winter, tying up some loose ends

Once in awhile, that winter holiday magic works its way into my soul like chapstick into cracked lips. Most of the time, though, I tend to find the winter holidays both dull and dulling. Exhausted by forced socialization and artificial cheer, demoralized by the fact that most everyone I'd prefer to spend time with has fled the city for vacations and/or family reunions, this is the one time of year I find myself wishing I owned a TV.

Tonight, however, I've determined to fight the winter holiday blues by attempting to write about a few things I've been meaning to write about for at least a week or two.

First, I'm delighted to announce -- however belatedly -- that Thomas Basbøll has started a blog, Pangrammaticon. Thomas has a knack for making seemingly offhand, quiet, and casual remarks that function not unlike the proverbial flaps of a butterfly’s wings which, via a series of chain reactions, cause a hurricane on the opposite side of the globe. Although his blog has only existed for a short while, it's already full of rich material. I've learned a great deal about my own positions and the stakes involved in maintaining those positions through discussions with Thomas, and I'm grateful for the time that he's taken to share his thoughts. Although I can't wait to see what he comes up with for his blog, I must also confess a certain envy and trepidation -- he can post much, much faster than I can even hope to respond!

Second, I love the series of prose poems that Laura's been posting, starting, I think, with Rules of Conjecture, proceeding through the stunning Anna to the most recent (as of 11:05pm Sunday night), Contract. Also, I just now noticed that she'd included me on her crushlist awhile back. Am I lame or what? Laura, it's truly an honor to be included. Thank you.

Third, I'm working on responses to both Thomas and Joe on the enlightenment vs. ideology discussion.

Fourth, my partner Gerardo and I participated our first Critical Mass ride. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of bicyclists take over the streets, blocking and dodging traffic, with no pre-planned route in mind. Call it arrogant, call it rebellious, call it stupid -- I call an embodiment of joy itself. We rode up Market street, into the Tenderloin, through the impossibly congested-with-snooty-shoppers Union Square, down through the underground cargo bays of the Sony Metreon, back through the Tenderloin, up to Fillmore, down to the Mission (my neighborhood!), ending at Dolores Park. There were so many beautiful and poetic moments that just blew me away: the huge amps-on-wheels blasting punk, hiphop, and dance music that a couple of brave and strong-legged souls hitched to their bikes; the quiet moments pedaling furiously uphill, no music, no conversation, just the sounds of breath and gears; the kindness of this angelic guy with a huge gray 'fro who stopped every few blocks to do emergency repairs on someone's bike (he helped me switch gears when my bike refused to do it on a steep incline); the soaring down Fulton street toward City Hall, no traffic, just the bikes, feeling like kids feeling like superheroes or supervillains swooping down upon Metropolis.

Fifth, I made it through Buy Nothing Day without buying coffee. I didn't think I'd survive, but I managed to find some Hawaiian coffee that a friend had given me almost a year ago. Lacking a coffee maker, I put some grounds in a tea strainer, then poured the water from cup to cup. It wasn't the best, but it got me through the day.