12.31.2009
12.27.2009
paris binight
so after midnight the train won't take you back to charles de gaulle. this was one of those imperative details i didn't really want to acknowledge, and it was already 22:00. i received this information from the concierge at a hotel which is very near to the airport. though i trusted her, i wanted to believe otherwise, telling myself i would assume that reality if and likely when i encountered said predicament. this night, i opted to pass on dinner at the hotel's restaurant, growing restless and quite hungry.
it had been two quick days with my family in paris, and we were departing for zurich the following afternoon. i was unsettled with the typical touristic exposure thus far. how can you make a fair assessment of a city like paris with so little time? would going out change this? in my mind, it would, and now in hindsight, it did.
with four destinations all in arrondissement oberkampf, some basic wayfinding, and the paris metro map, i set out in search of a piece of the paris nightlife with a vocabulary consisting of "s'il vous plait" and "merci." after navigating the public transport to republique, i headed down le rue parmentier with tape club and cafe rosso atop my list. the plan for nourishment was a hot dog a-la-new-yorkaise. i hoped to meet someone who might be able to comprehend spanglish and have a couple drinks. the actuality of my feeble communicative skills occurred to me when i asked how to find rue nueve popincourt. this conversation consisted of a question, some uncomfortable facial expressions, and attempting to retain a couple hand gestures. a few steps later, i realized nothing registered.
as stubborn as i can at times be, this was not one of those times; or it was for awhile. eventually, i acquiesced to the challenge of finding either locations (one of which i just noticed was in berlin), knowing that the city of paris is the furthest in planning from an urban grid. instead, i decided to approach this friday night in a completely improvisational manner, head first, tongue last. any crowded establishment fit the bill; i could enjoy a glass of wine and observe the evening playing itself out as a mute minute man. if it manifested into something better, fantastic. if not, surely another viable detour would surface. would i run into an english speaking couple and get advice? would a miraculous series of hand and eye coordinations convey something useful? would i run into audrey tautao and tour the sets of amelie? anything was possible except getting on a train and calling the effort a lost cause.
luckily my camera was along for the journey. though it was bittery cold out, the fact that it was december 25th meant there before me laid a rather still paris. i decided it was bottelon time. i purchased the ingredients from a late night grocery to stir up a meester coke. you can easily guess one of the ingredients; the other being the white rum on hand. here it was the classy rhum blanc. the dettachment from any sort of social faction this fine evening finally dawned its ultimate fate upon me. my lack of direction and fluency (to say the least) translated into a live cocktail and a million photo opportunities, not so bad i thought to myself. certainly there was perpertual concern for how i would fare in a couple hours, but the notion of wandering the rues all night long was too romantic to ignore. i imagined there was two or three others in paris doing the exact same thing.
two'o'clock came, then three'o'clock. it was then my stomach made itself heard. toucan sam style, i followed my nose to a crepe stand, and ordered the first one i saw on the menu, jambon fromage. i made sweet, sweet, virgin love to an ever so tasty crepe, continuing to scour the rues with a childlike wonder. the crepe and ensuing sips of meester coke quenched any remaining doubt of this aimless sojourn into the night.
the receding temperature was the only pickle. this however, became irrelevant then when i turned a corner and spotted the hotel du louvre in the distance. sidetracked by some less cliche photography and a few more failed attemps to converse, i made my way to the hotel. then to the tuilerie gardens and the louvre. to my pleasant surprise the through rues were still accessible. i snapped picture after picture, and traced the entire champs elysees with unsurmounted enthusiasm. as i approached the arc de triomphe, the promenade was filled with christmas decor and the swarm of inebbriated nightcrawlers.
with two hours yet til trains resumed service, the thought of a big warm hotel bed crept into my stream of thoughts. i wouldn't say i was second guessing the foreseeable all-nighter, but i got to that point where i hit a wall. as i continued towards la defense, i started thinking what other night shots i needed to capture before my waning camera battery bit it. i'd already seen the eiffel tower and notre dame. the premise of seeking out a metro with service to the airport and trying to maintain consciousness was nauseating in and of itself.
it was just after this moment that i saw the light. there in a series of parked scooters and bicycles was one that was unlocked. it was one of the 3 speed velib rent-a-bikes, like bicing of barcelona. i was in awe, but thought better of jacking someone's commuter. right across the street was another one on its side. i kept walking. my mood escalated rapidly, the temptation to seize one and take it for a joy ride playing out in my mind like a game of ethical pinball. i made a decision to walk in a loop to inadvertently kill fifteen minutes. i rationalized if the bike was still there, it was mine.
