A rare and beautiful thing...

From Bikesnob:\

"Years ago, as I swept the sidewalk in front of a local store on a sweltering summer day (not pro bono, mind you--I actually worked in the store), I gazed up at the hazy sky and contemplated my lot. Just then, a co-worker about four times my age stepped outside to have a cigarette and joined me. He leaned against a parking meter or something, regarded me meaningfully, wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "these are the dog days."

Indeed they were, and indeed they are. I still hear his voice on days like today, when it's hot, it's been hot for awhile, and people seem to have only two modes--moving slowly, and fighting with each-other. I certainly heard it yesterday during my commute. It actually compelled me to stop on a Chinatown sidewalk, cool down, observe the street scenes I usually just ride past, and once again contemplate my lot. Unfortunately, though, my contemplations were drowned out by the sounds of a nearby homeless man engaging in his morning expectorations, so I just got back on my bike and started riding again lest I be forced to witness his blackened lung actually emerging from his mouth like a balloon covered in seaweed."