Blinkie Down!!!
I lost my favorite blinkie.
He was so very bright.
He fell right off my seat bag,
now I can’t ride at night.
He likely fell while speeding,
flying down some hill,
Gorge Road, or maybe Whitney,
and laying there, he’s still.
So if you see my blinkie,
and crushed he isn’t, yet,
then let me know in email.
My blinkie, I’ll come get!
Thank you.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.







August 17th, 2006 at 6:21 pm
I’d like to suggest the CatEye TL-LD1000 as your replacement.
http://www.cateye.com/en/products/viewProduct.php?modelId=41&catId=7&subCatId=4
Kick butt tail light!
August 18th, 2006 at 6:04 am
O! Sad lost Blinkie!
Power on, though I am now
without your red glow.
(An haiku por vous.)
August 18th, 2006 at 6:40 pm
I’d second the CatEye TL-LD1000 for its “I’m *here*” brightness. It runs for about 20+ hours on a pair of rechargable AAs.
I added a zip tie to further affix it on.
August 20th, 2006 at 8:56 am
Scout- Thanks for the Haiku, I knew you’d understand
Don and Jim, my order has been placed for the Cateye. I will make sure he’s properly secured before leaving home.
November 10th, 2006 at 7:53 pm
My blinkie tragedy of 2005, immortalized in various forms of poetry:
To the tune of “I left my heart in San Francisco”:
I lost my blinkie
On Second Av’nue
I hit a bump — it flew away
Then a city metro bus
Crunched it; let me cuss
It was cheap, it wasn’t rare
I don’t care!
My blinkie’s crushed
On Second Av’nue
I will mourn its loss, and heave a sigh
When I buy a new, replacement blinkie
The old will always shine in mem-o-ry!
—
A limerick:
On the way to downtown seattle
My blinkie had started to rattle
A flight it did take
But wound up a pancake
Mister gravity won the last battle
—
To the tune of “On Top of Spaghetti”)
In downtown Se-att-le
All covered with rain
I lost my poor blinkie
Now ain’t that a pain?
It fell off the rear rack
And onto the ground
And then a bus crushed it
It’ll never be found.
So farewell old blinkie
You served me so well.
But this always happens
With cheap crap from Bell.
—
Haiku:
Second Ave in Spring
Potholes and a metro bus
Death of a Blinkie
(A well-executed haiku is rooted in the physical world of our senses, yet suggests something deeper, often evoking the mysterious, transitory nature of all existence. By invoking the images of spring, of grey potholes perhaps filled with rain, and contrasting that the bright blinkie turning to shards of plastic, we are rewarded not just with the required kigo of haiku, but
its satori moment of the blinkie’s destruction. We are left with a feeling of melancholy, the shunshu of spring.)
November 11th, 2006 at 3:49 am