when i returned, the bike on its side was still there, looking sad and lonely. i took a closer look at the bicycle and noticed the seat post skewer head cracked off, and the tires were almost out of air. i felt a warsh of bicycle medicness all of a sudden, and it was as if the thought of not taking it never occurred to me. i surveyed the area, macgyvered a piece of plastic from my meester coke, and tightened the seat post bolt as much as possible, using the cap to apply pressure to the very tiny arm of the skewer that still remained. the seatpost was tight enough and no sooner was i off on a bicycle in paris.
at first i took it slow, wary or my general fatique and semi-sobriety. soon thereafter, i was ripping down cobblestone streets with an incredible surge of adrenaline. it could have been the cold, it may have been the rush associated with taking a velib, but i felt like i was in a dream - think tom cruise in nyc a la vanilla sky - bad reference, but its what i thought of immediately. the feeling on that bicycle was elation in its purest form, escalating even further when a group of parisians would erupt as i rode by with a ring of the bell. i don't know why i had not considered renting one of my own earlier, but the night found me on a bicycle, reassuring me of the beautiful nature of being so whimsical at times.
i will remember christmas '09 as my own tour de france. here is a shot of pei's pyramid binight.
it had been two quick days with my family in paris, and we were departing for zurich the following afternoon. i was unsettled with the typical touristic exposure thus far. how can you make a fair assessment of a city like paris with so little time? would going out change this? in my mind, it would, and now in hindsight, it did.
with four destinations all in arrondissement oberkampf, some basic wayfinding, and the paris metro map, i set out in search of a piece of the paris nightlife with a vocabulary consisting of "s'il vous plait" and "merci." after navigating the public transport to republique, i headed down le rue parmentier with tape club and cafe rosso atop my list. the plan for nourishment was a hot dog a-la-new-yorkaise. i hoped to meet someone who might be able to comprehend spanglish and have a couple drinks. the actuality of my feeble communicative skills occurred to me when i asked how to find rue nueve popincourt. this conversation consisted of a question, some uncomfortable facial expressions, and attempting to retain a couple hand gestures. a few steps later, i realized nothing registered.
as stubborn as i can at times be, this was not one of those times; or it was for awhile. eventually, i acquiesced to the challenge of finding either locations (one of which i just noticed was in berlin), knowing that the city of paris is the furthest in planning from an urban grid. instead, i decided to approach this friday night in a completely improvisational manner, head first, tongue last. any crowded establishment fit the bill; i could enjoy a glass of wine and observe the evening playing itself out as a mute minute man. if it manifested into something better, fantastic. if not, surely another viable detour would surface. would i run into an english speaking couple and get advice? would a miraculous series of hand and eye coordinations convey something useful? would i run into audrey tautao and tour the sets of amelie? anything was possible except getting on a train and calling the effort a lost cause.
luckily my camera was along for the journey. though it was bittery cold out, the fact that it was december 25th meant there before me laid a rather still paris. i decided it was bottelon time. i purchased the ingredients from a late night grocery to stir up a meester coke. you can easily guess one of the ingredients; the other being the white rum on hand. here it was the classy rhum blanc. the dettachment from any sort of social faction this fine evening finally dawned its ultimate fate upon me. my lack of direction and fluency (to say the least) translated into a live cocktail and a million photo opportunities, not so bad i thought to myself. certainly there was perpertual concern for how i would fare in a couple hours, but the notion of wandering the rues all night long was too romantic to ignore. i imagined there was two or three others in paris doing the exact same thing.
two'o'clock came, then three'o'clock. it was then my stomach made itself heard. toucan sam style, i followed my nose to a crepe stand, and ordered the first one i saw on the menu, jambon fromage. i made sweet, sweet, virgin love to an ever so tasty crepe, continuing to scour the rues with a childlike wonder. the crepe and ensuing sips of meester coke quenched any remaining doubt of this aimless sojourn into the night.
the receding temperature was the only pickle. this however, became irrelevant then when i turned a corner and spotted the hotel du louvre in the distance. sidetracked by some less cliche photography and a few more failed attemps to converse, i made my way to the hotel. then to the tuilerie gardens and the louvre. to my pleasant surprise the through rues were still accessible. i snapped picture after picture, and traced the entire champs elysees with unsurmounted enthusiasm. as i approached the arc de triomphe, the promenade was filled with christmas decor and the swarm of inebbriated nightcrawlers.
with two hours yet til trains resumed service, the thought of a big warm hotel bed crept into my stream of thoughts. i wouldn't say i was second guessing the foreseeable all-nighter, but i got to that point where i hit a wall. as i continued towards la defense, i started thinking what other night shots i needed to capture before my waning camera battery bit it. i'd already seen the eiffel tower and notre dame. the premise of seeking out a metro with service to the airport and trying to maintain consciousness was nauseating in and of itself.
