All Hail Cool Mornings

There is always a certain pleasure associated with riding a bicycle to work. Watching all the sour faced people trapped in their little (or not-so little) metal boxes, angry at the world and all the other drivers, as I coast by, listening to Liz Phair or Jamiroquai or Glenn Gould's elegant Goldberg Variations on my Ipod Mini and smiling. In St. Louis, its a little thrilling, dodging rusted out dump-trucks, psychotic suburban soccer socialites Suburban's, uber-macho construction workers jacked up full size pick-up trucks and all the women putting make-up on as they drive. Bike commuting is also a sweaty enterprise for four months of the year. Wake-up weather is usually 78 degrees with 85% humidity for most of the summer, so no matter how easy a pace I take, I get to school with sweaty armpits, face, back, and balls. Now that September is here I can get up and ride to work (or to Meshuggah Cafe) without fear of sweaty balls. Pure Bliss.