The problem with owning a nice bike, much like a nice anything, is people are more likely to tell me how cool my bike is than how cool I am. I like to remain more clever than the instruments I use. People should not be defined by what they acquire or what they own, but entirely by what they create and what they do. Besides, we cry objectification when we become more valued for our, shall I say, natural assets than for our characters--how is the situation any different with purchased assets? Except in the latter case, we spend money to invite more of it.
I did flip my rear wheel to the fixed cog after all to control the wheel better, in light of my rainy wipeout. So far it's not very different from riding freewheel. Keeping up with the pedals isn't hard. Don't believe the hype that says riding fixed gear is somehow a lifestyle change.
Recently I have started to realize the relationships between me and some people I've known for a long time have really changed. I wonder how long it will be before they say to me, You were cool when I met you. To which I would probably reply, I feel the exact same way about you. Funny it would come to this, but I chose my part and I suppose I must play it for what it's worth.
Bad news from home. Still contemplating it, don't feel like writing about it until I'm done.
More after the revelation. I'll probably remain cryptic until then.
Showing posts with label objects. Show all posts
Showing posts with label objects. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
The Machines Of The Machines Of
I got a new cell phone. In case you think this is part of some continuing material trip of mine, let me point out that 1. my previous phone, which came free with my service, endured 5 years of being rained on, crushed, and generally abused (never misplaced) until the "Yes" and "Option" buttons stopped working (appropriately, the only option left to me was "No"), and held a 3-day charge until the end 2. this new phone was also free.
In any case, I performed the unenviable task of entering my entire phone book into my new phone manually. I probably have far fewer contacts than most people, but still there were too many, and I felt compelled to drop some along the way. Shed the dead weight. Many strange numbers in there, some that I kept out of sheer novelty--high school acquaintances I haven't spoken to since graduation, the girl I met at last year's Pitchfork Festival, etc. It was a bit of a pain. I started thinking that maybe I shouldn't have this many contacts; as with moving house, everything's just easier when you carry less.
But what is this talk? Since when have I ever been one to fear attachments and connections? I mean, come on. I'm the one who's been spieling for years about how kids tread too lightly and dissipate with the wind. I don't want to drag along what I don't have to, but I also don't want to fall victim to transience and triviality.
It's getting cooler. I'm sleeping with the windows open tonight. Summer's on its way out. I'm looking forward to autumn--colder temperatures are my element. There's something anticipatory about the shivers of the first drafts, as I walk down the street late at night, suddenly thinking that having a jacket might be nice, but it's probably just a trick of my mind. Seasons cycle and before I know it everyone's in for another slow summer burn without anything having really changed. The revelations don't come quite as often now that I'm not in high school anymore. Or maybe they do, and I'm just more hesitant to accept them as such.
Flannery and Becca are in town for the weekend. If I'm going to be an honorary B----, I had better start playing the part. It might be an interesting couple of days. A couple of weeks ago I mentioned coming back from Golden West with two unexpected things. I wrote about one, but as for the other...I made a phone call. I got one in return. I've been told to expect another. Who knows, maybe things can still change for one such as me.
In any case, I performed the unenviable task of entering my entire phone book into my new phone manually. I probably have far fewer contacts than most people, but still there were too many, and I felt compelled to drop some along the way. Shed the dead weight. Many strange numbers in there, some that I kept out of sheer novelty--high school acquaintances I haven't spoken to since graduation, the girl I met at last year's Pitchfork Festival, etc. It was a bit of a pain. I started thinking that maybe I shouldn't have this many contacts; as with moving house, everything's just easier when you carry less.
But what is this talk? Since when have I ever been one to fear attachments and connections? I mean, come on. I'm the one who's been spieling for years about how kids tread too lightly and dissipate with the wind. I don't want to drag along what I don't have to, but I also don't want to fall victim to transience and triviality.
It's getting cooler. I'm sleeping with the windows open tonight. Summer's on its way out. I'm looking forward to autumn--colder temperatures are my element. There's something anticipatory about the shivers of the first drafts, as I walk down the street late at night, suddenly thinking that having a jacket might be nice, but it's probably just a trick of my mind. Seasons cycle and before I know it everyone's in for another slow summer burn without anything having really changed. The revelations don't come quite as often now that I'm not in high school anymore. Or maybe they do, and I'm just more hesitant to accept them as such.
