Bicycles


Before making a living as a composer, I worked for a year as a bicycle messenger. Upon being given a number of packages, I would deliver them to their destinations and then return to the office to wait for more packages.

There were a few times that I would forget to lock the bicycle to a pole at the entrance of the building. On one of those days, a homeless man came along, hoisted the bicycle above his head and threw it into the 6-lane expressway which was 30 feet below. I chased after him and caught up. He turned to me and yelled, "Well, what the f--k are you gonna do about it?" Then he walked away.

He was right. I returned back to the office and a fellow employee and I retrieved the bike from the busy highway.
 

Michael Bross

Copyright 2008,
Michael Bross.
All rights reserved.

Frames Of Flesh And Spirit