreciate a good adversary.

What I really want to do though is get a little odometer/spedometer so I can start taking some data from my rides. I was in rare form along the Embarcaderro tonight, but i wonder just how much faster that means I went. Might be fun to graph!

In general news it's been a solid week of 10 hour days in the office, with after-hours wheeling and dealing to follow. End of the year means it's time to Glen Garry up; Always Be Closing, sucka.

Next week it'll be back up to the HC for the week, xmas party (gotta work on my talent show piece), and then things should start to decompress. I'm not sure yet what the plan is for the holidays. New Years in Portland seems like the default, but maybe a wild hare will strike. I feel like getting off the grid a bit, but really that just means ditching my laptop for a week.

I also want to get myself a camera for christmas and start fooling around w/that too.

Here comes the train.

Rocking a little free underground internet here at the Embarcaderro. I got royally soaked riding down from the office at 10:30pm when I finally arranged my exodus. Such is life in the KoneZone of late.

It actually felt good to ride in the rain. Really good. It's not ideal over the long haul, and I hope it clears up by tomorrow, but it's been quite some time since I felt the spatter of cool spring water on my face; swishing down slick glinty city streets flickering with yellow orange sodium vapor light... It made me feel young at heart, free and easy, like projing on home to Brooklyn back in the day.

I used to be much more rugged and rough, much more obviously confident, risk-inclined. If my train went off the track I picked it up, picked it up, picked it up. Those were glory days. Not the glory days oh ye of the nostalgia police, but a set of days glorious and undeniable. Their memory is worth keeping alive, the better for their spirit to live again.

So, you know, you can get this off the internet the same way I get most of my video entertainment (savvy?), and I just watched it and it was really good. I don't go for Moore's coy, "gee mister, don't people in Cuba have to pay for healthcare" character, but his films can be quite thoughtful, and this is some of his best work. The assembled stores really speak for themselves.

One thing that stuck out for me was this bit from France, where they make sure that if you're poor and you need to take a cab home you can walk out with some cash. There's a line where the French doctor says, when asked about paying bills, something along the lines of, "the only qualification for walking out is that you're healthy enough and are going someplace safe."

That hit home for me, reminded me of the bike crash that got me wearing a helmet:

Actually, the stitches are not that much of a pain. There were a few woozy moments in the ER, but the real damage is muscular. I righteously pulled out my groin and jammed by elbow, both on the left side. Heading in I could walk and move pretty well. Walking out of the hospital took me a full five minutes gimping along, coming close to out and out crying on the ramp leading to the street. It’s a hell of a thing to be totally incapacitated.