The Graveyard of Empire

When we were in high school, the cops would run us up out of anywhere we parked long enough to say hello. One place someone figured out we could sit around and not be bothered was a graveyard. I never found it so much spooky as just plain dumb.

Sitting around on the grass watching other kids smoke pot while eating potato chips. My god, it was painful. What else does one expect in high school? It is a painful time for everyone. Growing into our bodies and out of ourselves. Like arrows drawn back taut on the bow, we were ready to set forth into the world.

And we did. I landed two thousand miles west in Arizona.

Link dump.

13 hours at sea:
Eternal moonwalk:
Le Tour:
“This is harder than I thought”:
The Tour as training for Leadville:
I don’t train, I practice:

Shit man, make that shit work for ya. Know what I’m saying? Work smarter, not harder.


facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmailby feather

About big jonny

The man, the legend. The guy who started it all back in the Year of Our Lord Beer, 2000, with a couple of pages worth of idiotic ranting hardcoded on some random porn site that would host anything you uploaded, a book called HTML for Dummies (which was completely appropriate), a bad attitude (which hasn’t much changed), and a Dell desktop running Win95 with 64 mgs of ram and a six gig hard drive. Those were the days. Then he went to law school. Go figure. Flagstaff, Arizona, USA

4 thoughts on “The Graveyard of Empire

  1. My friends and I used to play BB gun tag in the graveyard down the street from our neighborhood. One gun… ten stoned teenagers… when you got hit you were it… I still have a BB embedded right above my left kneecap. Ahhhh, good times, good times.

  2. Eternal moonwalk 3023. I wasted 9 minutes watching until I saw a reference to bicycling, and yes it was dirt. Late for work, but life has it’s compromises that make it worth living.

  3. true dat. i used to sleep in graveyards when solo bike touring – flat, grassy, quiet………no one else was much keen on it. dumps are great places to camp too – you can throw your trash anywhere & no one cares & start fires. shoot, too. i remember being assigned to teach Big Johnny – AKA “Salsa J.” at the time – to wrench on bikes, oohhhh……about 15++ yrs ago. he even had dreads then……..we even roomed together for awhile, my most vivid memory of which was of him giving me a mohawk over our garbage can which REEKED. good times! Steve Garro, Coconino Cycles.