It was a genuine Christmas miracle, as the skies, which had been spitting rain all day long, cleared up just in time for Santa and his attendant gang of cycling miscreants to depart Westlake Center fueled by holiday spirit, holiday spirits, and a spirited mix of holiday tunes blasting from tehJobies’ soundbike, whose dulcet tones were a joy to the world within earshot as we wended our way through some of the more populated areas of town via routes and pathways accessible only to those on two wheels or behind the reins of a flying sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
In fact, the sole cloud cover all evening was precipitated by the decision of an especially festive Derrick to light a campfire underneath the park shelter roof thereby creating an inversion of greenhouse gasses that did little to warm our tiny corner of the planet but managed to momentarily blot out the shimmering stars and glittering quarter moon that were in evidence to anyone on the outside looking up.
Plus, the world didn’t end as predicted, an outcome that would have been particularly a shame given how much hot water there was to consume, thanks to the shared efforts of Santa’s thermos-bearing helpers.
It’s been a somber holiday season so far, due in no small part to the senseless tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut, last week, but there comes a time, I think, when the memories of those lost and their loved ones are appropriately served by a reclaiming of the festive mood, and so, while it seemed to take a little time for the toddies and tunes to make holiday magic happen, there’s no doubt that most in attendance were lit up like Christmas trees by the time we pedaled westward to Freelard for a nightcap or three.
Santa Claus is coming to town and we are admonished not to pout or cry; when he’s with you on a bike ride, though, who needs any such reminders?
In fact, the sole cloud cover all evening was precipitated by the decision of an especially festive Derrick to light a campfire underneath the park shelter roof thereby creating an inversion of greenhouse gasses that did little to warm our tiny corner of the planet but managed to momentarily blot out the shimmering stars and glittering quarter moon that were in evidence to anyone on the outside looking up.
Plus, the world didn’t end as predicted, an outcome that would have been particularly a shame given how much hot water there was to consume, thanks to the shared efforts of Santa’s thermos-bearing helpers.
It’s been a somber holiday season so far, due in no small part to the senseless tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut, last week, but there comes a time, I think, when the memories of those lost and their loved ones are appropriately served by a reclaiming of the festive mood, and so, while it seemed to take a little time for the toddies and tunes to make holiday magic happen, there’s no doubt that most in attendance were lit up like Christmas trees by the time we pedaled westward to Freelard for a nightcap or three.
Santa Claus is coming to town and we are admonished not to pout or cry; when he’s with you on a bike ride, though, who needs any such reminders?
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