Monday, September 28, 2009

Confunction Junction

So, definitely almost got smeared by the police on my daily commute home a few days ago.

I was on Patterson crossing Southern - bad enough for cars, but I'd never had a problem on my bike. The cop waiting on the east side just didn't see me and lurched forward so that I had to jerk to the right immediately or T-Bone the guy.

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I would say my reaction - an indistinctly hollered "watchthefuckout!" - was pretty appropriate. Guy just zoomed off. Huzzah. Just another day. Coulda been worse, at least I didn't freak the fuck out and throw my bike like this girl:

Ouch. Via Urban Velo.

Thursday, September 24, 2009


Memphis is gritty.

It's the dirt underneath your fingernails; it's the little bit of gravel embedded in a skinned knee. It's the evidence of your labor, and it's not necessarily pretty, or even impressive. Nothing's gonna come easy, but ultimately, that makes it more rewarding.

There are pockets of resistance scattered all over the city, but you hafta find 'em yourself. However, once you find people, you know they're gonna be genuine, just 'cus it takes so much effort to cultivate anything worth doing.

Memphis doesn't nurture you as much as it challenges you. That's why you can always hear people complain that there's nothing to do in Memphis, but that's only because she treats you like an adult. You have to make your own fun. Memphis forces creativity or complete stagnation.

There's a giant chip on her shoulder, but if you just try, you'll find out that if you're down with Memphis, she's down with you. You just hafta speak her language. You gotta be gritty.