it was just after this moment that i saw the light. there in a series of parked scooters and bicycles was one that was unlocked. it was one of the 3 speed velib rent-a-bikes, like bicing of barcelona. i was in awe, but thought better of jacking someone's commuter. right across the street was another one on its side. i kept walking. my mood escalated rapidly, the temptation to seize one and take it for a joy ride playing out in my mind like a game of ethical pinball. i made a decision to walk in a loop to inadvertently kill fifteen minutes. i rationalized if the bike was still there, it was mine.
when i returned, the bike on its side was still there, looking sad and lonely. i took a closer look at the bicycle and noticed the seat post skewer head cracked off, and the tires were almost out of air. i felt a warsh of bicycle medicness all of a sudden, and it was as if the thought of not taking it never occurred to me. i surveyed the area, macgyvered a piece of plastic from my meester coke, and tightened the seat post bolt as much as possible, using the cap to apply pressure to the very tiny arm of the skewer that still remained. the seatpost was tight enough and no sooner was i off on a bicycle in paris.
at first i took it slow, wary or my general fatique and semi-sobriety. soon thereafter, i was ripping down cobblestone streets with an incredible surge of adrenaline. it could have been the cold, it may have been the rush associated with taking a velib, but i felt like i was in a dream - think tom cruise in nyc a la vanilla sky - bad reference, but its what i thought of immediately. the feeling on that bicycle was elation in its purest form, escalating even further when a group of parisians would erupt as i rode by with a ring of the bell. i don't know why i had not considered renting one of my own earlier, but the night found me on a bicycle, reassuring me of the beautiful nature of being so whimsical at times.
i will remember christmas '09 as my own tour de france. here is a shot of pei's pyramid binight.
12.22.2009
xmas almost (t)here.
i am on the train back to milwaukee, greatly alleviated. today i spent the day in chicago, getting a last minute passport for a trip to france, switzerland, and spain. i find myself in these situations all the time. my previous book was only issued for a year. i asked why today. apparently if you've lost two back to back, they don’t give you the tenure. get it?
needless to say, i was freaking out when i realized i might miss out on our first family christmas vaction. i am so lucky my girlfriend thought to check the expiration date, because my general meticulousness is quite poor. thank goodness the city of big shoulders can put out a passport in a matter of hours. i am going to europe!!
while waiting for it to be printed out, i trekked through the streets of chicago, for once on foot. the city looks great. walking around gave me the chance to appreciate the insane amount of decor chicago has on its streets for the holidays. i decided to stage my own contest to see what high rise lobby has the best interior/cheer combo.
i believe the award goes to this one, and apparently this receptionist knew her lobby was a winner. free bikeith tee to the first person who guesses what building this is! messengers??
needless to say, i was freaking out when i realized i might miss out on our first family christmas vaction. i am so lucky my girlfriend thought to check the expiration date, because my general meticulousness is quite poor. thank goodness the city of big shoulders can put out a passport in a matter of hours. i am going to europe!!
while waiting for it to be printed out, i trekked through the streets of chicago, for once on foot. the city looks great. walking around gave me the chance to appreciate the insane amount of decor chicago has on its streets for the holidays. i decided to stage my own contest to see what high rise lobby has the best interior/cheer combo.
i believe the award goes to this one, and apparently this receptionist knew her lobby was a winner. free bikeith tee to the first person who guesses what building this is! messengers??
12.06.2009
trademark
like it or not? he didn't. he is mark welch, and that is what he prefers to go by, unless you are emailing him, where his alias is geraldo alvarez...don't ask me. if you know mark welch, you will enjoy this entry. if you don't, maybe you will be so blessed as to meet him or ride some of his handbuilt wheels one day. do me a favor, call him 'trademark' when that does happen - maybe it will grow on him.
mark welch is a friend to me, and a friend to me is a friend indeed. mark and i met on craigslist; he is my cycling significant other - you know the one. in the bike realm, he is that guy that you bounce things off to see what you get back. in the friend realm, he is that guy that always has an ear, and offers his criticism most only when prompted. although he usually sides with my significant lover, i appreciate the way we rarely see eye to eye.
that dimension is a major staple of our relationship, and our communion as bike partners. though mark is no more fond of the term 'partner' then 'trademark,' he and i define attractive in entirely different ways. thats what i like about mark: a genuineness not aimed at being agreeable for the sake of amiability. mark has a set of shoulders of his own on which to rest his head and the perspectives that comprise his humble personality.
to me, he's the best right hand guy you can have, as long as you are left handed. you want that person who seeks a similar end, but approaches the recipe with different means. that end is the relationship with the bicycle we respectively call our own. for those of you who need the recipe, i'll give you a hint: it involves freedom, trust, and fresh air. mark personifies this.