Flannery and Becca are in town for the weekend. If I'm going to be an honorary B----, I had better start playing the part. It might be an interesting couple of days. A couple of weeks ago I mentioned coming back from Golden West with two unexpected things. I wrote about one, but as for the other...I made a phone call. I got one in return. I've been told to expect another. Who knows, maybe things can still change for one such as me.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Materialism
Recently I have made two significant purchases.
This is a 20" Trek Soho S single-speed bicycle. I bought it from a guy in Hampden who'd ridden it twice in the 3 months he'd owned it for 28% off retail. It's the lightest bike I've ever seen; the elevator was out the day I brought it home and I carried it over my shoulder up the stairs to the 4th floor without much difficulty. It's fast, although it could be faster; I might try to get drop bars and a higher gear ratio in the future. (I've learned a lot about bikes in the past week.) Between this and the fact that mtamaryland.com now has Google Trip Planner, I feel exhilaratingly free; I can go anywhere I want in this city, anytime (at the cost of sweat and muscle fatigue--my legs have been sore for a few days). I rode down to the Lo-Fi a couple nights ago to see a show and rode right back up Charles when it was done. Coasting down San Martin at night is a very soothing experience. Eat my pants, OPEC!
Of course, as I have incredible talent for breaking things, I blew out the rear tire within the first 24 hours of owning the bike, on the way back from the Mt. Washington bike shop, no less. Sterling had to drive me and my bum wheel back to the bike shop to get the inner tube replaced. But I did get to meet these nice Hampdenites whose house I broke down in front of. One of them had a collection of Vespas in his garage--I think he was going for a retro-mod British Invasion thing--and another was a Canadian professor at MICA.
The other thing is the MacBook Pro "NoBook" (left) which is phasing out my trusty old Lenovo Thinkpad R52 "Thrushpad" (right) as word processor, Internet terminal, noisemaker, and instrument of general mischief. Drastic as the Windows-OS X migration is, I think the things I enjoy most about the new computer are how quiet, light, and non-waste heat-generating it is compared to the Thrushpad. It's kind of scary how easy this thing makes everything, e.g. installing applications and the like.
Mac and bike within the span of a week...the only thing saving me from descending completely into pretentious hipster hell is that "forbidden" sticker over the light-up Apple logo. That and the fact I haven't flipped the Trek's rear wheel to the fixie side. Yet.
This is a 20" Trek Soho S single-speed bicycle. I bought it from a guy in Hampden who'd ridden it twice in the 3 months he'd owned it for 28% off retail. It's the lightest bike I've ever seen; the elevator was out the day I brought it home and I carried it over my shoulder up the stairs to the 4th floor without much difficulty. It's fast, although it could be faster; I might try to get drop bars and a higher gear ratio in the future. (I've learned a lot about bikes in the past week.) Between this and the fact that mtamaryland.com now has Google Trip Planner, I feel exhilaratingly free; I can go anywhere I want in this city, anytime (at the cost of sweat and muscle fatigue--my legs have been sore for a few days). I rode down to the Lo-Fi a couple nights ago to see a show and rode right back up Charles when it was done. Coasting down San Martin at night is a very soothing experience. Eat my pants, OPEC!
Of course, as I have incredible talent for breaking things, I blew out the rear tire within the first 24 hours of owning the bike, on the way back from the Mt. Washington bike shop, no less. Sterling had to drive me and my bum wheel back to the bike shop to get the inner tube replaced. But I did get to meet these nice Hampdenites whose house I broke down in front of. One of them had a collection of Vespas in his garage--I think he was going for a retro-mod British Invasion thing--and another was a Canadian professor at MICA.
The other thing is the MacBook Pro "NoBook" (left) which is phasing out my trusty old Lenovo Thinkpad R52 "Thrushpad" (right) as word processor, Internet terminal, noisemaker, and instrument of general mischief. Drastic as the Windows-OS X migration is, I think the things I enjoy most about the new computer are how quiet, light, and non-waste heat-generating it is compared to the Thrushpad. It's kind of scary how easy this thing makes everything, e.g. installing applications and the like.
Mac and bike within the span of a week...the only thing saving me from descending completely into pretentious hipster hell is that "forbidden" sticker over the light-up Apple logo. That and the fact I haven't flipped the Trek's rear wheel to the fixie side. Yet.
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