The Passage of a Few People Through a Rather Brief Moment in Time #156: Dead Presidents
One or more persons during a certain period drop their usual motives for movement and action, their relations,
their work and leisure activities, and let themselves be drawn by the attractions of the terrain and the
encounters they find there.
It's a bike ride.
Started by user nathansnider and user theroyalacademy.
It meets every Wednesday at 8:30pm at California Donuts #21.
We ride at 9pm.
We'll endeavor to return before the last red line trains (around midnight).
On the fourth year of this bike ride, you might expect:
- more inconvenient passageways
- more full moon picnics
- perhaps more "cover" versions of other people's rides, performed with amateurish enthusiasm
- certainly more amateurish enthusiasm
- pool halls
- bowling alleys
- dance parties
- imaginary histories
- scavenging for fun and sustenance
- more geocaching
- more oblique strategies
- more Oulipian constraints
- traffic median tea parties
- A medium pace (maybe not for beginners; certainly not a hustle)
- We're not in a rush; we don't need to run every light.
- Maybe some distance; maybe some hills; maybe both; maybe neither
- Victory donuts!
It was lonely at the top. No one really understood the pressures you were under as leader of the free world.
Sometimes it seemed that even your friends and closest advisors were just trying to hustle you for more
power, more prestige. And the press, no, they certainly weren't about to give you any breaks. And, oh, the
Congress! Don't even get you started on the Congress!
You're done with all that now, and good riddance, you say. It's time to start really working on your legacy.
You've gotten your library set up, of course, and you're starting to narrow down the mission of your charitable
foundation. You find that it's relaxing being outside the public eye, coming back into the spotlight only for the
occasional speaking engagement.
It's a relief. Really, it is. Finally freed of the constraints of the election cycle, you may elect to cycle wherever
you please. Up a hill perhaps, where you can settle into this newly contemplative life as an ex-president. Some
day, you think, years and years down the line, perhaps they will start naming topographic features like these
after _you_. Then, truly, you will have hit the big time. Who needs their face on currency when they've got a hill
named after them? Not you, that's for sure.
Talk, talk, talk...
Check out our new web site!
(and join the mailing list!)
The hacienda must be built.