August 10, 2010

Fanciful Excuses.

As mentioned in my last post, I seem to have a knack for casually forgetting the positive spirit boosts regular exercise renders for me. I have been known to think up some pretty fanciful excuses to justify such indolence. But sincerely I doubt I am alone in this camp. In all honesty, one of my biggest hang ups with biking to and from work right now hangs on the fact that I do not have a properly functioning bag to carry my things.

Upon moving here instead of bringing my ever trustful, virtually indestructible, one-of-a-kind handcrafted R.E.Load messanger bag, I opted to bring a more versatile Lululemon messanger style bag. Big mistake. Lesson learned. Several months ago en route to work via bike, my Lululemon bag broke, ie: fell off my back in the middle of the street while I was crossing two lanes of on-coming traffic. (As a side note: while I love Lululemon athletic gear, this is their SECOND bag that has failed me, falling apart within 6 months of purchase after just normal wear and tear, incidentally they made good on the first sale - replacing the broken bag for me free of charge, but following the second bag failure, I have realized I should just stick with their clothes, and perhaps so should they!) The scene played out in slow motion for me.

I look back to confirm the whereabouts of my bag to find it lying listless in the middle of the traffic lane. I look up and realize the sheer volume of cars flowing at great speed towards me. I shudder when I realize my MacBook is trapped inside the bag. I awkwardly dismount my bike in a state of panic. I contemplate risking life and limb to run into traffic to save my bag, er computer. I do a double take of on-coming traffic. Oh f*ck. I decide to save myself and rush to the side walk on the other side of the street. My face grows flush and I feel a wellspring of tears building. Suddenly, someone shouts and I look behind to see someone rushing into on-coming traffic, swooping down to gather my bag (and its unknown contents) all just in time to miss on-coming traffic and deliver the bag safely it into my hands. This whole incident makes me seriously rethink some of the widely accepted stereotypes about how untrustworthy the locals are, how they will steal the shirt off your back if given a chance, etc. Humanity and decency prevail, but the bag does not survive this incident.

On a recent trip to Morogoro, I was aimlessly wondering around and discovered a heaping pile of second hand bags from the United States. I was knee deep in bags, searching in earnest for a suitable replacement. I manage to dig something out of the pile that looks like it could serve my purposes. I negotiate a price of $5.30, cough over this modest amount and consider myself lucky. Until two weeks later the bag breaks and now there is a gushing hole leaving the bag partially open at all times.And so I am once again left with a fanciful excuse to not ride my bike regularly to and from work. Ug.

I recently discovered these Makr backpacks and I am lusting over them. Aren't they pretty and perfect? These handcrafted bags are made in small batches to ensure their quality and to not overproduce. But alas suffering from a bout of indecision over the price (as well as its durability given my track record...), I missed my chance to grab one of these. And since my R.E.Load bag remains in storage for the foreseeable future, my research for a replacement bag continues...

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