Bicycles

Before making a living as a composer, I worked for a year as a bicycle messenger. My day typically involved receiving a number of packages, delivering them to their destinations, and then returning to the office to wait for more.

There were a few times I forgot to lock my bike to a pole at the entrance of a 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, 30 feet below. I chased after him and caught up. He turned to me, yelling, "Well, what the f--k are you gonna do about it?" Then he walked away. He was right.

I returned to the office, and a fellow employee helped me retrieve the bike from the busy highway.