Cycle Beats

Forgive me but it was another road trip with Tripp.  This one, a short trip via the time warp and we found ourselves in the Westchester edition of Equinox spin class.  An unusual set up, 3 rows of 6 bikes on each side facing other with a small aisle for Tripp to do his fandango. It looked like the March of the Wooden Soldiers facing off against each other.

At first I had to contain myself energetically and I couldn’t explain why.  I was for all intents, riding with strangers and they probably would not be accustomed to a boisterous Long Islander like yours truly.  I gathered my emotions and pushed the effort, as is my wont when the trance inducer, Svengali rolls in his inimitable style. What I have been noticing of late is that the hour is just not long enough, because I am enjoying this addiction way too much. I ride to write and I write to ride.   

What is nascent to me at this moment is that Frank Doherty, yes that’s his Christian name is starting to become like Almond Joy, indescribably delicious without the calories and sugar spike.  The word master in me is starting to realize that describing Tripp is getting more difficult because it is what he doesn’t say that carries the most meaning for me. Today I noticed that little trademark he does with his right index finger, as if he is writing his signature in air, putting an exclamation point on the end of a sentence. A truly eccentric and charismatic man this Tripp Doherty our Svengali. Or the artist formerly known as Mr. Mayhem.