I got to get up at 6:30 this morning and ride my bike to work–yes, all of this is happening on a Saturday–to give a final exam. We all sat there dutifully, them scribbling along, me looking busy, for four hours. Sigh. I was tired, but the day was lovely, so I rode over to Mid-City to see R.’s new apartment and then just pedaled around until I found D. on a porch. It’s Jazz Fest time, so everybody is on the porch and watching the crowds roll by. I snapped this picture from a most beautiful porch while D. and M. moved cars around like Tetris pieces. Yeah, I’m glad I took my bike, as were those folks walking the wrong way down Esplanade who could ask me, because I wasn’t locked up in a car, “Where is Jazz Fest?” A couple beers and several conversations later and I was pedaling along empty streets on my way home, smooth and mindless circles. I picked up Bicycling Magazine from home and grabbed a salad on the corner. Colin McEnroe writes, “Look what I’ve accomplished, and I have 14 whole gears I haven’t even touched yet.” Oh my, exactly.