Cars Are Hard and Bigger Than You

Got smacked pretty good the other day. I was heading south on Vanderbilt, straight through the light at Fulton. A guy in white car heading north on Vanderbilt decided to turn left onto Fulton and didn't yield to oncoming traffic. I remember the accident in three parts: 1. hey, I think that guy is about to hit me 2. ouch, I am on the windshield 3. hey, I'm in the air - where's my bike? Then I was laying on the pavement waiting for it to start really hurting. For the most part, I seem to be okay. No blood, anyway. The red bike is dead & gone. RIP red bike.

Based on this experience, I have decided that I am indestructable. Awesome!

The above picture is me in my new loft. The red bike is against the wall behind me - this is the last known photo of the red bike intact. It was rubbed out less than an hour later. Bastards!

---

Update on the graffiti wars: I guess the warmish February weather has inspired some creativity, because this loveliness was left on top of the Williamsburg Bridge sign. Very nice! I stopped to look at it more closely on my way home tonight. There is actually some sophisticated line work in there - more than you would probably imagine at the thought of the word "graffiti". It is starting to look like the powers that be have given up on cleaning the sign. Maybe this is just for the winter, though.