I plan on applying to the Scan l Design Fellowship my second year of grad school, which equals a semester at The Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, and perhaps, a free helmet and hug.
I ate it on 10th and SW Washington in early April thanks to some light rain and the above mentioned tracks. I gave a little wave to the driver behind me, a small thanks for not running me over.
Slacker that I am (so much is going on with bike ish here), there is more to come: Will Fain lives here(!) and just built up a nice Peugeot with the help of some folks over at Bike Farm. The weekend forecast is a blazing 90 and Martino's sister, the legendary V, will be visiting up from SF.
Thanks to several mishaps, I know look and feel like one of the Hanson brothers.
Reports from the PDX foxhole will be forth coming, even if I have to rip the suckers from my gut. Promise. Much love to NYC, especially the Prospect Park kids.
I entered Orlo's Doug Fir fiction contest back in June right before I left Brooklyn. My story and some hard earned cash for the small entry fee beared some fruit. I placed fourth and was granted a little name recognition in the current issue of The Bear Deluxe. Check it out, kids.
More frequent updates with bike gang pictures to come, promise.
In making the swift move from right to left, east to west in late May, I inadvertently left Dave Praeger’s brilliant book swirling the proverbial poop shoot. The man got a write-up in The New York Times for crying out loud. The least I could do is mention that a good friend is now officially published and circling the globe promoting his new book: Poop Culture: How America Is Shaped By Its Grossest National Product.
I first met Dave via The Ks at the now extinct Lula Lounge, one hand grappling a trombone while the other gripped a cold beer. I quickly learned of his poop writing over the course of several intense Sunday morning football games in Prospect Park. When Dave missed a game on a snowy Brooklyn morning it was because, "Oh, someone wants to publish Dave's book." Everyone was so chill about it. In my world it's kind of a big fucking deal. The dude was even featured on the BBC before he even published Poop Culture!
Rather than buying a one note joke (with several supporting puns) about ripping ass for $15, you find what one reader called, "The first book on poop since Dominique Laporte's History of Shit that I would call top notch." Dave manages to delve into the historical, sociological, and economic realms of poop in an interesting and engaging manner, all while providing possible solutions to some of our most pivotal problems concerning the disposal of waste.
Dave currently updates his book blog regularly. Just recently he expounded upon the paradox of public bathrooms, which are almost always non-existent in large cities--thank you New York. At least check out Dave's current adventures in India at Jenny's flickr account. Jenny, by the way, is Dave's intelligent and equally talented wife.
Here's Dave's lecture about poop and the media. Yup, he's a heady fucker.
As some of you know, I'm currently training for a marathon. I haven't run this hard since college cross country before I killed my knee. I've been running twenty milers in the woods every Sunday this past month. In response to my aching legs....
Unlike most of my cohorts in high school, I wasn't obsessed with Prefontaine. I studied odd guys like Gerry Lindgren, and especially Dave Wottle. He wasn't a purist snob. He wore a hat while racing for christ's sake. He got married when everyone told him he shouldn't, trained when he could despite cruddy knees, and took advantage of a dare to be great moment.
