What do you think?

Perhaps it’s no surprise then, that a dance contest is more my speed.

The Jamaica Plain vs Somerville Dance Off is organized annually as a fundraiser in support of the inspiring and impressive Girls Rock Boston, a summer program that empowers girls ages eight to seventeen to ROCK, while also growing as musicians, women, and individuals (video-link from Austin Girls Rock ’cause these ladies just blew me away, but you get the picture.)

This event is a bonafide competition with actual winners (2013-JP) and losers (2013-Somerville), but I’m not there to score one for my neighborhood, or even for myself. I go to win it for THE WORLD!!!

Kidding! (But no, not really.)

It’s not, exactly. As a kid in New Jersey, my family sometimes pinned notices about kittens (FREE!) to the local grocery store bulletin board. Summers, I hand wrote bubble-letter yard sale announcements on bright pink poster paper.

I’d claim flyering in the ‘burbs plays “rarely-visiting distant cousin” to the “endless house guest” of taking to the streets with packing tape, cracked box of pushpins secured with a rubber band, and slowly wrinkling stack of flyers tucked under an arm as one narrow-eyes a telephone pole, wondering how long a notice might stay before someone else covers it up, or rips it down . . .

This weekend, my partner and I flyered for his band’s upcoming show in Somerville. I’ve beat the streets fairly consistently since my days organizing the Boston NOW Feminist Culture Club (defunct) and Boston Knit-Out & Crochet festivals (re-imagined), also frequently flyering for my current job. So I had a few ropes to share with David: do’s and dont’s, whys and hows of this decidedly analog approach to getting out the word.

Phoebe’s flyering dos and don’ts
DO design your flyer to catch the eye and make good use of white space
DO include a call to action (i.e. “COME to our wicked-awesome dance party!”)
DO post wherever you find a dedicated board – check libraries, coffee shops, post offices, supermarkets, thrift stores, ice cream parlors, and realtors – and it’s polite to ask before posting if the pizza guy is staring you down while flipping his dough
DO use flyering as an opportunity to better get to know your neighborhood AND grab a treat while you’re out

DON’T cover up someone else’s flyer, if at all possible (DO exercise your Tetris skills and shift other flyers around -removing any that have expired – until everybody fits)
DON’T flyer near signs that read “post no bills,” especially if the flyer has your name and contact
DON’T flyer at colleges, universities, or city offices unless you’ve secured clearance -they patrol and your flyer might be removed immediately (what we-in-the-business call “wasted effort”)

Treats!

Our treat, while in Union Square, Somerville, was to finally get a taste of the popular new donuts I’d been hearing so much about. Lucky for us, there were none of the purported lines or long sold out pastries, and all of the clever flavors, cheerful, enthusiastic staff, and fluffy-buttery deliciousness. Yum!

Cambridge Mayor Henrietta Davis helps to kick things off at the Sweet Ride (photo courtesy Cambridge Bicycle Committee)

Between the riding, listening, and somewhat guilt-free gobbling of complimentary goodies provided by our hosts, I may not have found opportunity to snap photos even if I had bought along my reliable (and admittedly clunky) Canon. Glad I’m not the only person sweet on fond remembrance.

Cambridge Bikes is a Sweetheart (courtesy of Cambridge Bicycle Committee)

The photos featured here are borrowed courtesy of the fine planners/bike enthusiasts at Cambridge Bicycle Committee.

In addition to being so kind as to let me partake of their photos, I enjoyed that this well-organized tour of Cambridge was split into “sweet” and “savory” with brief, interesting lectures at several resting points.

