style: strauch

the morning benders

can't stop listening to this song this morning. winds are howling gusting from 60 to 90 kilometers. the waves are beyond big. now it's a matter of waiting...

for the swell to organize and the wind to switch.

Yours Truly Presents: The Morning Benders "Excuses" from Yours Truly on Vimeo.

dancing killer whales

most of us would not go to see a dancing bear -we would think of this 'circus' act as unethical and barbaric. yet we gladly support Sea World and other similar water parks who train their aquatic mammals to dance for spectators. why are these dancing mammals any different than the ones with fur?

reparations in Halifax: the Africville Legacy

the Halifax Regional Municipality will be making a public apology to the descendants of those removed from the community known as Africville for the purposes of constructing a new bridge.


the clip is quite telling. it shows how a community is marginalized over the years, the decades, and the leaders although stammering their words, explain how its OK.

this seems to be a time of apologizing. seems like it's a far enough gap that leaders are moved to make public and political amends. but is it just posturing?

I think so.

the people who were moved from Africville are still marginalized by HRM. and it's not unlikely that some strife comes from within the community. but self loathing is a characteristic present in all communities with generational poverty.

meanwhile in the suburbs someone burned a cross on the lawn of a bi-racial couples home. this is some KKK type shit way up here in Halifax.

it's not to say that Halifax is some maniacally racist place -on the contrary, for the most part, like the rest of Canada, Halifax is very tolerant. but beneath the beauty there is always a little filth.

style: robyn kegal

lines

got two two days of login in this weekend. cordless, five-over and glide and trim. you can see small kine lines comin in here. 4' @ 11 seconds is better than nottin. Blacks 'll tell ya

"when in doubt, just go. what else ya gonna do?"

why ride a bike every day?

"In the modern world it’s totally possible to live a completely safe existence. City riding adds thrills, danger, problem solving, social interactions, and adrenaline into my day. Better than coffee and goes well with beer."

from Urban Velo

bubs

breakfast 'o champions

got up this morning and went for a slow run. overnight runoff caused miniature frozen rivulets on the sidewalks and streets. most were easy to avoid but on the hill descending from my neighborhood there we so many frozen patches that it was like running around land mines. I ran slow, focusing on my foot falls and form. it was a good run.

then I took a shower and made breakfast while Moe sat in his rubber chair and bopped to the reggae blasting from the morning speakers. on the menu: course corn grits with cheddar and a little bacon, fried eggs, bacon, and toast with some good locally roasted French roast coffee.

give thanks

surf by bike trip

I've been kicking around the idea for some time now of doing a Nova Scotia surf trip by bike. the idea comes and goes each year and I've yet to commit to it. today I got the bug again.

when I first arrived in Halifax in 2006 I set out to scout some possible surf spots on my bike. I've always been quite skeptical of the interweb surf sites so I knew that I'd have to go and check for myself. the photo above is from one of my initial scouting sessions. this little spot can get good sometimes when the wind is right. the prevailing winds do not favour this spot however and I often go months without surfing there.

that photo was from the first and last time I ever took a ride to the ocean. seems silly not to do it more often.

perhaps if I could get an accomplice to come along on a bike to surf trip I may be more motivated to go through with it.

run!

"So Simple. Just move your legs. Because if you don't think you were born to run, your not only denying history. You're denying who you are."

Dennis Bramble

Halifax Fixie Freestyle?

found this while browsing a local bike forum. weird.

"The first ever fixie freestyle event has been announced for Halifax. Hardcore fixie riders are joyously celebrating the triumph of being recognized as real sportsmen and women. The event has gained some steam complete with sponsors and documentary film offers. American Apparel, Gus’s Pub and Frenchies have all pledged their support of the event.

In an effort to keep the level of sportsmanship sporty, the organizers have stated that experienced BMX riders will not be allowed to participate in the freestyle part of the event, however they are welcome to compete in the longest track stand and skid competition. The BMX community could not be contacted for comment –err actually when contacted they yawned and went on about their business, uninterested in continuing any further with the conversation.

Unbeknownst to the BMX and skateboard community the fixers are lobbying city officials for their own bike park, claiming that the streets will be overrun with fixies by next summer if immediate action is not taken. City officials refused to comment about fund allocations for the park. However, one official was overheard remarking that he’d never seen such an undernourished community group and wondered if perhaps the city should instead provide free meals to the fixers.

The organizers of the Fixie Freestyle event are also planning to start a bike polo league this coming summer. At the moment they are in talks with the NYC bike polo association to establish some grounds rules for the league, especially relating to appropriate handlebar width and whether team members are allowed to use different colour Oury grips. The excitement continues to build and riders can be seen all over the city practicing six inch wallies and long skids down Citadel Hill during snow flurries."

