Glenn Kubish

Saturday morning coffee is a mug's game. Behind only, Do I get out of bed? and How did they possibly insert that old guy in the mirror?, the foggy question, Which coffee mug do I use? is the most important question of the grizzled day. I have a few favourites to hold onto. Picasso The Picasso cup reminds me of the day Shelagh told me about the flower in the Guernica painting. Was it, too, a casualty of the war, or was it the first sign of regeneration? Lincoln  This is a true mug mug. It comes from the Lincoln Memorial. Speaking of civil war. #coffeeoutside  I use this mug on Friday mornings when the Coffee Outside bicycle riding gang gets together to drink coffee outside and talk about bicycle riding. There is a certain circularity to our time together. The Sprocket Podcast sticker gives it some Portland charm. Wait, Wait! We were already out of the Chase Bank building in downtown Chicago after watching a live recording of the wonderful Wait, ...

Shelagh and I are just back from a quick trip to Portland where we were blown away by, take your pick, the bicycles, the transit system, the proud people, the beer, the coffee-houses, the nighttime rain, the bridges, the avocados, beer at Velo Cult, the Sprocket Podcast guys, Pok Pok, the kind bus drivers.  Here's a lookback.  We went to Portland to watch films at the Filmed By Bike festival at the Clinton Street Theater. And I had a chance to get up on stage and tell my own bicycle story. Here, along with actual period photos, it is. My first bicycle was a green, CCM Mustang. It was the 1970s, so that bike had everything you needed to turn the heads of the ladies. In second grade. It had a banana seat. Those high-rise handlebars. It had what we called in those days a sissy bar on the back. We would attach baseball cards with clothespins to the back of the frame so the spokes would deliver that motorized sound as we pedalled forward. Chasing sp...