Thursday, Thursday
On the way to school today, Mimi announced from the year seat of the tandem that her favorite day of the week was Thursday.
I assumed she meant, as do I, that this was because Friday had almost arrived and the sweetness of anticipation combined with the longing for the next thing were perfectly merged, but what she explained was it was simply that Thursday was the school day without Math class.
But maybe that’s what we’re paying the big bucks for because certainly, this perspective on Thursday night, where it gets to be the first chance opportunity to try out new things, is one I want to pass on down.
The four-day workweek could save us.
That’s just one thing that occurred to me as I pedaled home from Bothell on the Quickbeam, perfectly comfortable on a singlespeed to get me home mostly because I know that, this being Thursday, that somewhere out there on city streets are at least more than one person on a bicycle who has almost half a notion to ride that bicycle somewhere that will combine an interest in seeing what happens after drinking booze with an interest in seeing what happens when people ride bikes and that, to me, is sustaining, at least a little bit.
I would venture to say that most people, when presented with a choice, just so long as unexamined taboos didn’t decide for them, would agree we, as a people, are allowed to be amazed by what we take to be art.
(And this is where “art” gets to mean all those examples that we recognize but which we can’t provide necessary and sufficient conditions for.)
But all I really mean—as this entry is meant to illustrate—is that there can be solo adventures that wouldn’t feel nearly so much like an adventure were not real adventures which shared two wheels in common taking place more or less concurrently and with a similar spirit.
I assumed she meant, as do I, that this was because Friday had almost arrived and the sweetness of anticipation combined with the longing for the next thing were perfectly merged, but what she explained was it was simply that Thursday was the school day without Math class.
But maybe that’s what we’re paying the big bucks for because certainly, this perspective on Thursday night, where it gets to be the first chance opportunity to try out new things, is one I want to pass on down.
The four-day workweek could save us.
That’s just one thing that occurred to me as I pedaled home from Bothell on the Quickbeam, perfectly comfortable on a singlespeed to get me home mostly because I know that, this being Thursday, that somewhere out there on city streets are at least more than one person on a bicycle who has almost half a notion to ride that bicycle somewhere that will combine an interest in seeing what happens after drinking booze with an interest in seeing what happens when people ride bikes and that, to me, is sustaining, at least a little bit.
I would venture to say that most people, when presented with a choice, just so long as unexamined taboos didn’t decide for them, would agree we, as a people, are allowed to be amazed by what we take to be art.
(And this is where “art” gets to mean all those examples that we recognize but which we can’t provide necessary and sufficient conditions for.)
But all I really mean—as this entry is meant to illustrate—is that there can be solo adventures that wouldn’t feel nearly so much like an adventure were not real adventures which shared two wheels in common taking place more or less concurrently and with a similar spirit.
posted by Professor Dave at 7:25 AM
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