Commute by Bike

Packed and ready to roll home.

Commuting means striving for efficiency. As soon as I get home, I make sure things are set up for the next morning’s ride into the office. Bike packed in the car... Clothes and lunch for the next day packed, etc. This still takes practice, and the more I ride, the more I discover ways to improve the production.

One car needs to go into the shop for minor repairs today. Since the dealership is on the commute route, the auto is dropped off and I bike the rest of the way to the office. The car is fetched on the commute home, and then I drive a few miles and everything is done.

As the commute is only about 8 miles today, I thought I’d take the Raleigh Marathon out for a spin. It’s a big machine—and I’m still trying to figure out what she’s got.

While I un-pack and then re-pack, Callie is having me throw the ball for her--until she's exhausted!

***

Once I took the dealership’s shuttle service instead of riding my bike to work after dropping off my car—what a calamity. The drivers were unorganized illiterates, and most of the passengers were self-centered, stuck-up pseudo-management types, barking out useless information to subordinates via cell phones.

Pretending to be on my cell phone, I would get everyone’s attention by saying something like this,

“If you pull apart the two hemispheres, and you see the brain stem—you know you cut too far. Kind of push them back together but not too hard. If the patient’s arms start to flap, ease up. Are they flapping? Dr. Smith? Are they flapping? Blood? Where? In the rectum? Shit—okay do this, do that thing I told you I saw Dr. Payne do—I mean Dr. Stark do—shit I can’t remember. They did flap? Okay. They did? They stopped? Good. Hey Buck listen, I’m in, like a shuttle and on the way to surgery—yeah… Dr. Wool is a good brain man. Yeah, call him up. Later Dude—let me know how it turns out.”