The pre-dawn gathering of the Oak Park Bike Gang was a sight to behold. Resplendent with flashers and reflective clothing, our merry band of bikers gathered this morning for the "last ride" of the season. Though a few of us will persist in our commutes, today marks the final official group ride from Columbus Park, 6:30 AM MWF. Darkness at dawn, riding into the gathering light poses no difficulty, but riding home through the westside in the deepening dark is a menacing experience. Undaunted and illuminated though I may be, I too know my every days are numbered. The announcement from Paul that this would be the last ride prompted the whole crew to show up for the ride this morning-- all seven of us. Paul, Bob "ice cream", Cliff "the editor", Moe, Bill, Elissa and me, a.k.a. "the professor." Cliff was so inspired he composed a lovely poem, followed by Moe's limerick. Cliff's remark early on about our ride being the "Big Ugly" caused me to wax prosaic (see http://virtualbuck.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html "Beauty in the Big Ugly". Here is Cliff's poem, followed by Moe's.
pardon my erudition.
in answer to paul's pathetic sniveling
and Buck's intellectual poem
I am putting this plainly for the rest of us!
Ode to the "Big Ugly"
screw the light
I will be there
on my bike!
Guys and gals
in Jackson Park
head out with me
into the dark
Dodging bricks
and dodging glass
adding sore spots
to my ass
Paper vendors
hear Hakes' bell
cheer us on and
wish us well
Right on kostner
looking left
the skyline sometimes
takes our breath
Another vendor
says hello
where's the bellman?
he didn't show!
Thru the traffic
we're soon darting
as cars make way
like the Red Sea parting
Past the homeless
In dire straights
Strangely friendly,
when belled by Hakes
Professor Buck
now leaves the group
to find a cure,
in the chicken coop!
We cross the freeway
Paul's face reddens
a blonde throws kisses
as she beckons
Past Lou Mitchell's
Street Wise vendor
working hard
for legal tender
One more block
in half an hour
Bob says "Paul"
you'll need a shower!
Around the block
we take a right
and hardly ever
make a light.
We work our way
to Elston Ave
verbal sparring
With a cab!
Street is under
huge repair,
but no busses
travel there!
Hearing Moe's
sweet exhultations
on our way to
great libations
Starbucks beckons
in Logan Square
beware the preacher
he's always there!
after Starbucks
heading West
philosopher Moe
does not digress
He bequeathoth
his motley crew
a might morsel
on which to chew
before you know it
we're at George's
working through our
seven courses!
Our teeth are stained
and kinda bugly
from constant smiles
on the big ugly !
Cliff Carlson ©2007
to which Moe responded:
Boys and girls,
After reading the editor's ode I just have to join the last ride of
the year altho some of us old, retired geezers might continue at a
later hour.
A LIMERICK TO THE EDITOR
The editor did his poema
He'll never be the same-a
He hops on the spokes
And tells a few jokes
To forget that his tush is inflame-a.
As my little grandson would say, "See ya" tomorrow.
Moe
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