As I pedaled my way to work this muggy morning, I found myself transported, nay, transfixed, no wait .... transfigured! Just before the intersection of Division and Cleveland, a strange blip appeared in the upper left hand corner of my vision. At first it made complete sense that a misguided bug had mistaken my cornea for a beautiful flower ever ready to invite some pollinator in for breakfast.
But I felt no pain, no discomfort, so I quickly reworked my initial assumption and decided that this strange new blip within my sight line was actually some physical object out in front of me. It's at this point that my story becomes quite literary, at least for me, because what I was looking at was a mirror image of myself. There was a human being using a two-wheeled human-powered machine to get himself to work (or home from the bar ... let's not judge.)
Before I could fully grasp the import of this moment, the deus ex machina of my story appeared directly to my right ... another human being on a bicycle!! And this man, this prophet of cyclical depth and meaning, tipped his hat to me and said, "Good morning."
Good morning, indeed, my cycling friend. Good morning.
At this point in the story you should know that the Guthrie by Bike house band is really tearing it up with a melodramatic background tune. Wish you could hear it. The new pan flute player is just shredding that thing.
