Nothing about bikes

I can't resist posting this. This is nothing to do with bikes.  It's a clip from an opera, THE CONSUL, that I saw last summer in upstate NY, at the Glimmerglass Opera Festival.

The clip is actually from a 1960 tv production, and the black & white adds to the darkness and austerity of the story.  Quickly...the story is post WWII, some unnamed country in Eastern Europe...and the main character is Magda...who is at the Consulate, trying to get an exit visa...and is denied over and over....in the clip I've got here, she loses it when the secretary asks her ONE MORE TIME to fill in the appropriate papers.

Please take a few minutes and watch this....;o)  Here's the link:  TO THIS WE'VE COME.

Now that I think of this...this does have something to do with bikes!  It was on this trip this summer that my friend Timmy got me to commit to doing my first commute to work on bike when I got back to San Diego!

Car free!

After going around and around with the buyer on whether to do an inspection or not, all is done, and the car is sold!

I just took my first ride post sale...to the bank to deposit the proceeds from the car....nice.

So relieved...feel great.  And...VERY glad I took today as a vacation day so I didn't have to worry about getting into work afterwards.

Onto thinking now about the next big thing....my new bike purchase....going to test-ride a few this coming weekend at some of the local shops and get a feel.  I can spend from one end of the spectrum to another, theoretically....I think I have a good idea where I'll end up.

The pic is my current bike....bought 13 years ago right after moving to SD.....I think in the last two months I've put more miles on it than collectively I had racked up over 13 years....I'm planning on keeping it though as my errand bike....

QUOTE FOR TODAY:
An unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required that the German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists should be translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of English-speaking audiences.
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence