It was sunny, dry, and over freezing, and I had a whole lot of errands to run, so I got to pull out the Surly and go for some rides today. It took less than a block on the bike to feel at home; I love Brompty, and she’s made life without a car so much easier, but oh, Surly, that’s my home bike. The first leg took me just a bit up the hill to Waverly to meet with O. and R. to talk about art and history and girls and cats. And then it was a zippy ride down the hill to meet with D. to drink coffee and talk about material culture and museums and representation and race. And then it was a slow pedal back up the hill for lunch with J. and to talk about the War of 1812 and the difference between “slave” and “servant” and what happens when you use them interchangeably. Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good life with pretty good people in it, and then it just got better. I got to ride down the hill and around the Gwynns Falls Trail to take myself on a tour of the construction of the new casino. So much noise, all the sturm und drang of building another palace to chance that’s not really chance, and looking the other way: this–blue sky with layer cake clouds, clear water reflecting the snakes of freeways dug into it, and what’s left of this wetlands. Birds were chattering and clumping and basically saying, you can fuck with this planet, pave over the whole thing, drop all your trash in the water til it makes its own berms, but we’ll find a way to squawk about, and you’ll find a way to make it beautiful. And I did, and it was, and I zig zagged back home, wishing we could put our trash in trash bags and build something other than casinos and freeways with all our wealth.