Police And Theives

Just as Junior Murrow exclaimed from the reggae vaults within Jamaica, later to be imported to the isle of Britain and be popularized by the world famous Clash, I encountered an instance of police interaction on my most current extended jaunt.

Before you the reader, thinks my arms are placed behind me while standing against a squad car.... well, think in opposites. My failing eyes witnessed seven police cars with their flashing lights greeting a lonely car. Multiple police officers with their fingers attached to their guns pointed in the direction of the car.

The previous few words stringed together are just a description of what I witnessed during my previous endurance journey adding up to 14 miles on my electronic pedometer. Truthfully speaking, I can not stretch the truth and invent a story in light of the USS Maine explosion in relation to yellow journalism and the start of the Spanish-American War. Simply said, I do not know.

A couple days later while navigating through the world wide web's music video connection, Youtube, I encountered the embed located below this rant. This ditty seems to be the best reminder of the latest journey that my legs carried me to.

Miles Davis, Freedom, Simplicity, and Nothing

Wow.... listening to Miles Davis' trumpet expresses a dangerously similar freedom as I felt today during today's run/bike jaunt. This freedom to let go was produced with my footsteps/bike peddling while Mr. Davis and his almost magical trumpet displays the freedom of his simple, yet drawn out style of trumpeting.

I praise Miles Davis.... in my book, your attitude, style of trumpeting, and almost everything about this epic legend screams the phrase King of Cool. Mr Davis; let me reach into your pocket as I want to steal ten percent of your coolness. Transforming your trumpeting style into my running style seems possible as I slip on my shoes that are destined to hit the pavement. I have nothing else to say as my ears attach it's hearing tubes to your horn. My feet are done moving for the night, but they meekly attemopt to capture Mile's movement, tapping its toes, listening to his musical masterpieces.

A Bike Named Elvis

While I might be a bit slow posting my most current news and stuff.... well, this latest rant rotates around an almost stolen prase from Johnny Cash. Instead of Cash's so epic gem, "A Boy Named Sue," this brain exercise is entitled "A Bike Named Elvis."

I had been toying with the idea of partaking in a grand purchasing scheme to acquire a long coveted mountain bike. I wanted to be able to accompany my children on long trail rides.... at least that is what I hoped. You know, make them pump and pump at the grueling pedals until they not only sweat bullets, but their feet give out.

Cut to the chase.... soon after torturing my kids on my previous trek on Missouri's Katy Trail, I decided my bike needed a name; but lets back up a bit. As my brain was being consumed by evil thoughts, the word Elvis suddenly was stuck upon my neurons....presto : ELVIS!

Anyway, if you happen to gaze upon a father hoisted atop a mountain bike with the most god awful paint job that some would categorize as despicable art,then you might be in for either a treat or disaster. Here is this piece of precious equipment for my legs to rotate on so I can make myself stronger as in Zuess like proportions, while the Greek godess Nike hands to me a few points for reaching myself into the land of cross-training!

A Tribute

With tax day 2011, April 15th, representing the tenth anniversary of Joey Ramone's death, I simply want to segway into a great song by this legendary artist, who was a functioning unit in my all time favorite band, THE RAMONES! Let the music silence my words....

I Have Nothing Witty To Say

All apoligies will be accepted if you dear reader understand the froth being emited from my mouthpiece. The electronic etchings transmitted from my brain to your visual state of being applies to my current, yet part of my sporatic interests.... running and music. I will delve into other areas, such as how much I like biking food and nutrition, maybe even politics, film, or whatever is captured inside my neurons!

Running, cycling, writing and music is a spiritual uplifting to me. You see, all these functions help me almost forget what is going on in my everyday life.... NO, No, No; I am not being irresponsible. Sometimes you have to kiss good-bye the routines of life, the troubles, or whatever troubles penetrate your over busy brain.

Running is a great way to leave myself to forget everything around me and yet at the same time, focus on every breath, every stride, and every observation good enough to break my usual concentration. No, I do not plug myself in via I-pod or any other inescapable electronic devices on these trecks. Reason? It is the pace of my life, the pace of my feet carrying me mile after mile, while the oversized gps afixed to my wrist guides me by didgits. Getting home is stretching time while turning on what ever sort of musical vibrations happens to capture my spirit. Later on, my acoustic guitar might violate my kid's airspace, telling me in a pleaful manner to leave their eardrums alone.

Running and music is what I am. Being witty is not on this page today.