I have reached the level of self-importance that I no longer write, but instead sift through past writing. April, 2015 marks a decade of the Big Ring Circus, a blog that began about mocking close friends on bicycles and became a tale of an inner child’s love for the wild outdoors, and a battle for daily freedom from the expectations of adult life. These posts at their best are cryptic little postcards from a space in time, a magic intersection of circumstances. At their worst they are lollygagging ramblings that served to postpone work, rides, or major life decisions.
I have accomplished a few things in my life, including being found again by a girl that I lost on Corvette St. in 1984. I adopted an apricot poodle, lost my work from home lifestyle, and made a desk from a sheet of plywood. Along with those achievements I logged 2160 pages, double spaced, 12 pt font. I managed to download and convert the entire thing to an editable format, and there it stops for now. What I want for Christmas is time. Time to think. Time to ride. Time to slash 2160 pages down to about 100, or 10, or 2. I am proud of many things I have done in the last decade, and equally discouraged by others. those are the stories I now want to unearth, spit-polish, and sell the masses for big, big money. Like sick, buy a new chamois kind of money.
I’ll probably just give it away though.