My father can be a real ass, a claim he would most certainly agree with. With which he would most certainly agree. Anyway. But he is also–and I can’t believe I’m writing this down on the interwebz where it will live forever–a wise man, at times. Among the many wisdom moments he has shared with me over the years is this: “If you don’t have a tattoo, don’t get one. If you’ve got one, get another one.” Continue reading
Mike the Bike Guy
New Orleans Bike and Board Shop on Oak Street
I spent the afternoon riding my bike around, posting posters and flyers about the upcoming Bicycle Film Festival. I rode over to the Gambit offices to drop off a screener for review and then back up Carrollton to Oak Street to drop flyers at all the lovely shops over there. Continue reading
Lights at the World War II Museum in the Warehouse District
Rhoda’s rear cog was a little loose and I don’t have the proper flat wrench for repair, so I took her to the bike shoppe for a little TLC this afternoon. Ten bucks later and the girl was riding like a dream, so I was happy to pedal her down to the Marigny tonight for a drink with a former student and then over to S.’s place for roasted beets, prosecco, and some TV with S. and R. Continue reading
Phillies vs. Yankees at Burgundy and Conti
I got Rhoda some presents today. I stopped at the fabulously friendly and convenient Uptown shop, Mike the Bike Guy, and got her new handlebars (the right bar was finally rusting off after last year’s crash that bent it) and grips, a new front tire (that thing is so worn you can almost see the tube near the rim), and a new bottom bracket for my fender (ah, rust…). Continue reading