Just about a bike: Surly Moonlander

Click any image to embiggen

This is my Surly Moonlander. 

It is a first generation Moonlander, which Surly debuted in 2011, and discontinued in 2016.  This bike should not be confused in any way with Surly's new freaky-deaky ground-up redesigned 2025 Moonlander; they are two completely different bikes.

Actually, technically, this bike is not really mine.  It's a loaner from a good friend who moved away. He asked me, while I was helping him load the last of his family's stuff into their moving-truck, if I would be willing to keep it in my garage, on stand-by, for him to ride whenever he came back to town to visit.

Like I said, he's a good friend, so of course I agreed. Especially after he told me it would be fine with him if I rode it around whenever I cared to. 

In the years that it's been housed here at my place, of course, I have.  Many, many times.

Meantime, my friend, well, I'm happy to say he has been back to visit several times. 

Nonetheless, despite his repeated visits, he's ridden the bike just once... So...

Let's get a new tattoo!

It has long been said regarding semantics that “the word is not the thing,” the implication being that all language, both text and speech, can only attempt to represent ideas and feelings but cannot actually be the Real thoughts or sensations it describes.

In December 1996 I sat down to get my first tattoo, three small Hebrew letters (חֶסֶד = lovingkindness) on the ring finger of my left hand. It took the artist about five minutes to install it and cost me a grand total of $45, which I paid in cash.  I used the word, chesed (pronounced KHES-ed), as a framework for a part of my vows a few days later.  

And I meant it.  I know I was an imperfect partner at times.  But I really did try to live every implication of the word, as well as the indelibility of the deed, each day of my 28-year marriage.

Selected posts now streaming!

** selected posts now streaming **

I was a volunteer reader for Sunsounds of Arizona for several years. It was a favorite amongst my many unpaid retired-guy "gig" jobs. I was proud to be tasked with reading the Arizona Capitol Times (a non-partisan, weekly newspaper covering state politics and government) for their visually challenged listeners on a weekly basis. Sadly, administrative shake-ups within the organization last year made it untenable for me to continue to provide audio content to them.

As a classroom teacher for 20 years, I read aloud to my students each day, commonly following lunch recess, as a way to decompress and refocus our brains after the midday outdoor activity time.

Let's pretend that everything is fine.

[audio]

If ever I had an ego, it ceased-to-be in 2025, along with any inherent sense of pride in my accomplishments I might have once possessed.

But maybe what I'm actually talking about is self-esteem. Or could I be talking about my sense of self-worth?  I don't know. Took my last psychology class half-a-lifetime ago, so I'm not really sure. Also, I haven't seen my therapist in a while (It's time; going to see her on Tuesday). Thus, for today, I'm doing my own stunts when it comes to dredging the definitions and depths of these terms.

Holidays and bitter anniversaries have me feeling pretty shitty these days. Devastated. Sad. Unlovable. Humiliated. Lonely. Unwanted. Without value. Aimless. Why?  My wife left me.  A year ago.  Told me she didn't love me any more.  Moved out of our house.  Walked away from me, our home, our entire extended family, all of our pets, and every single one of our family photos, to say nothing of the many happy memories and moments contained therein. 

Ghosted. All of it.

Let's redecorate the living room!

It was just about a year ago when my now ex-wife revealed the first of many reasons she had for needing to leave me (ultimately there were more than 20; I kept a list). In October 2024, about two weeks before she actually got around to telling me that she didn't love me anymore and was moving out, she told me that it was deeply upsetting to her that “everywhere I look around here, I just see your shit. Especially the garage!  Oh my god, you have completely taken over the garage!"  

True, I'll admit, but only to a point.  Lots of bikes and skis, workbenches and tools out there.  Hard to be a bike rider without owning a few bikes, or a skier without a quiver of skis...

Let's get a divorce.

Divorce is a world of suck best avoided. 

Divorce is a towering rogue wave poised ready to rend asunder half a lifetime's promises, hopes, and dreams.

Divorce is a muddled muttered mantra of repeated regret.  

Divorce is a long dark road in the middle of nowhere, inevitably heading somewhere, albeit only god-knows-where. 

Divorce is an explosion of great magnitude, sufficient to result in the utter destruction of all familiar things, leaving only charred shattered remnants and thoroughly annihilated particles in its aftermath.

Divorce is unabated disquiet.

Divorce is interminable disbelief.

Divorce is an unnatural disaster.

Let's go to France!

I went to Paris, France, for a post-divorce adventure in July 2025.  Visiting Paris has been a "bucket-list" item of mine for a very long time. Given the sad situation I found myself in in January, suddenly all alone, planning and accomplishing this trip solo came to mean a lot to me.

I'm pleased to report, I had a truly amazing time!  

Aside from one breakdown on the RER-B train on my way into the city from the airport, which required me to navigate the massive Gare du Nord train station unrehearsed in order to find an alternative route to my hotel, everything went super smoothly travel-wise. 

I met lots of good people, ate tons of good food, drank gallons of great wine, and visited innumerable amazing places.  The things one does while visiting that ancient, complicated, beautiful city.

While I was there, wandering around the city by day on a janky rental bike, and each night via the Métro, I took a lot of pictures and thought a lot of thoughts.  I posted several of them to my Instagram.  

They're embedded in chronological order below.