This Old World Keeps Spinning 'Round.

I like moments. At one point I lived my life in search of moments. The kinds of moments I like are the moments where I have a mainline right from my center of my being to the infinite divine. Christians would call it a state of grace. Buddhists would call it enlightenment. I call them moments.
I've just come home from one of these beautiful moments, and I managed to make it last for quite a while, which is awesome.
Here's what happened.
I was out on my longboard, trying to get the hang of a few of the more advanced techniques. After I got sick of practicing, I decided to enjoy a nice slow carve along the freshly paved road I was on. The street had a nice gentle grade to it, that allowed me to basically maintain speed for close to half a kilometer or so...no acceleration or deceleration, just a perfect cruise.
Above me the sky was absolutely clear and stars were out in all their glory. Stars get me every time. If I'm out walking at night, I have my head craned way back and my jaw dropped wide open and I stumble around staring up.
I basically assumed that same position tonight, rolling effortlessly down this gentle slope.
Boarding is a beautiful feeling. It's a mixture of near weightlessness and barely controlled momentum. An almost gyroscopic feeling of balance and motion and gravity if that makes any sense. So there I was, rolling along with this weightless sense of motion, staring up at the stars, which of course are far enough away to appear motionless. Watching their stillness, focused on stationary points in the sky I had this moment where it seemed that I was motionless as well. It wasn't my board and I cruising down the road, but more a matter of the road and the street and the city and the world rolling under us. Instant state of cosmic grace!
Driving home later I had the top down in the convertible, still enjoying the stars, still enjoying the sense that it was the world moving and I was a fixed point in space. Then I discovered a new favorite thing, and you can try this too!
My little convertible is old school, a 5 speed manual with power nothing. I came to the top of a small hill and at about 60k I popped the car into neutral, turned off the lights and the ignition and rolled quietly down for a block or so. Let me tell you people...that is fun.
Good night.

My heroes have always been cowboys.

Ronnie Biggs is being released from prison today on compassionate grounds. For those of you that don't know, and I'm assuming that's most everybody, Ronnie Biggs was one of the gang responsible for the Great Train Robbery.
He was one of my Dad's heroes, which by heredity made him one of my heroes. The news that he's dying is disturbing to me. I have trouble with mortality at the best of times, but when 'immortal' legends like Ronnie Biggs come to an end, I find it particularly disturbing.
Earlier this week Britain's last WW1 veteran passed away as well.
When I was kid we had vets like this come speak to us at our school. This passing represents the passing of an era, and for me it represents the beginning of the passing of a century. WW2 was just over a decade behind the Great War, Korea less than a decade after. Our living history, our heroes and outlaws are passing away at an alarming rate. But what I find even more alarming, is the distinct absence of new heroes and outlaws to replace them.