Bike-O-Din

"There comes a time when you heed a certain call..." - Michael Jackson

That was just kinda stuck in my head. Now, you may not know this, but Metallica once was awesome. They had a little song called Breadfan that they covered and it is rip-fuckin'-shit to ride bikes to. I just rode my bike to lunch and ate horrible Chinese food and did a crossword puzzle while listening to a jazz workshop combo play jazz standards. Pro tip: drowning your guitar in chorus makes you sound like Stanley Jordan. Not good. I rode my bike back to my office and it was downhill with a breeze at my back while Breadfan was just fucking jamming. It was fantasgreat.

Speaking of heavenly, some asshole put post-it notes on the coffee pots this morning and the house said "Heavenly House" and the Sumatra said "Super Sumatra." Now, I'm a fan of Asshole's Alliterations as much as the next guy, but those are lame. So, they have now been changed to "Heavenly HouseWife" and "Kama Sumatra." Wanted to go for Heavenly Horny Housewife, but I believe that's already copyrighted by Vivid entertainment or Backdoor Productions. Google it. Dare ya. Then, afterwards, Google "Tentacle School." Don't really do that.

Anyway, I got my bike back last night after it had been stolen two weeks ago. So, what has two thumbs and two bikes now? This guy. It's kind of cool, too. One bike is much faster and up tight and the other is just fuckin' chill. Also, when guests come over, we can ride bikes to FroYo now. Everything everything everything happens for a reason. There is a plan that you have very little control over so roll with the punches and get to what's real whenever you can. Bend with the wind rather than fight it. You'll be fine. You have to be.

So, right after my little sister was born or maybe she was two years old, I got a bike that I learned how to ride on at the age of five. It was yellow with black stripes. It was dope. I left it on the front lawn one day and some asshole stole it.

Cut to what was probably nine or ten years later and I'm rocking a GT Performer. It was dope. Pegs in the front and the back so I could bust better tricks than the assholes in Quicksilver. That movie has the single worst freestyle scene ever in it. So, when I'm inside Mountain Mike's playing me some Metroid some asshole steals my bike.

Seven years later? Two of my guitars get stolen from the back of my car after a gig at the Paradise Lounge. Some asshole punched my back window out and took both of them. It was the guitar that I learned all my scales outside of the major, minor and various pentatonics on. Dude, I learned the mixobluesian scale and the gypsy scale on that guitar. I hearted it deeply. So, if you ever see a blue Ibanez RG770 with a sharktooth inlay, reflectors and fish eye mirror stuck to it, grab it. I'll do almost anything for it.

Two years later? Two more guitars stolen. This forced me to go buy a low end guitar that no one would steal anymore becuase it just started to feel so violating. It's like marrying a fat girl so you don't get crushed when she cheats on you. Aim low motherfucker.

Okay, so a little jaded by theft. It's no fun. So, here's what I've been able to figure out about the most recent theft.

There are two things that could have happened. The alleged story from the dude who I got it from last night was that he was leaving the bar and saw two shady fuckers messing with a bike behind the dumpster. Yes, I lied if I told you it was stolen from my apartment because I was embarrassed that it was stolen from in front of a bar on a Thursday night. I'm very sorry. So, guy says that he grabbed the bike from them and threw it in the cab he was taking and left a note at the bar saying that dudes were trying to steal a yellow Schwinn and if anyone comes looking for it, to call him.

I checked the rack yesterday and saw what they did. I did lock it. It was locked. And, I checked it before I left that night. They undid the bolt that connects the part that you lock up to from the base of the rack and slid it right off. I've since heard like a hundred people say "Yeah, dude. Don't lock up to that rack. Your bike'll get stolen." The shady fuckers then took the bike and removed the bike licenses from the bike before dude grabbed it from them.

Ooooooooooooooooooooor, dude cut the lock took the bike and then found out that he took mine and realized that he knew me and it was fucked to take my bike. There is honor among thieves and scumbags. You must operate within the scumbag code.

I was riding my bike home and I go past my local bar and one of the bartenders was out front and gave me a wave so I stopped to talk to her and she goes "Where's your bike?"

I replied that it was stolen and I had to buy this little Schwinn varsity that I was crusing on.

She goes, "Didn't you have a...oh, fuck. It was your bike. I have a note for you."

She ran inside the bar and came out with a note that had the dude's number on it to call to get my bike back. I gave her a giant hug and tried not to tear up. I called the dude and arranged an exchange and had it in my living room by 10:00 PM last night. I just kind of sat on my couch and stared at it like I was missing a lobe. It was like getting a new bike. It was awesome.

I rode it into work this morning and it would have taken a size 14 boot to the face to wipe the smile off of it. I'm ashamed of myself for becoming so attached to anything so much as I firmly believe that the more you own, the more owns you. Actually, I just believe in that to justify that I don't ever see myself owning a house unless I move very far from where I am or bring AdCheesive (Adhesive Cheese) to market. All I've got for AdCheesive at this point is a Kraft American Single with paste on the back of it, but that does not really fit my ideal concept. I am, however, convinced that you could caulk a bath tub with spray cheese.

Anyway, my faith is restored in humanity and I finally didn't feel like Charlie Brown for a day. I felt more like Zachary "Zack" Morris. Accel at being good and good things happen. Go team pleasant and nice to people!