Posts will be a little thin this week, I'm afraid. Lots of traveling.
Today, I'm back to the real world after an epic weekend in New York. Cycling was de rigueur. I saw a nasty, near-tragedy between an early Saturday-morning coffee toting hipster and a careening bike-dude on Grand between W. Broadway and Wooster, pretty people on prettier bikes, and lots of orphans chained to sign-posts, old meters and stanchions.
Some of the abandoned bikes still looked rideable, though. And they were looking longingly at me. And I want one. "Wouldn't that little fella appreciate a nice home?" "Yeah, but what if he belongs to someone?" Stupid conscience.
My grandfather, who grew up poorer than dirt, was famous for, um, appropriating what he thought were abandoned items he found on his way home from work. He never said this, but his ethic seemed to be something like, "If it's within spitting distance of a trashcan or curb, it's up for grabs."
I'm not that bold, but The Neistat Brothers' Casey Neistat has convinced me that, sometimes, it's ok to steal a bike.
**Heads up - this video features the f-word once-ish and the s-word once-ish. If that offends you or someone who is within earshot, don't watch it.
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