Glenn Kubish

Today was the perfect day for a little bike trip along the downtown network in sunny Edmonton. I enjoy the view of the towers from the 105 Ave path near 110 St. I have long felt that bicycle riders, not sealed under roof and behind glass, have a special relationship with the road. Bicycle forks sing the rhythm of the road into the bones of the city rider. It's a kind of rock music. 105 Ave From 110 St, the bicycle rider can reflect on the passage of things as traffic streams by MacEwan University. The railroad used to be there.  110 St On 103 St, the trees are in photosynthesis overdrive. Street and trees and people. That's what cities are made of. Or, if streets are, as they are, unimaginable without trees, then cities are made of streets and people. Artifice and nature. Dirt, bark, leaf, concrete, asphalt, steel, glass, rebar, rubber, wood, brick, stucco, polyvinyl chloride, dreams, hopes, blood, bones. And good dogs.  103 St And people....

When I start out for workday lunch downtown, I am, invariably, kinda lost. For some reason (okay, advertising and the salt on the fries and my fascination with the Mayor McCheese mascot from my north-end youth) my first thought is McDonald's in Commerce Place. But, after all these years, I am now pretty good at tranquilizing those happy thoughts. And so, I wander by, looking and remembering and weighing. I remember that that place over there never has the salad rolls they say they have, and that other place across the way asks me mindlessly, every time, if I want a cookie with my individual pizza. As if I have ever once bought a cookie with my individual pizza. And, so, slightly agitated by the tickingtocking clock, I end up in Manulife Place in front of Zenari's. Like today, when I walked into the din and pointed to the remaining Reuben sandwich, smiled my transactional smile and forked over a $20 bill. I got my change and said my transactional thankyous and waited fo...