Tidbits, Trains, and Cycling

"I'm ain't nothing but a dirty dog, a briny hound, a dirty dog." --Jimmie Revard's Oklahoma Playboys

Cycling loves me so much that reciprocating comes preternatural. Had a way sweet ride along the Richmond shoreline Saturday - Point Isabelle to Ferry Point then back through the tunnel by Point Richmond, through what the wife & I used to call "Illegal Activities Land", back to Point Isabelle. To top it off our wonderfully unhurried trio threw in some impromptu adventure mountain biking to attend a King Cake party at the Albany Landfill, where I of course got Frog (the saviour) in my slice of cake, and so will be hosting a party this Friday in Oakland (buzz me for details, or comment on this post). Little sore, super stoked, "like a couple of kids, flipping our lids".

Been wondering what gets us through the nights not fun. Each of us with our own set of tools - meditation, liquor, television, books with yellowed pages, hot baths, the wild wonders of ancient and modern medicine, + a wide variety of excercise routines. More to the point is what might get me through this dark & stormy now. Sleep, bicycling, better things. No Selping! (not Sleeping + Not Helping)

My favorite part in André Gide's "The Counterfeiters" was when they dared each other to lie between the tracks as a train passed over. Then that one guy (my hero) did it. He passed out from fear as the train passed over him, then woke up feeling transformed, not to mention with an awful ringing in his ears. I'm a firm believer in donning one's stunner shades, ear plugs, helmet, gloves, and going dumb. Push your luck!

"I'm going down to the railroad, lay my head on the track. When that train come along I'm going to jerk it back." --from Dirty Hangover Blues by W. Lee O'Daniel & His Hillbilly Boys. That line cracks me up every time. As Homer Simpson so astutely put it: "I thought I had an appetite for destruction but all I wanted was a club sandwich."

Best Mardi Gras Ever, Again

Every year gets better. I remember this year's festivities as one huge unforgettable Kodak moment, each and every second.

Waterfalls careening over the edge of the world, you know how I feel

Falcons on the wind under a big yellow moon, you know how I feel

Tigers leaping 12-foot walls become me

Sequoia yelled out to me as I danced fantastic leaps backwards while holding the parade banner, "You'll never grow old." Feel that too.

13 More Hours Until Mardi Gras Dawn

Last Mardi Gras lifted me so high that I could never finish the post about it. My Fat Tuesdays have only been better and better since I quit drinking (2004); more than just your garden variety fun, truly wild times. We had the second to last King Cake party last Friday at sunset up near the headwaters for Derby Creek, in Berzerkeley. The photo shows the tasty view from our chill party spot, ever new and powerful, rife with inspiration. Expectations are delusions, so I keep my hopes in check, while working steady setting up my fun dominoes to wash over me in way fun second line time.

Berkeley Mardi Gras

And a happy race still lives in the vast
forests of California, whose hearts
are not withered by pale care, whose limbs
harsh disease does not waste: the woods
feed them, the hollow cliffs shelter them,
the watered valley refreshes them, death’s
dark day looms over them unseen. Oh,
wise nature’s realms are defenceless
against our sinful daring! Their shores and caves
and peaceful woods lie open to our un-abating
fury: those violated races learn
misery’s invasion, unprecedented
greed: and happiness, fleeing, naked,
is pursued, into the western deeps.

--excerpt from Leopardi's Hymn To The Patriarchs (VIII)
(Or: The Beginnings Of The Human Race)

We held our first Berkeley Mardi Gras parade in 1991, according to my holy memory. The evolution never ceases to amaze. There's always a fresh crop of young people associated with various activist groups, and this year the oak tree sitters have added quite a bit. Of course, it's not just Fat Tuesday that's involved; we've been having king cake parties every weekend since Three Kings' Day (January 6th). The theme this year is Commuting the Death Sentence of Global Warming, hence the cooling tower in progress that you see here. I'm looking forward to tomorrow. We'll meet at dawn, and with any luck will keep dancing until midnight rings.