The Raleigh Twenty

 The Raleigh Twenty was my bicycle in high school. Now that I think about it, it was my first bike. The first one that wasn't a hand me down or something I shared. Though, everything in our house was community property for the most part, and things I was given by my father turned out to end up being his, or other peoples later when he thought them unsuitable for me at some point (have I told the story of my first car? Remind me to tell you the story of the first car.) So, when I was not interested in this bike anymore, and he had brought home the more fashionable beach cruiser for my younger sister and I to ride, this was just sort of absorbed into his collection.

His friend Leann was...having a yard sale? Had just acquired more collectibles?  I don't recall...I remember standing in her front yard, of the lovely little house she rented on 10th and...Pearl-ish area of Santa Monica and my father loving this bike. Trying to talk her into parting with it, he said "Sydney needs a  bike!" She asked if I did, and did I like this one. I said yes, to both questions. I really did like the bike. I really did hope it was going to be mine, and not a thing he was telling other people was for me, but was really for him. (This was never intentional really, things just mattered more to my dad than most people and so if you were not interested he would say you were so he could get something, or if you lost interest in it he wold save it from the trash. Everything had a use and a meaning to him.)

The bike was mine throughout junior high and high school. My sisters were not interested, he had many bikes, all used and rusted; but this one was always so charming. It had so much more personality than the others. After the beach cruiser became more practical I lost track of this bike, it went into his Santa Monica storage, then moved to Culver City storage, and when he passed away I reclaimed it. Leann asked if I still had it, and I kept it, either for her or I to restore and ride. It has now been 4 years. I am pairing down my things, trying to totally liberate myself from the clutter and chaos in my apartment, and I am just not going to restore this bike. I have to let it go.

I have known this for, I don't know...a year? I am not totally sure why it came with us when we moved in May 2012. The lady that lived upstairs from us in Palms asked if I was willing to sell it, and it didn't feel right. That's the only way I know how to explain holding onto this thing for 4 years. It never felt right to let it go. For a month I have tried to motivate myself to post the thing on craigslist, it's been hot, I've been busy. For whatever reason I got out and did it Sunday.

Then, I panicked. I have to let it go. I could hear my father say the price I was asking was too low, it's an antique! It's worth money! But, it's very rusted...if it is going to get restored, you can't sell too high. Crap...I'm going to have to let this thing go!! He would be so mad at me..but what am I going to do? Schlep it around for the rest of my life? I do not have the time or money to put into this thing when photography (his and mine) and dance are calling.

I had an email from a man named Jon Sunday night, just his number, just asking to call. I put it off. Other emails asked about the bike Monday morning, but we go in order of who asked first.

He sounded European, and a little older on the phone. He said this was the bike he rode throughout his school years in Philadelphia. Even in the snow! He loved this bike. He had been searching awhile. I told him I would text him the address, and be home at 6:30pm. I warned him it was gonna really need some work. It had been neglected. At 5pm he texted to say he was leaving his house now. I confirmed I would not be home till 6:30. He responded "NP".

 

 I go home, unlock the bike, and say a formal goodbye. I thank her for her many years of service, tell her I always loved her and I always will. I acknowledge out loud I can hear my father arguing with me I am making a mistake, but I can not care for this bike. If there is a person that will appreciate her and can put time and money and love in, that's where the bike belongs. I kiss her handlebar, say goodbye and pull her out of the carport.

Jon texts right then he is parked in the alley behind my building.

I waddle forward with the bike, approach a white Prius with dark tinted windows, and a man with white hair and glasses emerges. "Jon?"
"Yes, yes hello Sydney nice to meet you!"
He takes a look at the bike. "Oh yes, this is it. I rode this bike all over Philadelphia when I was in school. Even in the snow! I would ride over to my wife's house then, when we were dating, and lean against it and wait for her to come outside. Her father would tease her. Say I was crazy for riding my bike in the snow."

Oh my god.

I tell him this is just what I was hoping for. Not someone that needed extra metal for scrap. Or someone that didn't know what they were buying, but someone that would appreciate and put love into this bike.

He looks closer, and realizes the rust is pretty bad. He has a guy, he's bringing him the bike tomorrow, and he said to be sure there is not too much rust. He asks my price again, his eyes are bad and he wasn't sure what I was asking. He winces when I tell him. I knock $15 more off and he hands it to me and starts opening the hatchback on the car. I tell him to please keep my info and send me a picture when the bike is finished. I've had it since high school, I really intended to restore it myself, but I have not had time or money. I am so pleased I found him, I am so happy he wants to restore it. He gasps and then smiles when he hears this, "it was your bike in school too?!" He assures me he will send photos. We both have a good laugh about how you can't be sure who you are going to meet on craigslist and we are both so pleased this was such a positive interaction. He says he is so relieved that after driving all this way it worked out. That's when I find out he came all the way from Laguna Niguel!! Almost 70 miles in rush hour traffic for a bike he's been searching for for years.

