words about things

What follows is my subtle attempt at honesty.

Christmas Day

I took a nasty spill on my bicycle the other day. That seems like a good place to start. It was totally my fault and it leads to several discussions.

#1 I live in rural east Texas and I love to ride my bicycle on the back roads.

#2 The bane of my cycling experience is dogs.

#3 Wear a f%@king helmet!

Let' see how I do with this:

#1 explained: Living in the rural south can be an enjoyable experience but it also has its drawbacks. I don’t know where you live but the southern US (and particularly Texas) has certain global stereotypes. Granted these people are primarily post-reformation Christian influenced, Germanic European genotype, pro-gun, FOX news watching, football worshiping, red-necks but they are also proud of their ignorance, accepting of some subtle truth behind most bigotry and basically, pretty nice folks when you are bleeding from more than one side of your skull.. I don’t fit in very well with most of that but I do enjoy riding my bicycle early in the morning whenever I can. As a middle aged white guy I am left alone for the most part. It’s nice to know that when I need help I can ask and receive (this doesn’t seem like a very good narrative but it is honest and that’s what I aim to be).

#2 Dogs are very social creatures. They live among us because they are like us despite the difference in amount of hair and succinct ability to v

ocalize our emotions. That being said, they are very territorial and I happened upon a pair who were outside their comfort zones. They were sniffing around a trash can as I zoomed by on my bicycle. The first dog, froze in place, the second dog ran for his dear life as if the hounds of Hell were on his tail (both puns intended). I, the hyper-intelligent sentient being in the story, was picking up speed on the down-hill approach and rather than hit the brakes (which would justify calling myself hyper-intelligent) to give the scared dog room, I caught him and began to pass him. Upon seeing this he did what any mammal would do. You may not be aware, but if you are running away and see a predator catching you, the evolutionarily correct choice is to change directions. In this case he jumped right in front of my bicycle. Now, assuming you’ve never fallen down because maybe you are a super intelligent 2 year old reading this blog, you don’t reach for the ground. It’s coming to get you. This is lesson #1. I tucked for a roll. I hit forehead and knuckles. I bounced to my back (including the back of my head). I slid on my right side across the asphalt (shin to ass) until I hit the rough rocks of the ditch at which time I flipped onto my stomach. I landed with a severe case of tunnel vision that made my outstretched arms seem to be out of the sockets. I could not move but I could scream. I took several seconds until I could move my arms at which time my vision corrected, I stood up and began to walk away. I was amazed that nothing was torn off, broken or missing 9except a chunk out of my nose which I discovered once I showered off at home. The dog was nowhere to be seen but everyone asks “what happened to the dog?” Thanks for caring.

#3 Once upon a time I had an accident late at night. I called the first person in the world I thought of to help me in such a situation, my father, to come and help me. He never showed up and I walked the several miles home in very bad shape only to find he had hit a deer on his motorcycle coming to help me and died. His story and mine now coincide. Wear a f&^king helmet. I walked away from my accident on my bicycle.  The DPS trooper who went to my sister’s house the next morning had to show her my father’s mug shot for identification. He was smiling. He was like that. I am not.

To lighten the mood I'd like to end with a joke: I hit a dog on my bike but the CAT scan was negative.