no wind, but chill.

My last sick day of the year was used on Monday and last night I was fortunate enough to see the "Pee Wee Herman Show" on Broadway so there has been no biking up to this morning.

I've only 50 pages left in Tender is the Night and I am enjoying it, probably more so than Paradise. Dick Diver's life is in decline so what started as a stuffy in-depth look at the bourgeoisie is now from the point of view of a man whose life is coming apart.

While it is frosty outside the weather has a habit of overselling the wind chill factor, which from now on I will ignore. Wind speed and gusts are important but the wind chill is an unnecessary measurement. It was surprisingly calm as I was on the highway this morning.

Which brings me to my appearance.

If you were on/along the Westside Highway this morning and saw a gray sweat-shirted and sweat-panted human on a bike, with what-looked-liked a sitting donut around his neck (under his shirt) while speaking basic Italian to himself, that was me. I had wrapped two scarves around my neck with one up to my lower lip (so it looked like a tumorous growth around my neck and I appeared to be a mid-color marshmallow).

If you were near a guy on the train listening too-loudly to that Lady Ga-ga song about "just dancing," then I don't know him and I don't want to. He's rude and has lousy taste.

My fingers were a little cold (as to be expected) and I wasn't wearing a tight-enough 2nd undershirt as I could feel drafts begin from little air pockets shooting up from my gloves. Today I am also wearing my thermals under my sweatpants for the first time ever (don't know why), which I'm sure helped. I was only slightly over-prepared today and that's fine.

I can take it -- I can handle it all -- anything you throw at me.

Thank you for reading.