To bring the thread back around to cycling I must concentrate my vision on the days immediately after I saw the "fire that does not consume" in Chicago in 1992 or so. I was in a quasi-public space and was tapped by the Italian Mafia as first in Chicago, not as a gangster, but as simply first over all I see, having no superior authority to contend with. I found out in 1987 that my blood is Roman, making me eligible, and I became known to inner circles in the East in 1985 or so as one of some note. My big break was being attacked in Santa Cruz, CA in 1981 by several young men in the street at night. I roundly defeated them defensively and an onlooker stepped forward to shake my hand and welcome me to the city. I believe that is when humans started to map my journey.

So since 1992 or so I have been first. I have used it to establish myself professionally, which is hard to do when your stardard has to be in keeping with being at the top with no money to speak of. I am not a gangster and I don't direct gang activities. I serve primarily as a focus of interest and example.

So then came 2002. One day I learned that my ability, learned from my days as a performer, to keep a broad, bright smile in public is considerably needed by everyone. I got on a bus to go to do some business down town and made my smile the whole way. I had done this the previous day on the elevated train and someone noticed me and knew something about it and took up a continuous litany for all to hear stating that someone was going to be sorry because someone (myself, pretty obviously) had made it and would be weilding some heavy social machinery soon. He kept it up for my whole trip. But on the day of note I got on a bus and smiled widely all the way, got out at my stop, did my business, and waited for a bus home. Then all of a sudden a parade of weird custom bicycles came winding down the street, and I mean weird--some tall, some reclining, a lot with unnusual things welded on. There I was smiling widely, very widely, on the sidewalk watching the parade, when one of the paraders saw me and shouted, "I found the king!" This marked the end of my being just "First in Chicago" and now being a king. I knew kings in the United States existed because in my travels, walking through the Yale Law School in New Haven, CT, (my first BA was taken at Yale) when I was homeless, I read a notice stating that there are about 550 monarchies in the United States and there was going to be a seminar or something about them at the law school.

Bicycle story in the end, that's what it is at this point. I have an audience in the custom bicycle world for weird machines. (There's a name for this type of cycle but I don't remember it. I read about them earlier in a local paper.)

Like my audience of three people in my earlier story in Santee, CA, the one man who shouted out in the bicycle parade may be interested in finding out my story, or may be given comfort if the net affect of ricosheting cause and effect reaches him one way or another. I am thankful that he received me in that way. If I could do him some favor large or small I certainly would if it were in my power. All these people inspire me to think that there is a cadre of knowing people in the world. It gives me some measure of confidence to advance as a human being, and to advance the lot of human beings.

I am coming close to the start up of my first website, which I hope will go a long way to bring me into closer harmony with the race. I will post here when that is achieved.