Bike to Work Week 2010

At the beginning of this week I thought I'd do a day to day report on how this year's Bike to Work Week was shaping up. But I'm lazy. So here's a recap of the last 3 days, today, and prediction for tomorrow...

Monday: Looks like rain, find chicken shit on my sandals, bastards! Sprinkly sky = Ride townie w/ fenders, no hassle ese. Morning car carnage report - one dead cat, one dead squirrel, and no one's cleaned up the poor skunk who got killed on Saturday...

After work, take expensive new Surly Cross-Check to Bike Church in evening, cut off fork stem with hack saw. Attach stem to handle bars, still needs work/quality inspection. Never owned a new bike before - no dents, no rust, everything is so shiny! Don't know if I'll even feel comfortable riding it. Oh yeah, Pachamama (Mother Earth) is hemorrhaging oil from her veins deep down in the Gulf of Mexico...

Tuesday: Ride Bridgestone, intend to work on Surly headset as soon as I get home. Get home, chickens have broken into the garden and eaten' the kale. Bastards! Spend 45 minutes making makeshift barrier wall to protect what's left of plants, friends arrive, send chickens to bed early with no supper. Friends leave, spend another hour fixing a flat on Trek and adjusting rack, don't get around to Surly. Pachama still bleeding and BP and other oil corporate swinefucks are pointing fingers...

Wednesday: Ride Bridgestone, the number of bikes on the bike rack at work don't seem to have increased despite all the publicity. Reminds me that no matter how much we cajole, offer free breakfasts, massages, or eco-pretentiousness, the majority of people are never, ever, going to voluntarily give up driving. Pass a stack of wooden boards during ride home, don't realize at the time that this is foreshadowing. Get home, chickens have gotten past the "security wall" again and polished off the kale. Bastards! Hitch up trailer and go back and pick up wooden boards to beef up "security wall." Drink two beers and ponder cooking chickens. Surly sits in garage looking at me. Pachama is still bleeding.

Thursday: Official Bike to Work Day, woo hoo! Ride Bridgestone, get free massage, coffee is bad, bagels are gone, schmoozy white collar professional bicyclists are annoying. Hug n' kiss anarchist amigos instead. Will get home, chickens will have eaten trees and grass. Out of beer, must cook dinner, Surly will get neglected for some reason or another. Oil still gushing. Earth still warming.

Friday: Ride to work like I do everyday. Sun will be out, birds will be chirping. I will rot and smolder inside a box. Will get home, chickens will have eaten house, dogs and cats, and all the cars, and the entire neighborhood, and then run amuck downtown, pecking out the corporate logos and bourgeois boutiques, they'll eat the BP execs, and Monsanto and Goldman Sachs execs just for good measure. They'll eat all the debt and all the currency and all the logic that makes this silly industrial machine run, and finally, I'll have some time to get the Surly up and running, and by then, I won't even have to ride to work.