stop and hear the music

"In Washington DC , at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, a man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After about four minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule. About four minutes later, the violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk. At six minutes, a young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again. At ten minutes, a three-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception - forced their children to move on quickly. At forty-five minutes: The musician played continuously. Only six people stopped and listened for a short while. About twenty gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32. After one hour: He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all. No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music. This is a true story. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people’s priorities. This experiment raised several questions: In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? If so, do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context? One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made… How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?"

the washington post. thanks to the firepotter for sharing this.

puglsey love

Targhee Snow Bike 11-27-11 from Dave Byers on Vimeo.

i sent his article to the local nordic mafia and i could almost hear the panic attack happening on email. no tolerance what so ever. i have always had a crush on the original purple puglsey. finding a regular winter loop would prompt me to pull the trigger. cheaper than trying to build my own, for sure. thanks to the grand puba of fat at surly for turning me on to this article.

recipe

we don't get a recipe card with favorable experiences laid out with guarantees down to the last tsp. we have to make choices and live with them. some play out, like procrastinating on getting into that yoga class that turns out to be exactly what the body needed on that day. sometimes they don't, like the 8 mile pedal home when it's 38 degrees and raining and you forgot to pack anything that had any chance of keeping you warm or dry. both experiences are equal in that they leave lasting impressions, but also equal in that we will probably get to experience them, again. they are not singular.

the balance of the seasons. the days are short. the single track is a little harder to find, but all the trails are open. making choices on what to do with free time and trying to not feel obligated or guilty towards one particular discipline. i love to run year round. but, i love the fact that i don't have to if i don't want to. i prefer time with friends, outdoors, over a indoor henry lightcap run on the treadmill just so i can put a digital number in my training log. i don't own a picture of myself on treadmill, yet i have thousands of me playing outside. it's cool to have a beer and sit by the fire. a ski with your gal. a slow snowshoe walk with an vintage warrior of seasons past, who probably was a a lot like yourself back in the day and is just grateful for the chance to get outside again, safely. balance out your spirit with your mileage, so when you go to that place of focus, numbers and daily totals. you won't lose sight of why we really live the way we do.

in the meantime. bonne chance to those who have tickets to play the participation lottery at your favorite nationwide runcations. win or lose, have a beer and celebrate the dream of it all.