Obstructionist Art

Keri from Commute Orlando once wrote about moving garbage cans out of the bike lane. I once wrote about moving a crippled car into a bike lane. Lots of people rant and rave about bike lanes being blocked by cars and delivery trucks and pedestrians and so on. When I come across a bike lane obstruction, I usually just go around it. No big deal, you know? Like anyone who's into swallowing weird stuff can can tell you, obstructions happen.

I recently came across a beautiful and fantastic obstruction that transcended the mundane presence of cars or trash cans in the bike lane:

click image to enlarge

Now, a piano in the bike lane is remarkable in and of itself, but when I started taking pictures, I discovered that this particular bike lane obstruction (and some of my photos) included several elements that turned it into an imaginative treasure trove...

click above images to enlarge

There is just so much to work with here that I am paralyzed. I mean, this stuff has the potential for an almost infinite number of back-stories or at least sarcastic observations. When something can be interpreted in so many ways, I think it approaches the lofty status of Art; let us name it Obstructionism.

You know how sometimes people post a picture and say "caption this picture"? Well, while my readers are few, I believe they have the chops to do much more than write a clever caption. If you are so inclined, please feel free to write a story or posit a theory based on any or all of these images... I started to try, but was so overwhelmed by the possibilities that I have come up with a contest instead.

Best story or theory or whatever (as judged by me) will be re-published in a new post, and as with my only other contest so far, I will send the winner $5 in Canadian Tire money! Just put your observations, theories, stories or whatever in the comments of this post. All submissions must be at least three words in length and become the sole property of Willie Nelson and Spiderman unless you want to republish them for real, in which case they remain yours. I'm willing to wait a pretty long time to get submissions, so let's end the contest on July 1, 2010.

Should there be no submissions, that's OK... I am confident that many of you will have cooked up some nice mental contexts and backdrops for what you have just seen, and that's good enough for me. Obstructionist Art, by definition, moves people (as they go around it) and does not demand anything more from the viewer. Neither will I, but, you know, if you feel the urge...

Thanks for visiting! Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K

Looking Back On Looking Out Back

As noted previously, I was away for the last several days. I went home to Thunder Bay to hang out with my Mother. The RANTWICK mothership is doing well, thank you, and we had a good time. I mostly drank beer and watched hockey in the evenings. Mom watched with me but skipped the beer part. In the daytime, we did various kinds of errand-y stuff and on one fine Sunday afternoon we went out to our cottage, walked on a big beach (because the water was low), tossed a stick for a dog and sat in the sun. One rantsister and one rantbrother joined us and it was really nice.

You know what else was nice? Flying. I get a little uptight when I travel, but I always love to fly in airplanes of just about any description. I am blessed, because I only fly every couple of years or so, so it stays kind of ever-new. I love take-off and I love landing. My landing in Thunder Bay was in super strong wind, and the small 80-ish passenger plane was getting kicked around quite a lot. People clapped when we were firmly on the ground. It was scary and fun. Our pilot earned his money that day for sure. My brother-in-law is a pilot, and I stole that "earned his money" thing from my younger sister, his wife, who commented on the wind when she picked me up at the airport. There's one other thing about flying that I really like. I get an inexplicable sense of happiness and/or satisfaction when I spot a golf course or a baseball diamond from the air. I don't why... that's why I used the word inexplicable a moment ago, I think.

Despite the fact that I just relayed such ultra-exciting details about what I've been up to lately, that wasn't the reason for writing this post. While Mom and I were buzzing around town, we swung by the house I grew up in. I noticed that subsequent owners had replaced a normal sized window on the back of the house with a nice new big one:

No stinkin' wonder. Look at what you can see from that window:

That, friends of mine, is known as the Sleeping Giant, because it resembles a man in repose on his back. I took that picture just before heading to the airport to leave town. This picture stinks because on some days the features of the Giant are really clear and he's way more interesting and "lifelike" and even seems much bigger.


Anyway, my Mom reminded me that when I was little I would ask to "Go to the Ships", which meant walk a block towards the lake (Lake Superior, for those who care) in order to get a better view of the big cargo ships that come and go all summer long in Thunder Bay Ontario, loading up on Canadian wheat and taking it all over the globe. Here's the view from that spot (no ships at that moment, sorry):



It is really too bad I didn't take pictures when it was just stunning the day before, but these give you the idea. Click on 'em for pretty big versions.


This post is mostly about the fact that as a child and for much of my youth I had something utterly beautiful just outside my back door, literally. A city spread out beneath the houses on the hill, houses that look out over the largest lake in the world and one of its mythical characters. Of course I didn't think about it that way because it was all I knew. In Southern Ontario, where I live now, a house anywhere near such a view would probably cost a couple million dollars. So, short version: wow, homesick, after 20 years. Crazy.

That's all I suppose. I guess I just wanted to mention that fit of nostalgia before it too became a fading memory. It is very likely that something bike-related will turn up here soon, I think.

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K