Friday, April 8, 2011

ROAD to wear

Golden to Denver seemed like a much more interesting ride when suddenly this thought occurred to me. What if capitalism morphed into a choice driven opportunity that focused on rewarding those who most rewarded others?

Let's assume a state takes on this idea. I'm now curious. Given my affection for biking, what quality of bikes will this state produce? I'm serious (think about the larger implications of this discussion). Furthermore, how will we determine who is most rewarding others?

On my short drive from Golden to Denver, I think that I went from wanting to change capitalism to understanding its necessity. Unless we're going to make communism a reality such that we focus on trying to make all distribution of wealth equal without regard to effort, then I think we're doing ok.

So I must ask, why is my government shutting down if we're doing ok? Something must be really screwed up in the philosophy that our economy breads if we can shutdown a government during already difficult economic times.

Sunday, March 27, 2011


We love what we do, so we do it well.

It can be quite a risk to take that statement and let it invigorate my decision making.

My goal: let it happen.

Saturday, March 12, 2011


Comics can create cavelike chaos in the shadows that they cast. On the way into my office, one newspaper comic, among the many taped on my office door, caught my eye. The humor was as apparent as the meaning.

Man says: "...You can only feel alive and whole when other's are listening to you. What do you think?"

His friend: "About what?"

I have a friend who once told me that when he dies, he wants others to look back on his life and say, "Oh, I get it..but not all of it." This friend is an artist and he does some pretty wild things with his interactive art (including placing live piranhas in a kid's swimming pool so students can fish for them by wrapping meat around toy soldiers tied to the end of fishing line). He has much more abstract moments than the piranhas, but even then he seems to have some sense of wanting to be thought about, considered, and maybe not fully understood, but at least someone is making an effort. I like him for his creativity and consistent friendship. Hopefully, I'll make an effort to listen to the lyrics of the song that his artwork plays.

In my own life, it's fascinating to recognize truth. Sitting in the shadow of my own self, not for the sake of being acceptable, is more common than not because of the difficulty in sustaining the energy required to give more than a barley listening conversation. It hurts to participate in this act as much as it does to receive it. This past year, I got hit square in the jaw by what felt like a 300lb non-communicative fish taco. I put myself in the line of fire, but seriously, it was more than just a minor misunderstanding. Both of us produced the end result: a real absence of listening. I've been rethinking my actions ever since and recognized a little truth; the shadows can become home even when it's the last place that you want to live.

It's time to stop counting 13 ways to keep dawn's dim daylight at a distance. Turn around and watch the sunrise with me. We'll let the light showcase our full faces...and just maybe, we can learn to love what we see. If that's too vague, try this on: LET'S TALK. ALL OF US.

Thursday, February 24, 2011


For the long days at work that should have been lived outdoors on a bike, I handle a friendship for growing up in those frustrations that breath life into a now altered existence. For who can forever groan in pains of labor? There's a train traveling through my house, destroying all I thought that I held dear. Carbon frames, King bottom brackets, and a kit that screams "I am;" it all got laid to waste in this dream that found the shores of a lonely tide rolling in screaming streaks of moonlit wonder. I could see the reflection of my youth standing right in front of me and it reminded me of me. "There will be an answer, let it be." So I sat back and stared into the clouds designed to eerily paint the only light in the sky. Whispering now, it came through with a religion that left nothing to measure. There was no comparison to be made, just a simple tug at my voice. Who am I apart from the rest of the world's chalk line snapped high on a slippery overhang? Impossible to be, then my voice became. I heard it roll through the night like a hungry wolf howling for something beyond itself. The mood seemed to wrap itself around the orchestra passionately playing for the right to recreate a perfectly timed melody. Out of my shoes and onto the sand running so that time could not find me, the last ounce of strength was spent tearing out all that seemed to resist the freedom of embracing a measureless pride.

This, my friends, is how it feels to race for a cause. Come ride a bike with me and I guarantee you'll discover your passions. Together with good people, a team is being formed that will turn bikes into a curiosity that makes a wake worth noticing. You should be on this team.