Living in a city, you'd think every moment would be an immersion in the melting pot; an unavoidable full-frontal with Humanity in all its forms. But the truth is, you can avoid the pot, most of the time.
There are different bars for different sorts: the metro bars, the dive bars, the frat bars, the wine bars. There are different neighborhoods: the gay district, the hipster ‘hood, the yuppie precinct. You can select a home in your zone of choice, frequent the most categorically predictable restaurants and bars on that same block, and for nearly all of your day, avoid those parts of humanity that make you feel uneasy or self-conscious or, simply, not quite cool enough. (For me, tattoos inspire all aforementioned emotions. They make me excited and envious and threatened, all at once.) You can stay within your tidy little box of human experience, no problem. Most of the time.
The Razor scooter, a child's best friend for many years! They go
zipping up and down sidewalks, streets, and parking lots looking for
places just steep enough for a sweet jump or a fast and smooth ride.
Days are spent cruising around the neighborhood picking up friends
along the way who are desperate to try that one last trick that they
were unable to land the night before. Dinner is ready and all the moms
and dads are calling for the return of their kids before the street
lights come on. There will always be tomorrow.
As a child I spent most of my youth jumping bikes off of ramps made of
plywood and bricks, riding my skateboard off of curbs, steps, and
sometimes just straight into the creek. A Razor scooter was not
something we had growing up in the 1970's, at least not in my
neighborhood. We had Big Wheels, dirt bikes, and skateboards.
So one month ago, I launched myself into a new city. A new time zone. New coast.
New cardiovascular challenges. San Francisco's city planners disregarded all topographical factors when they plopped this city down on more than 50 hills, and my roommates apparently disregarded my atrophied lungs and calf muscles when they selected what would become my abode upon moving here - on the sheer face of one such incline.
These aren't the only adjustments. I have entered a sustainable utopia, where compost bins are cheerfully dealt out, gratis, to each residence, where recycling doesn't just refer to my best friend's annual closet clean-out (thanks, Janette!), and where I'm pretty sure the grocery clerk at Safeway gave me the stink-eye last week for buying inorganic fruit. (I believe in the environment! But I am on a budget!)
Quirkee.com is proud to announce the Ludo CD Giveaway, brought to you
by the fine folks at Mondo 360 and yours truly, Quirkee.com. We will be giving
away five copies of their new CD, "You're Awful, I Love You" to our
readers. Wanna see what this band is about? Cool, watch the video for "Love
Me Dead":
As for the FREE CDs, here's what you have to do. Register
with Quirkee.com. That's it. If you're already a registered user, then
you're set too. We'll pick five (5) lucky winners to receive the following:
Sometimes I think that one of the greatest things a movie
can do is make you feel like a kid again.A documentary that can do so scores doubly impressive in my book.
The last one that did that to me was probably Jeffrey
Biltz's Spellbound in 2002.The documentary
tracking eight schoolkids and their paths to the Scripps Howard National
Spelling Bee conveyed all of the kids' collective anxiety and hope as they
worked their way through the competition.Mentally, I tried to spell every word with every child and my heart
broke every time someone missed a word.
Living in a city, you'd think every moment would be an immersion in the melting pot; an unavoidable full-frontal with Humanity in all its forms. But the truth is, you can avoid the pot, most of the time.
The Razor scooter, a child's best friend for many years! They go
zipping up and down sidewalks, streets, and parking lots looking for
places just steep enough for a sweet jump or a fast and smooth ride.
Days are spent cruising around the neighborhood picking up friends
along the way who are desperate to try that one last trick that they
were unable to land the night before. Dinner is ready and all the moms
and dads are calling for the return of their kids before the street
lights come on. There will always be tomorrow.
Sometimes I think that one of the greatest things a movie
can do is make you feel like a kid again.
