Get Active!

 

A couple of weeks ago, I was doing about a thousand miles an hour on my bike, got to my destination, looked down, and I’ll be damned: I had ripped my tie!

This is when I realized, that I was indeed getting active… maybe even too active.

I’ve painted the entire East Bay. I’ve ridden the bike to meetings, to classes I was teaching, and to the errands in-between…

There is a Buddhist saying: “the man who doesn’t have 2 minutes to meditate needs two hours.”

Well, I finally got the time to meditate. My bike got stolen earlier today. I last saw it as I locked it up, on the corner of 19th and Valencia in the heart of the Mission District in San Francisco. I assume someone cut the bolt, and made away with my orange and silver Schwinn. I hope it serves whoever stole it well, after all, gas is 4.29 a gallon for the unleaded 87 octane in the City.

… so now I’m chilling on the couch.

Great! A little downtime to kick my feet up, properly enjoy this rainy Saturday , and even sneak in a couple March Madness matches… you know, chillin.

Well, this funny thing happens when I have downtime… I start reminiscing… usually about business, friends, the hood, philosophy… and women.

This time, all I could think about was my bike: I miss my bike, that was like my best friend for the past 3 months…

 

The shadow of a big head kid, rocking some headphones, while working on his bike in the backyard.
The shadow of a big head kid, rocking some headphones, while working on his bike in the backyard.

 

 

 

… Picture this …

One day, I showed up to Oakland Tech to teach a class full of boys with a wind breaker coat soaked from rain… took it off, only to reveal that my t-shirt had pitt stains from sweating.

 

…picture this…

Once day, I rode my bike through San Francisco, I was coming from editing a video and heading to a jam session at a warehouse on the docks. The rain was slightly under monsoon status. The wind was just under typhoon status. And all I wanted to do: get to pier 38. I didn’t know exactly where pier 38 was, but I knew where pier 39 was: that’s the carnival-esque tourist attraction, everyone knows where pier 39 is! … No one ever told me that pier 38 isn’t next to pier 39. No- it’s on the completely opposite side of the Embarcadero, because the docks are separated by evens and odds. Therefore, I had to ride all the way back to  pier 3, pier one, … and then pier 2 , pier 4, and so on…. I arrived to pier 38. soaked. I stayed long enough to notice that this “warehouse” party was essentially on the docks. And I was wet… this sucked.

As the wind whistled through the gaps in the warehouse walls, I made the move back to the BART Station. When I got to the BART Station, my clothes and hands were so wet and cold, it took 15 minutes to get the fare machine to accept my soggy bills.

… picture this…

Just last Saturday, March 12, 2011- after an evening of hanging out with a couple of lady friends, I hoped on my bike and rode a couple of laps around downtown Oakland. I bumped into fellow journalist Reginald James, and we talked briefly. It was 11:15pm when a lady interrupted us to ask for the time, we simultaneously pointed to the clock tower atop of the old Tribune building; and then we laughed. I shook Reggie’s hand on 12th and Broadway,  and then like: pewn! I shot out to East Oakland to my sister’s house, cause I had promised my niece and nephew that I would spend the night…by the time I arrived they would be asleep, but when they awoke, I told them about what happened to me during my bike ride to their house…

At approximately midnight, on a corner in an East Oakland neighborhood, I found $203 dollars in loose bills.

As I approached the money, I was so suspect looking   way for cops, drug dealers, pimps, Mexicans… No telling whose money this was… It was splattered as if it was previously stacked on the top of someone’s car- and they just pulled off… leaving the money all over this shady corner…

I hoped on the dough like kids on a piñata! gathering the large bills first: 20’s and 10’s only…stuffing them into my hood as I straddled my bike. Picking up an occasional five here and there…I grabbed what I could, and then I pulled away… My adrenaline was pumping… And then I looked back, there were 36 One dollar bills left on the ground. How do I know that there were 36? Because I went back! threw my bike down and picked up every bill.

I told my niece and nephew that story the following morning, and then gave em each a dollar and took them, along with my sister, to breakfast.

….

I took plenty of pictures while on my bike, but the most memorable times couldn’t be captured on camera.

There were other great stories during rides… I saw plenty of faces and places… I even created a photography folder on facebook about it.

I think it’s fitting that I lost my bike on the Saturday March 19th, 2011 … the day of the super moon! … If nothing else, the amazing moon serves as a scape goat for extracurricular energy. And tomorrow, when the super moon is replaced by the morning sun, it will be officially the start of Spring. The last photo I took of my bike was just yesterday at Cal Berkeley… where I found a bunch of human made cocoons… And everyone knows butterflies come out of the cocoon at the start of the Spring…

the last photo.

 

 

They got my bike, now I can’t ride; so I guess it’s time to fly….Get active!

 

peace.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Get Active!

  1. Last time my bike was stolen was sometime in late 2009. I had this hybrid road/mountain bike I got from Cycles of Change on Alameda Point. We had a good relationship. She was a “Ranger.” One day I leave her outside in my backyard. I was only supposed to be in for a minute. I fell asleep and woke up three hours later. I went outside in a panic– barefoot — and she was gone. I run all the way around the block — I may have only had draws and a robe on too — and didn’t see anything. I should have blogged, tweeted, and twitpic’d (cuz I didn’t file a po-po report) and went to the flea market. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t.

    Let me know if I need to get my cross-bow and ride my horse to the mission and light it up like Christmas tree…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s