Patience the Trailer, in better hands
Nov. 2nd, 2009 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
If you see a guy riding a bike pulling Patience the Trailer around Brookline and Boston, it's not me, and it's not a thief! I have passed the trailer along to my neighbor Pat, who is trying to live car-free. Since my life is admittedly quite car-full these days, it's only fitting that Pat has the trailer now.
The other day I met Alexis up at The 200 Foot Garden where she was finishing up some work. She told me that our neighbor Patrick (who came up with the 200 Foot Garden idea) needed a bike trailer and suggested we give him ours. The rest of the story follows in this chunk of text from the email I sent Pat today:
You probably noticed the stunned horror on my face when I walked up and found out Alexis offered you the trailer. I originally got it in the early nineties, dragging it from Allston to Arlington to work a morning shift at a bakery cafe, pulling it in countless Critical Mass rides, and using it to distribute hundreds of copies of my comic book. At one point the whole rig, bike and trailer were stolen off my porch in Allston--there was no question that I was going to replace it. In 1998 my first wife and I moved to San Francisco for a few months, and Patience the Trailer came with. The trailer outlived that marriage and eventually, I suppose, its own usefulness to me (the trailer not the marriage.) I've considered bringing it to work with me, to use on days when my coworkers and I are all trying to share the same broken golf cart (zoos ride on the backs of their golf carts you know).
But I think it deserves a better life, with you. It was becoming neglected, and as Alexis said, we hadn't used it in a very long time. I've been thinking about what it means to me ever since that day she offered it. I realized that the thing that bothered me the most is that it is an object which I feel defines my personality. But there are at least two problems with that idea: First, no object defines a person's personality, the person does that themselves. I should have the same personality no matter what things I own and use. And second, it was defining a part of my personality (bike commuter) which is no longer true. The issue comes up right as some dear friends moved away and I saw them struggling under the burden of their things, and I desperately want to be free of them. I just thought that Patience the Trailer would be one of the last things I would divest myself of. But now I see it should be one of the first, and that frees me up to let go of so much more.
The other day I met Alexis up at The 200 Foot Garden where she was finishing up some work. She told me that our neighbor Patrick (who came up with the 200 Foot Garden idea) needed a bike trailer and suggested we give him ours. The rest of the story follows in this chunk of text from the email I sent Pat today:
You probably noticed the stunned horror on my face when I walked up and found out Alexis offered you the trailer. I originally got it in the early nineties, dragging it from Allston to Arlington to work a morning shift at a bakery cafe, pulling it in countless Critical Mass rides, and using it to distribute hundreds of copies of my comic book. At one point the whole rig, bike and trailer were stolen off my porch in Allston--there was no question that I was going to replace it. In 1998 my first wife and I moved to San Francisco for a few months, and Patience the Trailer came with. The trailer outlived that marriage and eventually, I suppose, its own usefulness to me (the trailer not the marriage.) I've considered bringing it to work with me, to use on days when my coworkers and I are all trying to share the same broken golf cart (zoos ride on the backs of their golf carts you know).
But I think it deserves a better life, with you. It was becoming neglected, and as Alexis said, we hadn't used it in a very long time. I've been thinking about what it means to me ever since that day she offered it. I realized that the thing that bothered me the most is that it is an object which I feel defines my personality. But there are at least two problems with that idea: First, no object defines a person's personality, the person does that themselves. I should have the same personality no matter what things I own and use. And second, it was defining a part of my personality (bike commuter) which is no longer true. The issue comes up right as some dear friends moved away and I saw them struggling under the burden of their things, and I desperately want to be free of them. I just thought that Patience the Trailer would be one of the last things I would divest myself of. But now I see it should be one of the first, and that frees me up to let go of so much more.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-03 03:08 am (UTC)I sold my Jeep last week, which was tough. It was the car I've wanted since I was a kid and I saved for a long time to be able to walk up and pay cash for it. Still, once the sale was done, it just felt right. It was time.
In Hawaii, I intend to be a uni-commuter. At least mostly.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-03 04:57 am (UTC)