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the less you expect, the more that
happens.
it was nice to have
a day with no set goals
other than showing an
old friend around,
an easy bounce from bar to record shop
and back for Big Mario's 3-4 pm $1 beer
happy hour. off in search of more vinyl,
things took a turn when a doored cyclist
sat bloodied and dazed in broadway gutter.
i asked if i could help; she requested a
napkin.
she was calm, probably in shock,
self-diagnosed
broken clavicle, cracked ribs, smashed
knee, and
who knows what. i gave her a card, the guy to call.
it sucks to have to touch the system,
but that's what
it's there for. (when sarah got doored,
we neglected
to file a police report and later had no
recourse.)
the gymbody perp in fancy SUV was taking
some
responsibility (he didn't run), but he
also pinned
the blame on a passing bus and the
shadow it cast.
sorry, dude, that's no excuse; you need
to be more
careful. and it didn't help that the
only empathy
he offered was: "good thing you were
wearing
a helmet!" earlier, on a happier note,
we ran into
Josh Okrent
outside his office and I introduced John
as
the badass bass player he is. well, holy
shit, guess what?
Josh's bass player just moved to China,
so maybe John found a
band to gig with? i took this
picture for the inevitable rock
doc.
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