A Mad Biker's Ongoing Tale

Friday, September 28, 2001

My eternal thanks to all you armchair editors out there. One question: how come the real ones like Mitch didn't weigh in? Mitch, Mitch....... you're sleeping on the job! For those of you who don't know Mitch, the reveed one is an editor-without-peer for a major metropolitan Manhattan daily... who can bend steel in his bare hands, change the course of mighty rivers, and, who, disgused as Clark Kent, mild-mannered Burner within a great arid landscape, fights a neverending battle for truth, justice, and the American way! Whataguy!

posted by mark 9:28 PM

Thursday, September 27, 2001

Okay..... Are we on? This is Mark, who some 8 or so moons ago decided to christen myself the mad biker. It was a bitch tryin' to dunk myself in some celestial pool that could pass as a bone-a fide-ee baptizing tank. I searched high and low and finally decided to settle in the stagnant remains of what used to be a major Philly waterway, but now is no more than a fetid pond with the faint, almost teasing scent of urine. But hey, any port in a storm, huh? At least I had the consolation that some of those TastyKake wrappers floating by (note to non-Philly residents: You don't know what you're missin'!!!!) were not entirely empty. Yummmmm.... I mean, butterscotch tasties and a brand new name; it doesn't get any better than that.

I must admit right here and now that I was never really satisfied with the "MB" moniker. Ya know, for a self-described author and raconteur-at-large that was the best I could come up with?!? I mean, please. Frickin' Carrot-top is more verbose than that, for cryin' out loud! I felt a tinge of crisom-veined shame everytime I signed my "Burning Man" posts "Mark the Mad Biker" (note to non-Burners: get a life!).But salvation wasn't far away.... well, okay it WAS rather far. About 3,000 miles to be more precise. But you get my meaning, don'cha?

When I finally reached The Burn, a lovely, delicate young lass going by the cryptic name of The Yoga Goddess washed my festering feet in a hot, sensous, finger-lickin' good vat of essential oils and 7 original spices..... okay, it was warm water and some epson salts. But you get my meaning, don'cha???

The purpose of the ceremonial cleansing was to re-christian me "Legs." (I later played with the letters a tad). To be fair, it was a group effort from the Goddess' entire camp in naming and deciding to bathe the ol' tootsies. But it was the Goddess who descended on high to wrap her dainty fingers 'round my dust-encrusted lower extremities. And thus I have become - and shall ever remain - LeGs. Pretty cool, huh?

So here's I is in Santa Clara hangin' with the Durg (note to non-Durgyphiles..... ah, forget it.), lookin' for a job and a place of my own. And starting on my book. You know which one I mean - the one that stars all of you (!) as I describe the most amazing odyssey of my life. Now that I'm finally weblogging it, as it were, I'll keep you posted as ideas and far-fetched notions invade my gray matter and drive me onward to scale ever-more dizzying heights of physical, intellectual, emotional and spiritual grandeur.

Stay strong America - you kept me going! Maybe I can return the favor.

All smiles,
-Mark (LeGs)
cell:1-856-912-1276

posted by mark 10:22 PM