The NoSe KnoWs

The Year was 1986. I heard the Beastie Boys Album License to ILL, and it was at that very moment that I decided that if them boys could Rap, I could Rap. So from 1986 till about 1998, I was a Rapper. Used to record music, worked with a Group, worked solo, made several "Albums" even made a Solo Album. I was and Am still pretty good. Even as the "art" form evolved I evolved with it and even became a pretty astute Freestyle Rapper.
Then, everybody got a rap. Then I lost a taste for the businesss when I learned that it was not how good you are, or even who you are, but who you know. I am still in touch with lots of the people I made music with. As in everything I do, I not only helped people and was extremely generous but I inspired people as well. My Rap Pseudonym you ask? It was The UnCanny K Roc (Kay Rock is the pronounciation).
How I got that nickname was pretty simple, K from my first name and Rock from what "rocking" the MIC, but the Uncanny part came from my friends. They used to say I was a MUTANT, because I had an keen sense of sight, smell and taste. What they could barely see I could spot well, what they could not smell I could smell a mile away, to this day I consider my sense of smell a gift and a curse.
Which leads me finally to the topic of todays Post. The clock went off awful early this A.M. I like to leave with plenty of time. Reason being I never know if I am going to get on the bike and decide to fart around instead of throw the Hammer. So as I am riding in I immediately notice that I left my GPS At work, damn will I remember the Route??? I also noticed 5 miles down the Road that I forgot a flat repair kit, well fingers crossed hope I dont flat. I decided Karma would be my flat repair kit today.
Pedal on I did. As I cruised along the first neighborhood I could smell a distinct odor of lavender? A bush? A Plant? Someone applying some in their bathroom>?? As I am cruising along, make my way to Starbucks and Score a drink and a sandwich, I continue on. As I cross the Road there is a big Diesel Pick up truck churning away, and I think to myself, "damn your truck smells like garbage" only to pedal another 1/4 mile and spot a Garbage Truck picking up waste.

As I get closer to my final Stretch of jagged technical road, I smell the hair products of the lady that just drove by, and the cologne of that guy that just drove by and the perfume of that one lady that just passed, Hmmm that one smelled kind of nice.

On I go, picking up various scents as people pass me on the road, wondering all the while, if other cyclist experience a ride like I do. Not only to I experience it by sight and by sound, but also by smell. Indeed.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN