It is ridiculously cold outside and has been for days. I haven’t been on a bike since the weekend when I rode to meet some friends at a cafe, an approximate distance of one (1) mile. The thing is, it’s very, very comfortable and warm here inside my cave, and I am extremely reluctant to emerge.
My teammates attempted to cajole me into riding 34 miles of mountain biking in the stupidly cold weather this weekend, but I wasn’t able to because I didn’t feel like it. There were stream crossings and frozen mud. Fornicate that.
I like riding bikes and running long distances, but some feats just don’t fit my program. If you need someone to ride a mountain bike a ridiculous distance, allow me to recommend my friend Emily. She will pedal like a machine at high speed basically indefinitely, which is why she’s now a sponsored athlete.
I will be enjoying some soft jazz under my Snuggie in my warm apartment, which is why the only thing I get for free is more body hair.
In fact, the cold temperatures are why I made a special effort to get up this morning before dawn. I wanted to make it to the grocery store before the hordes descend. You see, there is snow in the forecast, and that means a boiling mob of humanity will rage through every grocery store in the city to stockpile bread and milk at some point this afternoon.
I expected the streets and aisles to already be mobbed when I got up, but things were fairly clear and normal when the sun came up.
I got lucky at the grocery store, and was able to purchase my items without incident. Still, once in the car, my mind was ablaze with the question that is surely foremost on every Atlantan’s mind this morning: Will it snow? If it does snow, will it stick?
I have uncharacteristically outside-in-the-cold images of myself on a bike later tonight in the snow that I would like very much to come true. I also recently got a sweet new light from The Gear Revival that I have been wanting to try out. I began to get giddy with the possibilities of a fun urban mountain ride in the snow with my friends.
But will it actually snow, and if it does, will it stick? Sweet lord, I hope so!
I began to sweat slightly with apprehension that it wouldn’t actually snow. But then, suddenly, I felt an almost mystical calm come over me. I knew exactly what I had to do on the way home. I had to consult the oracle that has graced me and my neighbors with its divine presence over the last week or so.
Yes, we are the happy worshipers of that wondrous all-seeing being… the Sidewalk Tomato.
Sidewalk Tomato appeared on the sidewalk a few days ago, very red and very smooth. Since then, it has apparently been set upon by beasts of some kind. Its outside appears to be chewed up a bit, but I think it only serves to make its appearance more wise.
No one has had the gall to remove it (or, heaven forbid, throw it away) but it has been making a daily progress of a foot or two down the hill. Is it being blown by the wind? Does it move under its own power somehow? No man can say for sure.
Praise be to you, oh fleshy fruit of the walkway!
I posed my meteorological questions to Sidewalk Tomato, which is to say, I prodded it with my foot. It was frozen solid.
Sidewalk tomato has spoken! It will snow tonight and it will stick!
You heard it here first, folks. I cannot wait! Praise be to the Tomato!