One More Cup of Coffee....

One more cup of coffee for the road
One more cup of coffee ‘fore I go
to the valley below...
Bob Dylan

...ran my bike into a concrete fencepost on the way to a yoga class downtown yesterday....actually, if yer gonna run yer bike into a concrete fencepost on the way to somewhere, a yoga class is a pretty good somewhere for that somewhere to be...as you pick yourself up, feeling somewhat dazed and unsure of whether you’re merely a bit scratched up or actually injured...one of the many uses for a yoga class is that you'll work out any minor trauma, and, if there’s anything seriously wrong, you’re probably gonna know it before the class is over ...

...and, as it turned out apart from a couple bits of skin lost on the right pointer finger and a slightly bruised right knee, no harm was done...

...but how, you ask, did this misfortune occur? I’ll give ya three different versions and let you decide which ya like best:

Version A: Going at incredible speed while doing a headstand on the seat, I suddenly hit a patch of black ice. A less skilled cyclist would have been killed.

Version B: There I was riding along when a little girl ran out onto the path. Having to make a split-second decision between possibly injuring this sweet, innocent child and the likelihood of grave injury to my own person, I of course turned valiantly toward the fencepost.

Version C: Riding along with a general lack of mindfulness, I didn't notice I was riding into a concrete fencepost until it was right in front of me.

...to those of you unimaginative and ungenerous enough to choose Version C, allow me to point out that this lack of attention might be attributed to a recent decision to cut down on coffee....as of about three days ago, I’m only having approximately one cup...or, at least, not-much-more-than one cup...per day...and my stomach’s already thanking me for it...

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, morning, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons....
T. S. Eliot

...the people at the coffee shop rolled their eyes and said oh god, not again! when I told them that....I generally quit completely for a month or so every year or two...just to let my insides recover from the general rich, full-bodied, incredibly tasty onslaught...oh god, just writing about coffee makes me want some...though my daily quota was filled hours ago...damn, I can hardly wait for that post-Saturday morning yoga class coffee tomorrow...which is why I have no desire to quit permanently...at this point, at least...some of the good things in life remain good things even when they’re not actually good for you....