Sometimes you wait and don't know why. Sometimes you hesitate and can't explain. I held onto a rusty bike for 4 years and moved it 20 miles because my gut told me to and in the end, the bike got the home it deserved.

Interviews with Punk Rockers from the early 1980s, Los Angeles

Nat Turner’s rebellion begins

August 21st 1831: Nat Turner’s rebellion begins

On this day in 1831 the Virginian slave Nat Turner began the deadliest slave rebellion the United States had ever seen, which resulted in the deaths of 55 whites. Turner, a slave preacher, had come to believe that God intended for him to lead a black uprising against the injustice of slavery. In the evening of August 21st 1831, Turner and his co-conspirators met in the woods to make their plans and early the next morning began the rebellion by killing Turner’s master’s family. Turner and his men, who soon numbered over 80, then went from house to house assaulting the white inhabitants. Eventually a local militia, and then federal and state troops, confronted the rebels and dispersed the group. Turner himself initially evaded capture but was captured on October 30th. Subsequently Turner, along with over fifty other rebels, was executed. However the retribution for Nat Turner’s rebellion did not end there. The uprising sent shockwaves across the South, and while full scale rebellion such as Turner’s was rare in the Deep South due to the rigid enforcement of the slave system, caused widespread fear of another rebellion. In the ensuing hysteria over 200 innocent black slaves were killed by white mobs. Turner’s rebellion came close to ending slavery in Virginia, as in its wake the state legislature considered abolishing the ‘peculiar institution’. However the measure was voted down and instead the state decided to increase plantation discipline and limit slaves’ autonomy even further by banning them from acting as preachers and learning to read. Similar measures were adopted across the slave-holding South and thus Nat Turner’s rebellion increased the South’s commitment to slavery, despite undermining the pro-slavery argument that it was a benevolent system and slaves were content. Turner has left behind a complicated legacy, with some seeing him as an African-American hero and others as a religious fanatic and villain; his memory raises the eternal question of whether violence is justified to bring about necessary change.

(source)

 

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Lita

http://www.guitarworld.com/bitch-back-lita-ford-discusses-her-new-live-album-gear-and-more

 

She talks about meeting Robert Plant at Gazzarri's! 

:-O

Links

So, I'm gonna stop aiming for Friday links, it just doesn't seem to work for me. Fridays always seem to be the busiest for me at work lately, and then the weekend starts...it's hard for me to pre-load the links posts like I do for most of the Saturday Happy Songs because I need to build the links posts. It takes a lot of time and attention, even more so if I am gonna give a blurb about what the links are or what I like about them...And I just haven't been sure if that is worth it in a little while.

So, here is a bug dump of all the things I have liked or found compelling or worth sharing on the internet since the last time I gave you a links dump a couple weeks ago. Enjoy! :) ♥ 

♥Chinese Factory Workers and the Toys They Make
This was amazing. It is a photo study called 'The Real Toy Story' by German-born photographer Michael Wolf. He did a whole gallery instillation using toys made in China held to the metal walls of the gallery with magnets.

♥Amy Poehler writes a short essay about her job the summer she was 17

This pumpkin:

 

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♥'Classic Rock Stars At Home With Their Parents' LIFE Photo Series

Especially this one of Frank Zappa and his parents and cat:

♥The Starwood: Home of Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll
I love the punk community...

♥Best Halloween Events In L.A.

Which, through it's amazing header photo that I LOVE of a young girl entering The Bates Motel introduced me to:

♥Carolyn Hampton Photography
LOVE! What an amazing photographer.

♥Malala Yousafzai on The Daily Show:


♥Brides Throwing Cats Instead Of The Bouquet

♥We've all wished we could put tiny clothes on a hamster

♥“500 DAYS IN DOWNTOWN L.A.” Walking Tour

♥Haunting Photos Of 'Dead Man's Curve' Vehicle Graveyard

♥Joni Bakaradze Mummy: Mother Claims To Have Preserved Son's Body For 18 Years Using Alcohol

♥'Shark Cat' Is The Most Important Song To Hit The Internet

♥Maria Tallcheif died... :(

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The Ankle Chronicles - post 1 of who the fuck knows - a HUGE rant

It's Sunday.
It's a quarter till 6pm.
It has been a super sucky weekend, ending a super frantic turned sucky week.
I am tired and frustrated. I feel helpless and depressed.

