About some seriously bad advice, something you should know, and just the same old same scam being foisted on us...
Some numbers stick in your head...
Like 999 on a sign telling me there were 999 miles to go to get back home in Los Angeles on a manic solo drive from Alaska after climbing what was then known as Mt McKinley...
Or the number 2 because that was the number on a ping pong ball attached to my birthdate when the draft lottery finally got around to doing its thing.
Then there's that number 60 (hopefully to be followed by 61)... A number both depressing and liberating at the same time and not, to my great surprise, the dire wasteland I expected it to be.
Today it's 2000...
Sort of a WTF number if there ever was one and, to be honest, I can't imagine how I've managed to find myself sitting here writing the 2000th post on Boat Bits...
Beats 2 all to hell.
Listening to Three Dog Night (who knew a thing or two about numbers)
So it goes...
Why Bikes?
1 week ago
