She Moves In Mysterious Ways.
What a hell of a day. Let me just say beforehand, so i don't scare anyone, that i only have a couple cuts, and a sore thigh, and a bent front tire. And a belly full of cheesecake.
After finishing my last errand of the day, delivering my guitar to Eric Swanson's house in Redwood City to be delivered to Mendocino for me, I was hit by a car. A old SUV in fact. I was coming down this side street that doubles as an interchange between Woodside and El Camino. I was thinking about how crazy Redwood City drivers were being at that time... what the hell were they doing darting around like that? I don't know.
He turned left, and his bumper smacked the side of my bike straight on, and i did some sort of a backflip and magically landed on my feet!!!
I collect myself, and pick my bike up to look at it. It doesn't move. The gentleman who hit me gets out of his car, and we both look at the bike. I think, "wait a second," and check myself over. Minor bleeding. OK. I'm standing, walking... okay... the universe is smiling on me. I must have some good karma built up from somewhere.
"How much is a bike like this? Eight hundred? A thousand?"
"Probably like five hundred."
He hands me four Benjamins and a twenty. "Wow, thats very generous." I bid him a good night, and he drives off, and I walk off.
After walking down El Camino a bit to find a coffee shop, only finding a taco shop and pool house with no tissues in the bathrooms to clean up with, I realized the bike was still ridable for a short distance, so I went to Borrone's cafe in Menlo Park, and bought their last slice of cheesecake. I rode throught Atherton, and decided to violate their ridiculous 60 decibel noise ordinance by singing whatever song was in my head at the time. U2 and The Blank Tapes. Or is that The Police instead of U2. Who cares. Fantastic cheesecake, 22 bus home, bandaids, ice and heat compress.
I think maybe this is one of those "I'm Al Gore, and life is precious" moments.
That said, I won't be riding to Santa Rosa tomorrow.
After finishing my last errand of the day, delivering my guitar to Eric Swanson's house in Redwood City to be delivered to Mendocino for me, I was hit by a car. A old SUV in fact. I was coming down this side street that doubles as an interchange between Woodside and El Camino. I was thinking about how crazy Redwood City drivers were being at that time... what the hell were they doing darting around like that? I don't know.
He turned left, and his bumper smacked the side of my bike straight on, and i did some sort of a backflip and magically landed on my feet!!!
I collect myself, and pick my bike up to look at it. It doesn't move. The gentleman who hit me gets out of his car, and we both look at the bike. I think, "wait a second," and check myself over. Minor bleeding. OK. I'm standing, walking... okay... the universe is smiling on me. I must have some good karma built up from somewhere.
"How much is a bike like this? Eight hundred? A thousand?"
"Probably like five hundred."
He hands me four Benjamins and a twenty. "Wow, thats very generous." I bid him a good night, and he drives off, and I walk off.
After walking down El Camino a bit to find a coffee shop, only finding a taco shop and pool house with no tissues in the bathrooms to clean up with, I realized the bike was still ridable for a short distance, so I went to Borrone's cafe in Menlo Park, and bought their last slice of cheesecake. I rode throught Atherton, and decided to violate their ridiculous 60 decibel noise ordinance by singing whatever song was in my head at the time. U2 and The Blank Tapes. Or is that The Police instead of U2. Who cares. Fantastic cheesecake, 22 bus home, bandaids, ice and heat compress.
I think maybe this is one of those "I'm Al Gore, and life is precious" moments.
That said, I won't be riding to Santa Rosa tomorrow.