Category: Living

Living by Joe Wilcox
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My Vintage Bike

For my birthday, I bought a classic Guerciotti bicycle—from the 1980s, I believe. I sold my Masi Speciale Fixed to buy this beauty. I will truly miss Masi, but she goes to an owner who like me needs a smaller frame (51cm). I move up from a fixed-speed to gears, which suits my plans to ride lots more, lots farther. I wanted a lightweight, quality bike that offers much while looking less attractive to casual thieves, and the decades-old Italian road bike was available from a shop selling used roadsters.

I searched first for a 1970s Schwinn Super Le Lour II or Paramount but those coming on Craigslist were too large. The Guerciotti frame, with Corsa 487 tubing, is 53cm. That’s a tad larger than I should ride but nevertheless manageable. 

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Living by Joe Wilcox
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I Cut the Cord

The apartment was strangely silent last night and darker than usual. Gone was the flickering light filling the center room as one of us scanned the program guide. A year later than planned, we dismantled the TV shrine and took back the living room from the false idol. Henceforth, we will worship at a different altar. Finally, I cut cable’s cord—IPTV, really, but we all call it the other, eh?

I feel anxiety and elation at the dramatic change, which allowed us to rearrange the furniture such that the living room is more open, more inviting, and more suited to entertaining real people. The television now resides in the bedroom, more for the benefit of my wife’s sleepless nights (the thing is narcotic). We’ll stream from Amazon Prime, Hulu, and Netflix primarily—haha, maybe even iTunes. I had planned Google Play by way of Nexus Q, but the search giant nixes that option.

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Critters by Joe Wilcox
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So Long, Lou Lou

At one time, our little corner of San Diego had two neighborhood cats, Maine Coon Kuma and black beauty, with speck of white, Lou Lou. They lived in the same apartment complex, separated by one door, and sauntered about and inside each other’s alcove; we and Lou Lou’s owners always left a door open for our indoor-outdoor felines.

Lou Lou tolerated Kuma, at whom she hissed devilishly whenever he approached, swatting as her head pulled back. He never attacked, though, merely invaded her space. Kuma was a gentle giant.

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Critters by Joe Wilcox
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Abducted by UFO Cats

In the days after Kuma disappeared on Jan. 15, 2012, I often said to neighbors: “He disappeared like abducted by aliens”. One minute the cat was there, then he was gone. We’re now reasonably sure that coyotes abducted Kuma, whose collar city workers miraculously found deep in a canyon not far from our apartment (fifteen days later).

Out of nowhere, my wife made similar yet very different connection this morning. She likes to think that a UFO took our cat, and that two earlier one-day disappearances were abductions preparing him for the final trip. She doesn’t really believe aliens took Kuma, but it comforts her to think he might be alive somewhere else having grand adventures.

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Society by Joe Wilcox
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Free Pussy Riot!

Punk rock roared across the globe as I started college in the late 1970s. Punkers protested their disco-loving, Baby Boomer siblings as much as “The Man”. UK punkers tapped into deep frustration among a younger population struggling for identity and future in face of global economic uncertainty.

Punk music then is much different than now. Then it was a lifestyle choice rooted in rebellion. Today, for bands like Green Day, punk, and all its garnishments, is fashionable. Mascara, colored hair, and tattoos are about fitting in to a larger, accepted social group. The real energy behind bands like the Sex Pistols is gone.

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