Because after all, today is just yesterday’s tomorrow.
Before we get into anything, I can’t remember if I’d recently mentioned that I have both the new run of AHTBM decks;
as well as ever-fetching It’s The Water™©® shirts;
I have to get these guys moving, because I’m a marginally successful business-ie type of person, and in the ‘Dummy’s Guide To Being A Marginally Successful Business-ie Type Of Person’, that’s basically like, the first chapter.
So, if you’d like to snag a stick, or don a shirt that’s so soft it’s like wearing a kitten, I’ll fill those orders so fast it’ll make your head spin.
Well, not only that, but I have a long standing (albeit sputtering as of late) feature there called ‘Answers From A Bottle‘.
Essentially it’s an advice column where people with all manners of queries can reach out to me and see what I think about stuff and/or junk.
So, since Mike Cushionbury (one of the founders of said site) bailed out and headed to Mountain Flyer Magazine, no one has been checking the inbox for questions.
At some point I was given the password for my C.I. email address, but I’d long since lost it.
Anyway, because it had been a little while since I’d written the piece, Robot emailed me and told me to check the inbox myself. While there weren’t any new questions in there, The were a few old ones, which I took to answering with quickness, and if I do say so, I think this one might have been one of my favorites to date.
If you’d like to give it a once over, all you have to do is go here;
As always, if you have a question you’d like a bit of insight about, and you think I could at least partially do that, well then shoot it on over to stevil(at)cyclingindependent(dot)com, and I will give it a once over at some point between now and 2023.
Having addressed that bit of news, I would like to push this video that I just found (while over at Mountain Flyer, actually) which made me feel all of the feelings at once;
As one who is currently riding in snow on the regular for the first time in years, I’m positive gobsmacked by these kids. My hat is forever tipped to the folks who still pick up and drop off in general, but especially those who do it in weather not fit for human nor beast.
Moving on from that, to the fact that it’s been one year since a bunch of nine ball conspiracy theories tried to overthrow the government, and one would-be patriot named Kevin Greeson tazed himself in the balls, had a heart attack, and died;
A true American hero.
Real quick- do any of y’all remember back on December 21st and I was talking about cold weather gear, and describing how anxious I was to get my new winter Shimano kicks? Well, at long last, after waiting for days, and days, and days, and days, they finally landed, and with my inaugural ride under my belt, I can say with certain that they totally rule;
And what’s more, they look like they have spats;
23 skidoo, you know what I’m saying?
I feel like each of my feet are having individual spa days. They are warm, and dry, and I can just fire them on and go, without dealing with the hassle of getting my normal shoe into tow covers or booties, or whatever, which to me ranks up there around 1000% more of a pain in the ass than putting a comforter inside of a duvet. I know folks who ride in inclement weather are well past up to speed on this topic, but if by chance there are stragglers out there like myself, I feel as if I’ve found one of the secrets of the universe.
Now to close out today’s post, consisting almost entirely black and white photos, I’d like to cross-polinate with a thing I had over on the Instagrams. Forgive me if you saw it there, but I feel as though it’s an important message to push.
It goes as follows;
“Three years ago I took a long road trip which eventually found me in Denver. While there, I heard rumor that the collection of a legendary local character named Tom Headbanger, a long time promoter of all things independent and underground, was available for viewing at the public library. Flyers, calendars, zines, and a host of other artifacts from the Front Range’s early days of punk were apparently accessible for me to pour over at my leisure. A day or two later I wrote a post on my site, and included photos of an array of the treasures that I saw that day.
Though I never knew the person in question, his influence on the scene was profound. Imagine my surprise when a comment appeared on my site just a couple of days ago from the man himself. Among other things, he said “it makes me happy and proud that people like you get to see it, and hope it inspires you to promote the things you love, to make things, and connect with people.” It was like a bomb went off inside of my brain.
For decades, all I’ve wanted to do is to have shows, and make zines, and art, and write postcards, and to be some sort of conduit, and through that drive, I found other people who wanted the same. And then I began thinking about this zine I made in 2017, and how we can unwittingly influence each other, and ultimately, how it ended up in the collection at The Smithsonian, (which is another story entirely), and how without all of these random little seeds being planted, none of this beauty would grow, and finally, how indescribably fortunate I am to get to see any of it in my lifetime.
So as all of this was swirling in my head, since I hadn’t previously, I figured I’d scan the master, and post it here for whoever might be interested, and also as a reminder that none of us can possibly begin to understand the impact we might have on others just simply by being good people, and committing to doing something that we love.”
After making this little magazine, I think I had the story eventually published in Dirt Rag as well, but until now, I hadn’t scanned the original for anyone else who might be interested. It sure seems as though the world could use more vibrations of a positive kind these days.
Maybe this will be that for someone;
Getting the opportunity for me to express the impact that someone like Garry or Tom has had on my life these last five decades, and in turn, hopefully by extension, I’ve had on the life of others’ lives is the most amazing experience I can imagine, and truly , the best sort of real-live time machine I could imagine.