My favorite thing about life is that it’s completely unpredictable and sometimes pieces come into place that you never saw coming.

Happy Memorial Day, folks. I’ve had an amazing weekend.

Drunk bike ride to a party. Rode too far north. Ended up at 50th and Ames when I was supposed to be at 48th and Erskine. Turned around. Rode south down Fontanelle Blvd. Played guitar hero for the first time. Saw some pals. Drunk bike ride home from a party. Stopped at the smoke pit for some ribs and some bbq sauce. Saw a blockaded street from 46th down to Saddlecreek. Lots of black and whites. Rode around a few of them. Gave a bum a thumbs up and said ‘evenin’ brother’ when he said ‘hiya stranger’.

There are entirely too many Burger Kings and Walgreen’s stores in Omaha, Nebraska. I keep a personal tally in my head as I zip past them on my bicycle. 30th & Douglas. 90th & Maple. Saddlecreek & Center. 72nd & Dodge. 61st & North Radial. The list spins on and on in my head and there are locations I can picture in my mind but not place on a map to save my life.

Every parking lot-

Every store-

Every restaurant-

They all look the same. The cities and streets may change, but the stores look the same.

I turn my head slightly to check for traffic as I look for a street sign.

Ah, 50th street. I’m making good time. I let my mind return to wandering. I spend a lot of time being very focused on things and when there’s time to let my mind run free, I do exactly that.

I need new tires, I think. I just filled mine with air at the gas station on 24th & Leavenworth this morning, but they seem almost spongy now. They don’t look flat though. And I’m moving fine. It might just be the cloud of smoke I filled my head with before heading out.

Every bump in the road has it’s own personality and it’s own kick. The sidewalk down by Cummins Electric is torn to shit and twice I screech my brakes to a hault before switching sides of the street. I zipped right past the open doors at the Marleybone and nearly got hit by a woman on a cellphone leaving the parking lot at Baker’s. I didn’t either bother giving her the finger. She nearly hit me, but as she did not, I can’t stay mad.

It’s too nice outside to stay mad.

The sun is out and warming my back and I am stark, stoned, and totally aware. I am totally in control- I feel totally in control on my bicycle and I don’t feel that way in cars. In cars, I always feel doomed to be the passenger- even when I’m the one driving. Doomed to be a passenger, but in love with the passenger seat. I don’t like the small walls around me. I don’t like accelerating or driving on the interstate. I don’t like seat belts. I don’t like car stereos. I tense up. Get nervous. Fingers lock onto the wheel and I hang on for dear life. On my bicycle, I decide how fast I can go. If I want to be leisurely, I can be leisurely. I don’t pay meters. I switch between street and sidewalk riding as effortlessly as I breathe.

Another Burger King. 44th & Dodge. There are 32 Burger Kings listed in this year’s Yellow Pages. There are also 32 McDonald’s. There are 25 Walgreens Drug Stores. I’m trying to wrap my head around that many restaurants or stores that all look the same. Every store advertises the appearance for the next one. I shake my head and ride on by. No wonder people in Omaha drive so much. You can pop from drive thru to drive thru for food and prescriptions and even package liquor.

I’m thinking about lyrics to a song I wrote- All these seedy tweakers man, I’ll never understand, that Midwestern love of speed. It’s in their kitchens & in their cars & in the alleys & the bars…That wasn’t just about methamphetamine and Council Bluffs bars- that was about cars & driving fast & instant gratification & things I’m used to being around growing up in the midwest but have a harder time understanding the older I get.

I’m used to waiting for things. Maybe that’s why I like to cycle. You always get where you’re going. But it’s just much more active. I feel every turn and bump in the road. I know which roads are good to ride and which ones to stay away from. I don’t ever freeze up in front of cops on my bike. I receive friendly nods from other cyclists all the way from 93rd & Bedford to the country roads outside of Council Bluffs, Iowa.

These are the roads I know. Some littered in bright store lights and others just gravel roads leading out into great wide open spaces. Like Jonathan Richman said, ‘I want the city but I want the country too.’ I know both of those roads. And just maybe I have everything I need.