mark is in town now, in milwaukee, and having him here/around constantly (as was the case in chicago this summer) quenches a nostalgia for the aforementioned kinsmanship. his initial impression of milwaukee earlier this year wasn't a terribly inviting one. that changed this weekend, and i am about to explain why:
friday = a blustery winter ride to comet for a late lunch and the beermergency happy hour; outside to see a sexy track bike; across the street to koppa's where the cashier lauded his laughter; back on the saddle downtown to the swinging door; messengers were outspoken in their welcoming nature; tj maxx for the last two balaclavas; split a pair of smart wools socks for our drive side legs; 1.50 pbrs and corner bar stools + free shots from a probate judge; a christmas story based alleycat in a new town; numb feet tickling themselves back to life with more pbr's and strangers turning into friends; outside to see more sexy track bikes free locked if at all; brisk enduring ride home alas in riverwest.
saturday = a good morning's rest; awake to the mke collective to dig up some spokes; super nice radial wheel find; invitation from 'pops' to come back and volunteer + a recommendation for mark to find local work; home to lace up nothing but mavics (should be noted mark would rather build a wheel than make out with a hot hipster girl); finally a midnight skirt steak snack.
sunday = the 2nd annual bike swap; ran into ron and carene from lugs, all the way up from chicago; represented bikeith with 4 bicycles and a pastiche of parts; round two of the social competition to give away the most stickers; a free 32h sun rim + pair of armadillos for $5; plenty of bike junkies to schmooze with; familiar faces from friday at the door; reading/crying out loud to the book 'stuff white people like' + the movie bottle rocket; big delicious pasta dinner and sauvignon at carol's; 700c tires found on the way home.
having never done an alleycat, the co-op, or the swap here, it was about time. if i wanted to make a case for mark to come back soon, these last three days could not have played themselves out in a better way - we can say for sure we experienced milwaukee's best this weekend.
here's a shot of (trade)mark wearing sunglasses at night, a scene at the door, december the fourth.
mark welch is a friend to me, and a friend to me is a friend indeed. mark and i met on craigslist; he is my cycling significant other - you know the one. in the bike realm, he is that guy that you bounce things off to see what you get back. in the friend realm, he is that guy that always has an ear, and offers his criticism most only when prompted. although he usually sides with my significant lover, i appreciate the way we rarely see eye to eye.
that dimension is a major staple of our relationship, and our communion as bike partners. though mark is no more fond of the term 'partner' then 'trademark,' he and i define attractive in entirely different ways. thats what i like about mark: a genuineness not aimed at being agreeable for the sake of amiability. mark has a set of shoulders of his own on which to rest his head and the perspectives that comprise his humble personality.
to me, he's the best right hand guy you can have, as long as you are left handed. you want that person who seeks a similar end, but approaches the recipe with different means. that end is the relationship with the bicycle we respectively call our own. for those of you who need the recipe, i'll give you a hint: it involves freedom, trust, and fresh air. mark personifies this.
mark is in town now, in milwaukee, and having him here/around constantly (as was the case in chicago this summer) quenches a nostalgia for the aforementioned kinsmanship. his initial impression of milwaukee earlier this year wasn't a terribly inviting one. that changed this weekend, and i am about to explain why:
friday = a blustery winter ride to comet for a late lunch and the beermergency happy hour; outside to see a sexy track bike; across the street to koppa's where the cashier lauded his laughter; back on the saddle downtown to the swinging door; messengers were outspoken in their welcoming nature; tj maxx for the last two balaclavas; split a pair of smart wools socks for our drive side legs; 1.50 pbrs and corner bar stools + free shots from a probate judge; a christmas story based alleycat in a new town; numb feet tickling themselves back to life with more pbr's and strangers turning into friends; outside to see more sexy track bikes free locked if at all; brisk enduring ride home alas in riverwest.
saturday = a good morning's rest; awake to the mke collective to dig up some spokes; super nice radial wheel find; invitation from 'pops' to come back and volunteer + a recommendation for mark to find local work; home to lace up nothing but mavics (should be noted mark would rather build a wheel than make out with a hot hipster girl); finally a midnight skirt steak snack.
sunday = the 2nd annual bike swap; ran into ron and carene from lugs, all the way up from chicago; represented bikeith with 4 bicycles and a pastiche of parts; round two of the social competition to give away the most stickers; a free 32h sun rim + pair of armadillos for $5; plenty of bike junkies to schmooze with; familiar faces from friday at the door; reading/crying out loud to the book 'stuff white people like' + the movie bottle rocket; big delicious pasta dinner and sauvignon at carol's; 700c tires found on the way home.
having never done an alleycat, the co-op, or the swap here, it was about time. if i wanted to make a case for mark to come back soon, these last three days could not have played themselves out in a better way - we can say for sure we experienced milwaukee's best this weekend.
here's a shot of (trade)mark wearing sunglasses at night, a scene at the door, december the fourth.
12.03.2009
insert caption here.
these tires came from hong kong, and due to being the wrong size, i was issued a refund and told to keep them. this is the result of such bad news turning out so good.
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