Saturday was open. Up early and made coffee in the underground lair while listening to the Bosstones. Headed out for a walk with Titus.
Talked about nihilism and child prodigies. Sartre and the Stoics. The weekly menu and cooking rotation as an element everyday existence. Russian prisoner camps and optimism. Canadian Literature and its identity crisis. Drank coffee.
Later. Bike ride. Old haunts have changed color. Watched some light dance in the sky.
Soon I will eat my fill of instant-pot French-dip sandwiches and most likely fall asleep watching the Habs game before I pull myself up the stairs to collapse and sleep the sleep of Ivan Denisovich. I have a bed and some SkratchLabs for tomorrow so tonight I am the King of all I survey.
Got out to meet Titus for a ride today. On my way I stopped on the walking bridge across the Nashwaak River to watch for a bit and I was talking to myself as I usually do. I was actually talking out loud, so people – if there were any around – could’ve heard me. Then it occurred to me that I had no idea ‘who’ was talking. I don’t know who was talking really, or whom that person was talking to. Who was even listening? Who is the person hearing it? Sam Harris tells a funny story about this. When we are talking to ourselves – why are we talking to ourselves? We already know what we’re thinking – why do we tell it back to ourselves?
It occurred to me that in a way, my life is like a movie that I am both the only director and only audience of. Sometimes the other actors in my movie don’t follow or respond to direction. This can equate to suffering, if you choose to let it. Or not.
The last four photos of this were a bit of an accident. I got down this hill and expected Titus to come barreling down it, which I thought would make for a great photo. He was taking forever to show up, then he appeared – walking. He’d decided to walk a tricky section.
Damn actors, not following direction. What’s one to do?
Took a ride with Titus out the Lincoln Trail and Post Road to our Fredericton Junction coffee spot. We voiced cartoon voices along the way for all the animals we encountered (because Saturday Morning Cartoons, right?) which consisted of bald eagles, a heron, squirrels, ducks, turkey vultures, sheep, a goat, and various dogs. You know when you’re in the Clubhouse before the ride in the morning and it’s still dark out it’s going to be a good day. Post-ride snacks were excellent.
Went out for an MTB ride in Penniac at the Hadley trail system. We were on the clock and Andrew flatted so was a short ride, but good to get out none-the-less. Nice light in the Corrective Action Bicycle Club clubhouse for pre-ride coffee.
Went out on a road ride with @spoke_n_words because apparently these are still a thing. In typical form we managed to still ride some ‘non-road’ sections. I believe now that #gravel is a thing you can’t call them sectiONS, you have to call the sectORS, so we done rode some of those. I somehow managed even on my ‘road’ bike – #rollinon28s – which I think makes me an underbike commando. We also covered some bridges, seened some scenery and @spoke_n_words took some calls to do some day trading. Overall we rode some roads on the road bikes, but off-road as well. Some that might be considered #dirt or #gravel roads. We rode all the roads. We rode roads.
Got up to go ride with Titus, had planned on riding the Cross Check, but during pre-ride check I noticed a broken chain-link. I couldn’t get it fixed and was running out of time to meet up, so rode the Karate Monkey instead. Once I met up with Titus, he flatted twice in a 1/2 hour and used all his spare tubes, so we sat at a cafe and drank coffee till his Team Car picked him up. Then I took the long way home. Changes in plans are just that, changes in plans.
On the way home stopped by the LBS to get a new chain, also picked up a fancy bear bell with an ‘on/off’ switch. What a time to be alive.
Went for a bike ride. Posted a few words on Instagram about it:
Went for a bike ride with @spoke_n_words today. I can’t tell you everything we talked about – Instagram limits us to 2200 characters. I just used up 115. We talked about how that is part of the struggle today. That there’s so much to be said, and little place to say it anymore. And people have little time or patience to listen. We talked about my constant struggle to be on this platform and in this space when it seems to be hypocritical. If one is trying to spread positive mojo but resorts to using an inherently flawed or nefarious tool, ethically, is that a win? If you shouldn’t shop on Amazon because of their corporate practices – should you be reading and posting on Instagram in light of theirs – and by ‘theirs’ we all know I mean ‘Facebook’s’? Is it ok to use a bad platform for good? Is that even ethically possible? If you’re using the platform, are you not tacitly endorsing the business model? In light of what’s going down these days, does it make any sense to use tools ultimately designed to addict us with no concern for the outcome, by entities that only care about ad revenue? Can you institute change from within? Can you use the tools of your oppressors to facilitate revolution? I don’t know. I know I struggle with using this no matter how much warm fuzzy bike content I can pump out. There is a MUCH larger conversation that we need to have today, and it can’t – and shouldn’t – be had here. If you do one thing today, think about that – don’t blindly use these tools. Think. We also rode bikes, got dirty, drank coffee, ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, fought off pheasant and in general had the best time we possibly could conceive of having within those moments. And I took this one picture that really won’t convey that at all, but if you’re like me, one of the reasons I AM still on this platform is because very often, I’ll crack open this app and see something someone else has posted that will instantly remind me that I need to put the phone down and be somewhere else. That’s the revolution.