Wednesday night I was with Mia and was leaving her place to go visit a friend that was in the hospital. This friend only had visitor's till 9pm and it was 7:30pm. I was not paying attention as I rushed back out her door and down her porch steps. I missed the last 2 steps. I stumbled. I fell. ON my right ankle. I heard it crunch. I screamed.

I was in SO MUCH pain. I had never felt such pain after a fall before. I got scared. I knew it was really bad from the very moment I heard it crunch.

I went to the E.R. they wrapped it and gave me crutches (They took no address or insurance information from me, I am scared to see this bill...should it ever get to me) and was told to follow up with my doctor the next day. I did. She also did not want to commit to the ankle being broken, she said let's plan for it to be broken and then if it's not it'll be good news! Go to the ortho doctor she says. Went to him the next day (this whole time people that I am relating this tale to are freaking out about how I haven't had it set yet and this is day 2...well, are you able to get a referral and a specialist appointment in 24 hours? Anyway, it's besides the point, but this is going to be a whiny post cause I have had a sucky week and have been surrounded by stupid people). Can I just say sarcastically that the best part of this whole thing is I was completely sober. That I have had nights, all dressed up and wearing way too high shoes, so drunk I couldn't see, and I have survived those totally unscathed. That I had on Doc Martens oxfords, and had not one drink or smoke or drug in my body, and simply due to being anxiousness and being rushed I fucked over the next month of my life...

Ortho doctor says there could very well be a hairline fracture in there, in a weird place. Other than that it is acutely sprained, muscles torn, deeply bruised. Gave me a "Walking Boot" and told me elevation and ice, stay off it as much as possible. I went home and did just that. I have done that Saturday (except to get ready to go out to a much needed girls night out Saturday that was canceled...), and I did that today (other than to go out to breakfast with girls I was supposed to have girls night with last night). I am so tired, and bored and frustrated. I can't walk at all. I love that I have been home, but I am not sure I will get paid for not coming in Friday, and I know I won't get paid for taking the last half of Thursday off. So, this whole ordeal has become uber expensive and I have just sat on my ass with ice on my ankle. It wasn't like I was getting cleaning or projects done.

This is SD's last weekend of summer vacation, and I wanted to be able to help her pack food, and get ready. I wanted to start a whole new page after having an amazing party weekend with friends and instead I am just gonna try and survive the week, again. My partner is exhausted, he has done my laundry, his laundry, helped move the last of his daughter's stuff in, taken me to all doctor's appoints, carried me to and from the car when needed and slept next to my huge booted foot and will be driving everywhere till I can drive again. I can't drive...I also have to take this paragraph to give a shout out to Mia, who stayed calm, went with me to visit our friend in the hospital and then waited 3 hours for me to come out of the E.R. so she could drive back to my place, pick up my partner and then drive back to her place where I left the truck. All on a school night! 

I TOTALLY get that I will heal. Probably fast because I am in very good health and take care of myself. I understand that I will probably be walking in my walking boot next weekend and the weekend after that the ortho doctor will X-Ray it and probably tell me I am close to healed. I understand that this is probably about a month out of my life. But, still, THIS IS A MONTH OUT OF MY LIFE!! GRRR...This will test me...

I actually have to remind myself that this week didn't start out sucky, that last weekend I got to spend 3 days in a row with a very dear friend of mine out from the east coast. That I got to say good-bye to that friend this morning at breakfast and for these things I am blessed.

I will use this to make me stronger, and be inspiring and I know I am resilient and I will rise above. I KNOW this. But, my week still sucked really bad and the upcoming week is gonna suck really bad, and I needed to vent.

Thanks for the ear.
Done now. Moving on.
♥

Rachel Brice interview

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This is a wonderful and inspirational interview I have meant to share for a while now. Very good read. ♥

Those times when that crucial button in the middle of the bust portion of your blouse pops open and you walk around 99 cent store with the center of your bra showing and everyone laughs at you but no one says a damn thing.

My life rocks.

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My eye caught a dark form lying on the river bottom. It took me a few moments to comprehend what I had stumbled upon. Lying peacefully in the shallow waters of the river, only a few meters from shore, was a full-grown cougar. The contrast between the serenity of the scene I was witnessing and what must have played out here in the cougar’s final moments made me shiver. It was the first shiver of many, as I stripped down and waded out into the icy water to get this shot. (source)