Crack pipes
16 August 2005
I own a 1972 Honda CB500/4 motorbike, and I park it on the street in my wonderful neighborhood, the Lower Haight district of San Francisco. The problem? The bike's sparkplugs keep disappearing. I'm told that urban crack addicts are notorious for breaking off the top piece of exposed sparkplugs (like mine) because, in a pinch, the ceramic part makes a decent crack pipe.
I recently lost two sparkplugs to the crackheads in under a week, so I really started thinking hard about how to put an end to this nonsense. I mean, come on, I've had my bike towed because a missing sparkplug kept me from moving it. And even though I now keep a stock of replacements on board to prevent that from ever happening again, new plugs aren't exactly a dime a dozen nowadays. This is not an inexpensive problem to have.
In thinking about this, I realized that short of garaging the bike, really the only way to solve my problem would be to provide a more appealing (and cheaper!) alternative to smoking crack through a spark plug. And that's how I found myself in a very strange position -- one that, quite frankly, I never imagined I'd wind up in: leaning over a case of crack pipes at the local head shop, asking the proprietor if he'd cut me a deal on a hundred of 'em.
The idea is to cover my motorcycle with crack pipes, free for the taking. Who'd go through the trouble of breaking off one of my dirty old sparkplugs when there's a hundred perfectly good crack pipes to get through first? Maybe the pipes would be velcroed on so that they'd be securely fastened yet still easily removed -- who knows? As long as I can keep the per unit cost down, it seems to me I'd be better off. Plus, can you imagine how awesome my bike would look covered with glistening glass? Seriously, would it not be the coolest bike in the Lower Haight?
So, I don't know much about crack pipes, but I have a feeling the guy at the Twighlight Zone Smoke Shop wasn't offering me a smashing deal. Anyone know where I can get a good price on crack pipes in bulk?
Brand New Colony
11 August 2005
People generally don't pay enough attention to song lyrics, I've decided. Why that is, I don't understand. I mean, really, just read these lyrics from Brand New Colony by The Postal Service. Go on, read them:
I'll be the grapes fermented, bottled and
served with the table set in my finest suit
like a perfect gentleman.
I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the
ancient brick where you will sit
and contemplate your day.
I'll be the waterwings that save you if you
start drowning in an open tab when your
judgment's on the brink.
I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
albums back as you're lying there, drifting off
to sleep... Drifting off to sleep...
I'll be the platform shoes; undo what heredity's done to you:
you won't have to strain to look into my eyes.
I'll be your winter coat, buttoned and zipped
straight to the throat with the collar up so
you won't catch a cold.
I want to take you far from the cynics in this town
and kiss you on the mouth.
We'll cut our bodies free from the tethers of
this scene, start a brand new colony.
Where everything will change, we'll give
ourselves new names. Identities erased.
The sun will heat the grounds, under our bare
feet in this brand new colony.
Brand new colony...
Everything will change.
Everything will change.
Everything will change.