says more about you

It is to laugh. The Full(ish) Sturgeon Moon did not disappoint- mild, clear as a bell, magic on the trails. One of the little brown guys on bikes too big for them steered at me on purpose (trying to make me sweat?) in an unsuccessful Chicken maneuver as I took the bike path back in from Cside(!). PYT (Michael Jackson's finest hour) was on full blast last night at Ody's; which smelled of mold and too much body spray. Quite the dive. Recommendo.


Also, if you live at a trail head...well, you're gonna get yours and to be upset about it is churlish. Viz:

The Sudden Walk

by Franz Kafka

Translated by Willa and Edwin Muir

When it looks as if you had made up your mind finally to stay at home for the evening, when you have put on your house jacket and sat down after supper with a light on the table to the piece of work or the game that usually precedes your going to bed, when the weather outside is unpleasant so that staying indoors seems natural, and when you have already been sitting quietly at the table for so long that your departure must occasion surprise to everyone, when, besides, the stairs are in darkness and the front door locked, and in spite of all that you have started up in a sudden fit of restlessness, changed your jacket, abruptly dressed yourself for the street, explained that you must go out and with a few curt words of leave-taking actually gone out, banging the flat door more or less hastily according to the degree of displeasure you think you have left behind you, and when you find yourself once more in the street with limbs swinging extra freely in answer to the unexpected liberty you have procured for them, when as a result of this decisive action you feel concentrated within yourself all the potentialities of decisive action, when you recognize with more than usual significance that your strength is greater than your need to accomplish effortlessly the swiftest of changes and to cope with it, when in this frame of mind you go striding down the long streets - then for that evening you have completely got away from your family, which fades into insubstantiality, while you yourself, a firm, boldly drawn black figure, slapping yourself on the thigh, grow to your true stature.

All this is still heightened if at such a late hour in the evening you look up a friend to see how he is getting on.

...whether you got a sleeping baby or not. Here's mud in your eye. Back at it tomorrow night, Wednesday at 8pm. The wino beach. Be there or be looked up.