The Bicycle Comes Out Of Storage

Just to give you a sense of what my life is like these days, last week I did something I hadn't done in over a year and a half. I got my bike out of storage and unfolded it. I ride a Dahon folder, the kind of bike that inspires children (and adults) everywhere to approach me and say, "Cool bike!"

(I purchased this bike for a previous job - I rode it to the subway station, and took the train to North Hollywood for a year-and-a-half. In my opinion, the Los Angeles Metro, and the act of taking public transit in LA, are both severely underrated.)

I checked the gears, I pumped the tires, and I hopped on. And I took a ride through the slopes and trees of Hancock Park, rolling past million dollar homes with well-manicured lawns. I biked to the video store, picked up a copy of Zathura. Then to the library, where I sat down to write down some thoughts on Pillow Crisis.

There was a moment after pedaling vigorously to reach the crest of a hill, where I could then stretch my legs and coast, and the breeze hit my face and the sun was just right, in which I thought to myself:

I'm doing this on a weekday afternoon. In Los Angeles, of all places.

And I should have done this months ago.