Bah Humbug!

Why do I hate Christmas? Is it the rampant commercialism? Yes. Is it the boorishness and disregard for human beings that exponentially increases this time of year? Yes. Is it the ridiculous traffic that turns even the simplest of tasks into a taxing hair puller? Yes. Is it about people's pilfering of the planet by killing hundreds of thousands of life-giving trees for the sake of decoration and then irresponsibly discarding them without care? YES!

So last Tuesday, I left work around 7:30PM. I'm traveling south on La Cienega Bvd, which is 3 lanes in either direction and just crossed over Rodeo Drive in Culver City. I attain 60mph and am in the left lane with a van in front of me, a taxi to my right, another car in the right lane and a guardrail to my left. As we begin entering the curve, the van, without braking or swerving, runs over an obstacle in the road - of which I cannot see as the van is blocking its view. The van flung out the obstacle, which turned out to be a 7 foot tall f*#@ing Christmas tree that some gentle soul was so kind enough to discard/drop in the middle of the street, at night. This tree spun out from under the van, directly into my bike. With a guardrail to my left and car to my right, I had nowhere to go.

During what must have been nanoseconds, I, completely unknown to myself, surveyed the dismal situation, braced the tank with my legs, rose from the seat and pulled back. I have to say, hitting that tree at 60mph felt like I hit a wall! The front tire blew out instantly. I came to rest on the overpass leading to Kenneth Hahn park, under the street lamp. Clarity hadn't set in for a few more moments. I put the bike on the center stand and walked around her. The body all seemed alright. I couldn't tell if the suspension was damaged, but the front wheel was destroyed. I immediately called the local PD to remove the tree. Unfortunately it took them over 30 minutes to respond. Once I realized what had happened, i.e., what I had accomplished, I was rather surprised. Amazingly, I was able to keep the bike upright, cross 3 lanes of traffic, avoid being hit by cars 2 & 3 and pull the bike to safety. I am a decent rider, but this showed me that my skill level is beyond what I realized, and thankfully so.

While I am grateful I wasn't hurt, my disappointment with people and the situation had the better of me for quite a while. I now had no working transportation. I limped the bike back down to Rodeo and attempted filling it with air. It wouldn't hold anything over 25Lbs and only for a few moments. (As a reference, tires are rated for about 42Lbs). I then limped it to the next station whereupon I filled up the tire again, and so on and so forth until I got her back to the gallery.

I managed to find a wheel on Craigslist, picked it up, and with the help of a great friend, slapped on a new tire, balanced it and brought it back to the gallery to install. While it may be a different color, I'm back on the road within a couple of days. The Universe is a funny place...



While the photo does it a great injustice, this tree was 7 feet tall and about 8 inches in diameter at the trunk.


My baby in pieces at work.

With his pony pal Pokey, too...

Do you remember those old Zenith TV's; the ones where the tube was only 25 inches, but was housed in a GIANT wood console that took up half the room, had the dials you had to turn by hand - which, consequently, turned us children into human remotes - and would kill a man if dropped or attempted to be moved?

The year was 1978. The place was Somerville, NJ - my grandparents' house on North Clark Ave. I was sitting on the floor in the living room, shrouded in what seemed like green astroturf, on which I was always skinning some extremity on a regular basis. Glued to the tube, I experienced Gumby for the first time. It was instant love. That this being could walk through walls and into books and their stories, was fascinating! To this day, some 30 + years later, I can still remember the song: "Gumby, doo doo doo doo doo doo, Gumby, doo doo doo doo doo doo..." Throughout the years of my childhood, I watched countless reruns of Gumby and Davey and Goliath. I still catch myself throwing references to my friends named Dave, "Hey Daaaaaavey," that get lost in the abyss. The show's severe religious undertones were lost on my 3 year-old noggin, but the animation was the lure.

Art Clokey, the mind and hands behind the iconic master of clay, died yesterday. It is a sad loss of a good-hearted and talented man. He had so much love for what he did, that he refused to allow merchandising of any kind for 7 years after the initial release of Gumby, for fear that the parents might feel exploited. That's a far cry from today's biz.

Anywho, without further ado, a small tribute to Mr. Clokey. Thank you for your contribution, Gumby's definitely a part of many of us!