Hector Bustin Fixie Tricks @ Freestyle Toozdays from Dunamis Media on Vimeo.

happy birthday bob

jah, ever living, ever strong.

don't worry

four dubyahs

who: an 18 year old kid outta high school with a little grit, no sense, a library job for gas money and a white Karmann Ghia

what: a passion for moving across space atop magic carpets - concrete or water didn't matter

when:same as now -as much as can be fit in between things that otherwise matter less to him

how: with graceless abandon, sometimes timidity, in the heat of summer, with duct tape, no leash, behind the beach house after the hurricanes with no one out north of the pier, with cigarette dangling sometimes, with disregard for self harm -mostly always -no always passionately.

the author not the writer

Where do I begin? Over the past two weeks I’ve been endlessly devouring information as is so easy to do in the interwebs. Where has it gotten me? I have no fucking idea. One aspect of my personality that never seems to go away is this feeling of always wanting to do something, always on the verge of something great. Who knows if it’s simply remnants of childhood dreams of escape or if it’s adult escapism.

In an attempt to better understand myself I always ponder about my motivation to do “something.” For a long long time now, since my early teens I reckon, I’ve wanted to be a writer. I always pictured myself as a writer, doing readings and interviews, thumbing through the pages of my own books and admiring the fonts and page layouts. But therein lays the joke which I played on myself. I mean, I could I suppose, blame the joke on my ego. That is if there were a way to separate the I from the I. But their ain’t no way. So the joke is this: all I ever dreamed about was the fame and not the written word!

Big surprise eh! What a fucking brilliant mind I have. Well it’s probably why instead of writing wholeheartedly over the past twenty years I’ve got a half a book shelf of half scribbled-in journals and notebooks with hardly a word worth reading, and I don’t mean public reading, I mean me reading. I keep luggin the goddamned journals first from town to city, then across country and finally across the continent. And for what? Inspiration, material, nostalgia? I’ll tell you why –it’s a central theme in this here blog and for most blogs I guess. It’s for ego. Simple.

I mean who doesn’t want a legacy? Who wants to be forgotten? And who doesn’t want some recognition of their humanity within their own lifetime, even while they still have some youthful vigor? I’ll let you answer that one.

So here I am. Left to my own devices I’ll continue to devour information on the interwebs which will do me absolutely no favors. It’s a tedious life this life. Lucky for me there’s more to my life than ego and misinformation. Moe and B are waiting at home for to me cook super together, play together and dream together.

lingering conclusions

conclusions are not common
in real life
lingering admonishments,
like mid-morning moon opposing sun


a master of mistake
so good have I become
that irony
has rubbed clean off

lingering remorse
like day after
stomach flu
belly burn

a master of apology
irony lost
conclusions are like
winning lotto tickets

time does not wait
wrongs not righted
but forks in the road provide
the choice a wiser man would choose

to linger in thought
perchance this time
to go left
up that leaf covered path
where loved ones await
with open arms for now

lingering doubt should be
extinguished
resolution resolved
remorse restored
to quiet confidence
and peace
of longing
mind

uh huh

"well, well, well mister. you find yerself sittin behind a new desk, a bigger screen, a window. and a wha? a who?"

uh huh.

swells are marchin into the headland that I like best. I know it.

haven’t seen it.

bike rides in blowing snow. late to work on the first week. looks of surprise on co-workers faces. different culture.

I’m older than most and yet younger. less conservative perhaps? more active? more immature? all of the above?

dubcasts keep me sane and in the right riddim ‘n vibes.

got a a vampire story brewin in my head. but not bat vampires. more like blood drinkers –like the old time boys in Papua New Guinea who’d drink the blood of their enemies for strength. got the story marinatin in my head –post no-pocalypse type shit if you get my drift.

what else?
being a dad is rad.

need to start running again. next week on lunch breaks will do fine.

I need to feel these bones and muscles and tendons of mine movin and flexin or otherwise just give up and join the zombie crowds in zombie land.

we do live in our dreams you know. but dreams need not have concrete physical boundaries. we can live and play and dream in sleep and awake states. just ignore the rubbish, the sounds of zombies telling you how it is and should be and just do a thing.

i’m out.

Vice guide to Liberia

one of my favourite Canadian bloggers (by way of Monrovia, Liberia)has just completed a project with Vice's VBS TV on traveling in Liberia. Liberia has an odd and often turbulent history and is now coming into its own after years of bloody civil war. The Esteyonage blog written by Myles Estey is one of my favourite places on the web. Mr. Estey gives us a view into another world. his ability to find humour in every day life in Monrovia is often a sense of inspiration for me. and once inna while Mr. Estey will post some surfy news.

adventuring

big bombs. shifty. high tide refracting off the headland and making it all warbly.

got a few really good ones, a few not so good ones.

got pitched on about a 10 foot face, hood filled with ice water and felt like I would pass out. stunned as I finally came up for a gasping breath.

another wall of white water. try to duck dive to no avail. the white lifting me and pressing me down down down towards the bottom.

cold. stunned.

paddle exhausted towards the bay and back to position.

all in all a good session but I won't make a habit of going far from home. more hours driving than surfing.

still it was just a friend and I on a mackin point, the bows of the trees laden with fresh snow, the water a deep turquoise, and the sun shining it's mid-winter warmth on our faces.

tired tonight.

a good tired.