We’ve had some pretty stunning sunrises around here the past couple days, and if there were a photographer in the house s/he might have made something of them. Alas, you have to settle for some old fool and his iPhone.
Traffic was light on the bosque trail today.
A fella can only take so much news: payoffs to North Korea, measles making a comeback, and the relentless, all-hacks-on-deck pimping of Marvel’s “Avengers” finale.
AIn’t none of that shit goin’ on down to the bosque. So that’s where I went.
It was a beautiful day for averting one’s eyes from the ongoing collapse of civilization, with temps in the 60s and 70s, blue skies, and only the slightest wind.
Aboard the Rivendell Sam Hillborne I plunged down the usual route — Tramway, Roy, 4th, Guadalupe Trail and Alameda — to the bosque. But instead of hanging a left on the Paseo del Norte bike path and starting the 1,000-foot climb back to El Rancho Pendejo, as I had planned, I kept rolling.
Just past I-40 I picked up Mountain through Old Town, then headed for home via the North Diversion Channel Trail, Bear Arroyo-Osuna, Manitoba, and like that there.
It made for a pleasant, low-traffic 40-miler. And I had enough left in the tank to air the cats and mow the lawn when I got home.
Herself said, “The sunrise is pretty damn’ awesome this morning,” and she did not lie.
The prez popped in for a chat today, and a sizable crowd of Bibleburgers seemed happy to see him despite the astonishing disrespect shown for the Second Amendment by his security team. Why, the only people packing heat were the heat. Imagine my astonishment. Where’s Ron Paul when you need him?
The speech itself was basic campaign boilerplate, but it went over pretty well, especially considering we’d spent about four hours broiling under an August sun while waiting to catch Obama’s act. A small army of volunteers was passing out water to the masses, though my requests for three fingers of Chamucos with a beer back went unanswered.
It was quite a crowd infesting Cutler Quad at Colorado College. Blacks, Asians, honkies and Hispanics; old, young and in between; gay, straight and in between; haves and “waiting to haves.” While waiting for the prez to crank it up we chatted with a black Vietnam vet and his German secretary, a Buddhist who sits thrice weekly with three different sanghas, and (of all things) one of Herself’s friends from elementary school back in Maryland.
If there were any pro-Romney hecklers in the bunch I didn’t hear them. It was a fine departure from the horrid discourse one reads in the public prints. Strangers were passing water to each other, sharing the few bits of shade and taking care that everyone had a chance to see the famous tyrannical Kenyan crypto-Muslim socialist usurper in the flesh so they could scope out the horns and that big 666 on his forehead.
Frankly, there’s something reassuring about seeing that many fellow travelers packed into one place like red herrings in a tin. I caught more than one person giving another that appraising glance that says, “Oho, so you’re one too, eh?” Makes it easier to keep plugging along, knowing you’re not the only round peg in a town full of square holes.
Since it seems more or less like the VeloNews.com setup, I thought I’d test-drive the free-version WordPress gallery tool with a few more shots from our Big Island getaway. Click a thumbnail and you get a larger photo with caption, plus the ability to navigate fore and aft throughout the gallery.
So in case you feel the need for a getaway from whatever’s crawling up your butt — airstrikes in Libya, dope fiends on bicycles or eejits in DeeCee — pull on your grass skirt, add a coconut brassiere and prepare to get lei’d.
Patrick O'Grady has been making stuff up since, well, forever. He started doing it for money in high school and didn't quit until he retired in 2022. (To be honest, if you waved enough Dead President Trading Cards at him, he might do it for money again.) Until then, this blog is his pro-bonehead work. For more on Your Humble Narrator, click the comic.
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