Weekend News Recap

It’s a full moon tonight. Last night at least, and maybe the damn thing is waning or waxing or does whatever it does when it goes from being bright to barely visible, but it was a big ol’ dang ol’ moon. There’s also another bright spot, Mercury or Mars or some other distant astrological object that, as I’m told these days, has a direct bearing on my behavior and personality. Whatever it is, I can see it clearly outside, and it’s clinging lifeless in a vacuum abyss, following patterns of gravity around a dying sun in a dead and airless orbit.

I’ve been a big bummer all day. I woke up after just a few hours of sleep to help lead the first leg of a Critical Mass event in central OKC. The idea was to give visibility to cyclists and show that we deserve space alongside cars…

The event seemed like a big success and a bunch of people showed up. But a motorcycle cop on the Classen/Western split bullied our group into going into different directions. Even though it’s legal for two cyclists to take a whole lane, and there was a hundred and counting, he was worried we would obstruct traffic on Classen at noon on a Sunday. Which is really the whole point of a Critical Mass ride, but nobody wants to call their dad for bail, so here we are.

I was supposed to lead the first leg of the group, the shortest ride, which was mostly families with young children, elderly, inexperienced cyclists, and people who just didn’t want to do the full route. I lost all of them immediately, these people I was supposed to help, but I lost and failed them. I rode laps around a few blocks, trying to find my people, and the feeling was like when I was eleven years old and visiting my grandmother and they dropped me off at the pool and I was walking home but had no idea where I was going and I ended up crying so hard. That feeling of being lost and feeling shameful because you’re lost and embarrassed because you’re just helpless. It all worked out in the end because here I am fifteen years later, but there’s nothing more embarrassing than being the person who was meant to lead the simplest thing possible and just absolutely fucking it up.

Did you see these window washers whose scaffolding somehow broke lose and flew around near the Devon Tower? Lack of control is terrifying, but when you’re high up enough that only a parachute or a squirrel suit would save you, what do you do? Hang on to the railing of course, but there’s only so much you can do when the Oklahoma wind is swinging you around like a lasso but hundreds of feet in the air and also smashing into glass window plates. It’s relatable.

Here’s another view, but don’t look at it if you’re afraid of heights, which is me too but I have to do the hard work for these things…

Luckily, those workers got down safely, which is fortunate because we’re entering EXTREME STORM SEASON:

It was bound to happen at some point, right? We’re almost done with May, and there haven’t been any destructive storms yet. What tie will Mike Morgan be wearing? Lackmeyer is prognosticating, so it must be bad:

Do you ever think about the weather finishing us off? Like, we all know there’s a mass of plastic the size of Texas floating around the oceans, which are about to reach boiling temperature and melt all the ice caps and eventually drown all of our cities in a hot salt water soup of fifty year-old Capri Sun pouches and dead dolphins. But let’s talk short-term here, like a cloud appears over your house and one minute you’re catching up on the DVR of Game of Thrones and the next minute a hellstorm has ripped your life apart.

Maybe these are just my nightmares, which are surprisingly infrequent, but last week I dreamed about being bitten by poisonous snakes and it was kinda funny in retrospect. Something is gonna get us, whether it’s being run down by an F150, dying on the job under the dime of an oil corporation worth billions, or just nature washing us down with rattling storms. The best we can do is keep a good attitude…