DJ My Ride
This morning I pulled out my bike, gave it a once-over with a wet rag, sprayed down the chain, and took off for work. It was a cold morning, and I discovered that my bike legs are sorely out of shape—a hard discovery since the ride to work is mostly uphill—but it was glorious anyway. For once I wasn’t almost run down from behind while passing Hickory Hill Park on the First Avenue extension. And since the robins have already dug trenches in their seasonal territorial wars, they provided more than a little entertainment as I huffed my way along.
The ride home this evening was better still. A good sweat is one of the best ways to wash off the cobwebs that attempt to hold one’s mind after work. A good sweat and good music is even better. Last year, my go-to albums for the ride home were decidedly stuck in the middle of last decade: Arcade Fire’s Funeral, especially “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out),” Jay-Z’s Black Album, and Josh Ritter’s The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter. Today, I cranked up the Black Keys and discovered it’s an exceptionally good band to ride to. Which, I suppose, shouldn’t be surprising. Imagine yourself tucked over your handlebars, chasing your shadow down a hill so fast the wind makes you cry, with this in your ears:
It really was quite perfect.
