Crumbs

I nearly missed it. Just off the edge of the path, partly covered by leaves: a man's wallet. By the looks of it, it had been there a while. Address on the driver's license was familiar and not too far away. I'm happy I recognized the street name. I recognize so few things these days. In fact, it was a bit of luck that I was out on the path that day. They've only recently allowed me off grounds. Afraid I'll wander off and not be able to find my way back.

Since it was a short distance, I decided to walk over and return the wallet. Much better to be out and about on this fine day than wandering around that musty hospital. A clear purpose. Returning the wallet gave me a clear purpose, something I've been recently lacking.

Almost there. Should be a left at the corner, and then the third house on the right. Odd. How should I know it would be the third house?

I ring the doorbell and a woman opens the door. She starts to inquire as to my business when she suddenly freezes, staring at me. I explain about the wallet and assume that it must belong to her husband, and that it was really no trouble to bring it by, it being such a lovely day and all.

She throws the door aside, taking me up in her arms, tears streaming down her face.

I stammered, somewhat flustered, "My dear madam, there's no need for that. No need at all."

"Frank!" she cried, "Don't you understand? The wallet -- it's yours."

And They're Off!

Three races started, three races completed.
Three opportunities to test my limits and finding that they really aren't.
Three times remembering what a joy it is to be in motion.
Three perfect days.

I swear, I nearly burst into song.

Alberta Oil Sands update

Back in January of last year, I talked about the Alberta oil sands in this post. Andrew Nikiforuk has a new book out, Tar Sands, that discusses the environmental disaster unfolding in the boreal forests of northern Alberta. Although I recommend buying the book (it's the only way that people like Andrew can bring us this information), it's currently available as a free PDF download from D&M Publishers. If you don't have time to read the book, National Geographic has a feature article (along with some stunning photos) in the March 2009 issue.

Should be required reading for anyone applying for a driver's license.

Messages, part 2

This was the last one. Sad in a way, how small your life looked when packed up into boxes. Particularly a life smaller by half than when you first moved into these four rooms, with a view of the bay.

The movers would be here soon. She approached the machine, and with trembling fingers touched the play button. She listened to the message all the way through, and then hesitated only briefly before pressing delete.

Messages

Somehow, without noticing, she had managed to open the door to the apartment and now found herself wandering, lost in its four small rooms. A pale twilight filtering in through the window offered no clues. The blinking light of the answering machine drew her attention. Automatically, she pressed the play button.

“You have two messages. First message.”

“Jane, it’s Lisa. We just saw it on the news. Oh my God, are you okay? Call me as soon as you get this, I’ll be right over. You shouldn’t be alone at a…”

Not now, not yet. Maybe someday, but not now.

“Next message.”

“Honey, it’s David. The plane was delayed because of weather, but we should be taking off within the hour. See you soon. I love you.”

Her body began to convulse with uncontrollable sobs and would not stop for a long time.

April Showers

From VeloNews:

American reporter John Tesh caught up with Panasonic’s Theo de Rooy after the race (Paris-Roubaix, 1985) and asked him about his day in the saddle:

de Rooy: "It's a bollocks, this race! You're working like an animal, you don't have time to piss, you wet your pants. You're riding in mud like this, you're slipping ... it’s a pile of shit.”

Tesh: "Will you ever ride it again?"

de Rooy: "Sure, it's the most beautiful race in the world!"

Snowstorm

I created this world for myself.
Into it, I put everything
that keeps me
comfortable and warm.
Even with my eyes shut tight, I can reach out
and touch the things I know are there.

Today I stepped outside
and saw
that it wasn't a world at all.
It was just a tiny globe.

When I shook it
nothing moved,
except the snowflakes
that swirled around and around.

Why so serious?

Okay, time for a break from all the gloom and doom about the environment, courtesy of the immortal Glenn Miller:

Whew! That's a lot of driving

My brother was in town last weekend, so I ended up putting a lot of miles on the car. He's visually impaired, but oddly enough, that wasn't the reason we ended up spending a lot of time in the car. He's perfectly able to travel to/from work daily, using public transportation (he lives in DC). He was also able to make it all the way out to Seattle using a combination of buses, trains, and planes.

I drove to and from the airport because our light-rail link isn't up and running yet. I drove to and from the coast because there isn't any other way to get out there. I use public transportation sporadically, mainly because I normally ride my bike. Another reason is the nearest bus stop is a mile from my house.

My brother is literally at the mercy of our investments (or lack thereof) in public transportation. He's the canary in the coal mine of what will happen to the rest of us once the private automobile goes the way of the dodo.