I finally did something I've been saying I'd do for awhile now - I took my bike out at night. Technically I didn't actually see the moon, but I'm sure it was up there somewhere.
Rehearsal got out at 9:20 p.m. (for me anyway, I think the actors had a bit more work to do), so when I got home from Santa Monica at 10 and Patrick was in the garage playing his electronic drums, I decided tonight was the night.
I put on an old pair of sweats, my cherry blossom t-shirt from D.C., sneakers and my helmet, turned on my bike lights, and headed out. It was about 10:08 p.m. My house is near a couple of major boulevards that have huge bike lanes. They're reasonably well-lit. I wanted to ride in a little traffic, to get more comfortable making starts and stops, to get to know my bike better, to gain some confidence riding around cars. I used to do it all the time (and this, without a helmet), but the streets of Culver City in the 1980s and 90s were possibly tamer than those of Lakewood/Long Beach. I don't know, our neighborhood is quieter and safer, but those same major streets with the big bike lanes have very fast traffic on them. Riding my bike to Patty's or school or work as a senior in high school was a much less exciting ride. In my neighborhood, the blocks are long between lights so I got to work up some speed, and I even made a left turn in the left turn lane with the light (following a Ford Thunderbird). Luckily there was no one else making a left behind me, because I couldn't decide if it was safer to ride on his right or left side, or right behind him, where I was. Surely that's an important decision, and I'll look it up later. Anyway, once I made that left, I got off the major streets and cruised the neighborhood. Still, lots of long blocks, hardly anybody was out and about. I made it a habit to make eye contact or wave at the few cars I did see. One car really liked that - as they drove away, they honked at me in a friendly manner. I felt like Dave Stoller. Ciao, papa!
After working hard I decided to head closer to home (I don't think I've even driven my car through those streets), and on the way there, passed a kid on a dirt bike (I say "kid" but it was dark, he could've been 45 years old). He was riding on the wrong side of the street, and when he saw me, he stood up on the pedals and started going faster. I think he wanted to race me.
I, of course, laughed in his face. Me? On my beautiful racy new bike? Against a dirt bike? Not a chance buddy (note to self: next time I see Eric at the bike shop, let him know just how often it is that I feel "racy." It's probably about 75% of the time. God I love my bike).
The other day I was talking to my co-worker Jesse (he's a cyclist) about how panty I get, and he reminded me of that simple breathing technique I know from somewhere of breathing in and out through your nose. He told me to control my breathing, not to ride along all open-mouthed and flailing. But see, I want to go fast, and I'm not fit enough (yet) to do that without gasping. As a musician I do know how to breathe, but as a cyclist, I want more wind in my face, I want speedier speeds, I want to take the turns balanced and free and fast, and if that means pumping harder than is currently comfortable, well, then so be it. Working hard pays off on a bike with speed! I told Patrick I'd only be gone 20 minutes, but 20 minutes turned into 50. If I didn't have to get up at 5 tomorrow, I'd probably still be out there somewhere. Night riding is awesome.
I had fun. Can you tell?
...
Oh, and here's a follow up to my earlier post about how "easy" it will be in the booth: I had a rough night tonight at rehearsal, and made a couple stupid mistakes. Felt a little bummed about it because I have one more chance - tomorrow - before we open. The actors did a great job as usual, and it was just stupid that I screwed up. The show is easy, but I'm not comfortable with what I see and how what I'm doing connect with that in a couple of key spots. The view from the booth is different than the view from the house or the stage and they're all way more familiar with things than I am. Ah, well. It'll be okay. The bike ride certainly helped, as well as listening to "Concert For George" on the way home. Why is it, do you think, that the Indian music portions of that CD always make me cry? I have no idea.
No comments:
Post a Comment