The day following my escapade I decided I should go to the hospital and make sure I was alright. I could hardly speak, and my body felt really tense. After work, I walked down to Beth-Israel Hospital and talked to the emergency room folks.

Always interesting in the hospitals is the other patients. While waiting for an x-ray to confirm I had no hidden spine/neck injuries, I met a guy who was in a bad place. He had come into Manhattan to go drinking with a friend (this was a Tuesday), but then he had a lot of pain in his leg. So he checked into the hospital, and his friend, who was drunk, abandoned him to return to Long Island.

The guy didn't drink today because he recently became a born again Christian: he had a book about the bible to prove it. About the bible. He also had black tears tattooed near his eyes, which I guess proves that he was born again. He started talking to me about how he needed money to get home on the train, and blah blah blah. I talked to him for a bit, but didn't give him any money. I soon after left the hospital, x-rays ensuring that I was fine.

This Saturday morning, I was walking to the Chinatown bus to go to Philadelphia, when who should I see but my born again Christian friend crying black tears. He walks up to me, "Hey man, I need ten dollars to take the China bus to Philly..." Familiarity drew me to talk to him, and when he noticed me looking towards him he kept talking, "Can you just help me out with a dollar or ..."

"Do you remember me?" I interruputed him.

"Huh?"

"We were in the hospital together. I got knocked off my bike."

"Oh yea, man. I just got out again, " he showed me signout papers from a different hospital. "And my girlfriend just kicked me out of my apartment, so I'm trying to take the China bus to philly to make some money with my friends this weekend and..."

I gave him a dollar. Pretty foolish, considering I now had proof that he was always asking for money to go places, but never getting anywhere.

song for download: hunter's moon by old hat

on a full moon night in october, betsy, deenah, preston and i met up at betsy's house for a night of music. this was our output. the only instruments are strings: preston on bass, deenah on mandolin, betsy on zither, myself on autoharp.

Monday I was biking home after work, to record with Matt and Dave for Cheese On Bread. Excited to head over there, I left work and got on my bike to fetch my guitar. Around 6 o'clock I was making good speed up the Williamsburg Bridge (I try to push myself when crossing the bridge to get better at it) when all of a sudden, I saw a figure in front of me. A figure who is striking me in the neck.

I flipped backwards off my bike, landed on my head and back. Still unaware of what was going on, I saw the guy leaning over. "To help me up," I thought. "To take my bike," I corrected myself. Then I grabbed at either his leg or my bike (I can't remember which now) and then let go, because I began to realize what was happening. Since I was being robbed, I figured he wanted my wallet, so I reached for my wallet, then noticed he was riding off into Manhattan.

The deed being done, I figured it's safe to stand up. And then I further realized that I was very out of breath from being hit in the neck and landing on my back. I lay down and catch my breath. Considering I was just clotheslined off my bicycle, I felt pretty good.

Apparently some other people thought I looked pretty good. A guy on a bicycle slowed down, looked down at me, said "Are you alright?" and kept riding on. Some other people thought I probably did not look so good, and they stopped their commute to call the police and talk to me. The man who attacked me was apparently 6' 2", though the people who described it to me could have been exaggerating.

After a couple minutes, some police officers arrived. Once it was clear that there were no serious injuries, the police officer said, "That's it? That's a welcome to Brooklyn."