Saturday, November 16, 2013

Blame It On Pythagoras

And Once Again
As an elderly man of this the Hyborean Age, it falls upon me to tells tales of might and woe and also beer drinking. Might and woe I ain't so sure about, but beer drinking I know and also do I know about hard work and pain. I once was quoted as saying “there can be no art without pain” and while what I am currently involved in doing might not be art, there is at least plenty of pain. So maybe it is art after all but that is not what I came here to talk about; in fact, I have no idea what I want to say but as usual, you can count on me to say it anyway.

There's This
One of the things I always worked hard at teaching my various offspring were these little nuggets that I magically called “Secrets of the Universe” to make them sound enticing but really they were just the stuff of common sense, another thing that has involved pain and loss in my real reality but whatever the case, the Pythagorean Theorem is about as real as it gets and there is also Pi to consider. So there ya go.

And Then Again
Meanwhile, the Trailer Park Cyclist pedaled this morning; again in the predawn to the local coffee place for a mug and an apple fritter. Enjoying a momentary lapse of work, he then came home, drank the coffee, ate the fritter, pondered the Universe and then looked over in the corner of the trailer to where sat his forlorn and neglected Little Miss Dangerous, his Little Darlin', his 1981 Schwinn Super Le Tour bicycle, the partner of many a long ride, many adventures and much guilt.

There were clouds in the sky and rain foretold: and yet...

The Rest of the Story
Well, I rode. Worn out yet restless, I rode. The saddle beckoned and hurt my butt. The pedals were mired in some kind of glue and every little bump was painful. But I rode and the sky opened and the rain fell and the thunder rang and yes, there was lightning and it would have been disastrous and dismal but somehow, it was perfect: this is Florida and the rain was warm and my road was empty: rain-drenched and exhausted and recharged I plowed my way home and soaked up a hot shower and cracked a beer (and poured a shot) and here am I to tell about it.

And This...
What's to tell? Oh, just this: there are secrets in the universe and one of them is that the more it hurts the better it feels and also, sooner or later, pain pays off and another thing: A squared plus B squared equals C squared and 3.14 is a magic number.

Yer pal, Old Tim Joe

Whispering Pines Trailer Park and House of Mirrors
November 15, 2013