Sweet or savory, bikes in all flavors (photo courtesy of Cambridge Bicycle Committee)

These gents could be on the bow tie ride (photo courtesy of Cambridge Bicycle Committee)

]]> http://wholeheartlocal.com/2013/06/04/sweet-ride-cambridge-2013/feed/ 0 librarytour Mayor Davis helps to kick things off at the start of the Sweet Ride Ride-specific Sweetheart Sweet or savory, bikes in all flavors These gents could be on the bowtie ride http://wholeheartlocal.com/2013/05/31/this-moment-near-the-northwest-laboratory-building/ http://wholeheartlocal.com/2013/05/31/this-moment-near-the-northwest-laboratory-building/#comments Fri, 31 May 2013 09:00:00 +0000 Phoebe http://wholeheartlocal.com/?p=1802 ]]>

With Soulemama.

This is what happens if I pick up my camera and just snap.

Eudora was clunky and eventually I transitioned to a version of Hotmail that bears little resemblance to the app I use today on my iPod Touch. (ring, ring. 1996 is calling, it says: an i-WHAT?) (blip, bloop. hey, 2013 texted. It said: surrender your antiquated email client!)

Things happened. And things happened. I grew into a “full-fledged adult” and I rolled my eyes and said: what’s this you say about a face book? I’m not in college anymore. I don’t want to be found. No thanks.

Oops. Fuzzy.

And things happened some more. I carefully ignored then fell victim to numerous web-based communication forms. I hoed my new digital world with a plastic rake.

One day I glanced up and realized the sheer number of people with whom I would no longer have contact without the advent of curious computer languages, (with their funny “<” and “;”), that somehow keep me better informed of new babies, passed on grandmothers, and the hilarious antics cats get up to, than a telephone ever did.

So thank you Internets for round-about bringing our friend, professional photographer Kristy Rowe of Moodeous Photography, to our door, all the way from Denver, Colorado. We shot some awesome pictures in the real-life world, though statistically the three of us were more likely to be separate and lonesome in our homes, serenading our computer mice clickety-clack while bench-pressing bottles of Dr. Pepper.

Third time’s the charm . . . wait, my subject is obscured!

Also, thank you cats.

This year, it rained pre-ride so a lot of folks didn’t come out. David and I had the curious experience of being outnumbered by family groups, toting or accompanied by little ‘uns.

We stood out: kidless in the community bike parade. I was also without a bike bell with which to ring in cheers from spectators along the route. Next year I will have to address one of those issues! ;^) (And by that I mean, the bell.)

Overexposed, but I kind of like it!

On my morning bike commute to work, I’ve noticed that my mind tends to operate in several modes. Usually: Morning Mind God of Destruction and Morning Mind Gratitude.

Morning Mind God of Destruction, as you can imagine, sounds something like this: Use your blinker! WHAT is WRONG with you? I can’t believe that other cyclist just did that -he’s definitely not long for this world. LMA buses are the worst. What am I doing with my life? The best thing about today will be when I can finally go back to bed. I will STARE you into submission! Hungry already.

Morning Mind Gratitude: Riding my bike through the woods every day, in a city, is magical. Hi. Hi! I love when drivers wave at me. It feels so satisfying to know what projects I’ll be tackling at work today. I wonder what’s for lunch. Should I stop at Whole Foods for some kombucha? I’m so lucky. I really should learn a blessing to direct at irate drivers so I can check that goal off my list. Hey, there’s that singing cyclist again!

What forms do your morning minds take?

You just have to love how people love to grow things that are a.) good to eat b.) beautiful.

This year, we watched the Wake Up the Earth parade from what we thought was the middle of the route (later, we learned differently.) My partner sipped his coffee and I fiddled with my camera, trying to appear invisible to an intensely compelling group of children-on-stilts and their cheerful parents. The tall crew had gathered and were waiting to join the parade from the end of Paul Gore Street, right in front of the Connelly Branch of the Boston Public Library.

We heard the drums first. Then the kids, most of whom had been walking in place so as to be prepared to join mid-stride, struck out.

My partner and I didn’t see it, but apparently this was repeated further along the route as three separate parades -each originating from and representing different neighborhoods of Jamaica Plain and Roxbury- merged into one then continued together down Lamartine Street, landing finally at the festival.