Cowboy of Yellow

I've done so so many stupid things. There are moments I look back on: experiences drinking too much, where I ran out of gas, out of money, out of friends and I thank God that I'm alive. And yet, like a lot of other people, I come up with totally new ways of being ludicrously stupid on an almost daily basis.

I hate the subway. Well, that's not exactly true. I hate the morning commute on the subway. You gotta walk fifteen minutes to get to a train, wait ten minutes because you just missed the last one, ride next to shit-stink people, stand next to annoying people, listen to cell-phone people, push up against unpleasant people. And then you switch trains! Your packed like cattle. Angry, intelligent stupid cattle. And I love the motherfucker who reads his paper all over the place despite the train-car being packed with 150 people. My friend Chris times his departure from his apartment so that he gets to the train (which follows a schedule, believe it or not) exactly when it arrives. Otherwise he sweats on the platform before he's even riding down to work. So yeah, that's awesome.

When it's not the morning commute (6 train), the subway is a gift from the heavens. Gets you where you wanna go faster than a car and costs relatively little (despite recent fare increases). Breathe in, turn on the music, open your book; you're in a vast field surrounded by mountains. Sort of. I ride my bike every single day, rain or shine. My boss says the 'rain' part is a big statement about how badly I want to avoid the subway. With the exception of the 2nd Avenue gauntlet, I ride across different streets every day to and from home. New smells, people and stores abound. Freedom of the human machine supplemented by near-perfect design. I have clothes at work, will wrap my wallet and phone in a plastic bag if it's pouring, and I get to work in half the time that it would take via subway.

Cabs are cows. That includes the slow, stupid ones. That includes the poisoned dangerous ones. That includes the rabid ones. As we all stampede down second avenue, they stay in line for the most part and you can accurately see how they're going to move and where they want to go. Occasionally, you get the random bull who jets across packed lanes. I push next to them, herding them, racing in between them. When you're all moving forty miles an hour (the fastest my bike can pedal in the highest gear), you all think you're not moving at all because you're staying in one place relative to each other. You forget you're doing forty until something gets in the way doing zero.

So stupid. Oil spills, pedestrians, potholes, mechanical explosion. Like horse-flies, they're all right there, buzzing around in the three inches between me and the taxi next to me as we jockey for the lead. Did you know that in New York City, a bicycle is entitled to an entire lane of traffic? That's true! HAHAHAHAHAHA. So fucking stupid.

And tomorrow,

I will do the same thing.

Because I,

am a Cowboy of Yellow.