That little ray of sunshine.

Got out for a ride this morning, leaving at 7:30 in a balmy 5 degrees or so. Put it this way – I’m soft. The cold weather’s making me sooky. I know I claim to be a “cyclist”, but I’m not one of the proper ones yet. They get out at 5:45am when it's depressingly cold and dark. You’ve either got to be 40 plus (when the body starts naturally waking for the baby and sleep-ins are a fond memory) OR…well, committed. Neither of which I am or claim to be.

So 7:30 is a fair effort and two pats on the back for that. Then the inevitable began, numbness from my fingers all the way to my feet. So blah blah blah, more whining etc etc, the point is I was almost at the end of my tether until I saw that one little thing that made it all ok.

On a fire hydrant, written in blue texta, protected by a formidable combination of plastic sleeve and duct-tape was the ultimate ‘Talk to the hand technology.’ It reads:

“Hello Barry, I am not working today. Don’t need a lift. Stephen from the tennis courts.”

I pulled out my iPhone - dripping with the very same technology to which Stephen’s hand was raised - and captured a beautiful thing rarely seen in today’s modern world, a hand written letter. If this is Stephen’s equivalent of an SMS, then you can be sure his home phone employs the use of two tin cans and a length of string. 

I won't even begin to try and decipher how a note, stuck to a fire hydrant, facing away from the footpath, low to the ground, on the other side of the road to the tennis courts is going to grab Barry's attention. Not to mention Barry has to arrive at the courts in order to realise he's not required at the courts. There's a lot going on here that suggests not a lot is going on upstairs. But maybe that's what's so great about it.

I could be totally missing the point and reading too much into nothing more than a joke between friends, but for now in my reality, Steve and Barry, love your work. 

CR