Up at 4:50 to make breakfast after sleeping warily – hour by hour – but very pleasantly, and jump on the bike in the pitch dark to get to Kingston and catch the 6:15 express bus to Manhattan, in time for the now customary 3-meeting Wednesday. (Today it was Linda, Jimmy, & John, in turn.) The 6:15 is a blissful bus ride – half-full bus straight into the Thruway & no stops. How many rides left on the bike before it sells? Ezra Pound – not well-known for his wheelies, but – once said that ceasing to love or be lovable was the real death, and that the other was ‘little, beside it.’ In the biker’s bible it says something similar: selling your bike, with no replacement in view… this is the real death. But I’ve had so much joy on 2 wheels I find it hard to grieve. Gratefulness comes first.
Splenda in the grass
Moby!!
Where Did You Get That Bitch?
Arriving at Columbus Circle for breakfast at Bouchon with Linda, the irrepressible Moby, newspaper-seller supreme, greets me and I grab a quick snap of his infectious grin. Great start to the day. Good work follows – inspired contributions from Jimmy, a good review for John’s new novel, and, to our delight, proof copies of our grammar primer.
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