Monday morning I was sitting on the bench at the square reading the last book of Chalmers Johnson's trilogy
Nemesis: The last days of the American Republic (thanks Nate)when a fellow 'cyclist' rolled up on this rather ornate man powered vehicle. He kicked out the kick stand right next to me, sat down on the bench and fired up a grit. The bike sat there silently catching the morning sun which made this constant visual loud noise interrupting the words on the pages that I was trying to comprehend. The sound was something like,
create document drawn out slowly as if time was trying to stop. From this angle the bike appears worthy enough for the
King himself.
The cockpit of this fly ride was cluttered with all sorts of practical gadgetry options including a transistor radio that was hard wired to a standard telescopic antenna which was mounted on the back left hand side of the bike. Look closely and you will see me in the mirrors.
Art vs. comfort. Art won in a landslide victory with this
resplendent chunklet glue gunned to the center of the wide track saddle. The bike's owner told me that he always wears at least one layer of padded 'cycling' shorts when he rides.
The racing fork was adored with more priceless shiny matter that the owner found in an
east side debris field. It took a few months but the effort he put into creating his homemade
Spokey Dokes was well worth it.
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