Today’s ride took me down the McKeldin Square to drop off a staple gun to the folks at the media table at Occupy Baltimore before a couple of hours waving signs on the corner with B. and B. The square was fairly empty this afternoon, which surprised me, given the sunshine and Saturday-ness of it all, but maybe folks were still out on the walking tour of Inner Harbor bad guys. I dropped off my stuff on an empty table and wandered about until a guy named John Paul (like the pope!) started up a conversation with me about my bike. I agreed with him that my bike is hot, and he told me stories about rides he’s made across the country and across Florida. He keeps meaning to settle down, get a “real” job, but he keeps ending up riding his bike instead. The guy next to him was making soup for the crowd, and he shared stories of biking around rural Maryland, where he’s from. He’s not feeling the city–you can’t see the stars. The town he’s from? The first federal post office in the country. You learn so much by listening just a little, tiny bit, and the folks at the square are definitely up to share a story or two. After my sign-waving stint I headed up to the Maryland Historical Society, because there’s something about work in the present for the future that makes me want a little past. I made it up to the second floor this time, narrowly avoiding another awkward encounter with the incredibly talented John Wilkes Booth reenactor, and sat to read through this catalog describing the miniature portraits of Marylanders. So much space given to these stories, because these are the things that were saved by the people who did this particular kind of saving, but as I sat there I wondered why I must sit and read those particular stories. The space, it makes you do it! I got up, zipped through a bit more of the exhibit, and then got back on my bike to head home for dinner and a movie and some rest. It’s exhausting out here sometimes.