Cold and wet today in the nation's capital. I just typed Ampersandsuck into my login, which puts a whole new slant on things, really. Cold, dyslexic fingers on the keyboard. Crazybrave and I are about to boldly go forth to an amateur production of Joe Orton's Loot, and are hopefully going to get there in plenty of time to slurp a vino or three.
I was just thinking about why I like riding a bike in Canberra, even when my face is being hit by sleet:
1. I get to look at other riders. The other day I rode behind a woman who was kitted up in all the latest gear. She had a reflective jacket, not a daggy yellow vest like mine, but stylishly cut and trimmed with black; snug yet flattering cycle pants and dinky little rider's boots that fit into your pedals, embellished with yellow stripes to match the jacket. All good and well, except that she was riding the oldest, crappiest women's bike in the world. Maybe she thought she'd get the look in stages (in which case I'd recommend getting the flash bike first). Or maybe her real bike was in t'shop being repaired and she was riding her spare (or her granny's). Either way, it gave me the giggles for a good kilometre.
2. It gives me time to think in the midst of chaos. Even when my frozen cheeks are about to shatter into shards.
3. When I ride really quietly, I can hear the cockies by the side of the bike path (who don't even blink at bikes) crack husks with their beaks. Can't do that in a car.
Don't get me wrong, I love my car too. I drove it today, as it was fecking freezing and I had to go a bit further than normal to visit my Venerable Poet. Oh, the car is now officially a bomb. And not in the good sense of the word. Some little -- or big -- buggers ripped off the 'subaru' logo on the back a month ago and a few days ago either they or some other buggers broke the driver's side lock trying to break in. I don't think they'd want to joyride in it (a bit obvious), and there's nothing of value in it to nick (I asked the car stereo guy to install a cd player that worked but looked too cheap to nick); so I assume it's a vendetta against the paintedness of the car. I'm trying to work out how to run an eletric current through it at night so that if they touch it again they get zapped. Would serve them right. This is Canberra, not Sydney. I resent having to lock my car.
Waiting for crazybrave. Looking forward to a bit of thee-atar. Looking forward to a slug of whine [sic].
3 comments:
I think some cars just attract that sort of attention. My poor departed Excel got a door jimmied after I'd had it two weeks.
Then it was kicked and dented; had the aerial snapped off, the lock jimmied, the lock jimmied again, the passenger side window broken.
It was totally crap.
Some cars are just fated to be bombs, eh? That sounds like a frustratingly bad run of luck. At least in Sydney you have fairly decent pulic transport, not like our badly-named ACTION buses.
BB cast bombdom upon his last car by forgetting to close the driver's side door and backing out through a metal gate. Had to tie it together with wire and drive to a wreckers yard to get a new door, and was stopped on the way by a polite young policeman who asked if he was aware that his door was broken?
PUBLIC transport. Probably would have been cooler to type it as 'pubic' but it's not that kind of evening...
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