I have, over the last week, consulted acquaintances, loved ones, colleagues and strangers, both devout cyclists and the bikeless rabble, and have at last come to a decision.
This moniker is not mine, alas, it is the brain child of one Scott Waters, fellow Reverent Cyclist, and a clever sort to boot.
(Actually, cyclist is a bit of an understatement. Cycling machine as I discovered earlier this year, when I foolishly thought I might match his speed on a pilgrimage up to York University. We were off to see the beloved Shannon Gerard deliver her masters thesis on autobiographical comics.) It was quite the journey. We ended up being a bit early, so took a shortcut through a park (or something) with a river. Though arriving at said river, it ended up the ruddy thing had flooded with the rains of the night before. Not wanting to backtrack, we ended up taking off our shoes and portaging the bikes across.
That's right. PORTAGED. BIKE PORTAGING. I had Totally forgotten about that 'til just now. Glee!!!
Of course, I can't throw to save my life, and one of my boots ended up IN the river before we made it across, and Gods only know what Shan's adjudicators thought, as I took it off upon our arrival so that my sock could dry while they determined the course of the rest of Shan's academic life.
But I digress.
The Perfect name for my bicycle.
DB stands of course for Drop Bars, which are by far the most excitement my bicycle has had since getting stolen and then re-appropriated in 2005.
The D will serve a dual purpose though, standing also for Dervish, which refers (only modestly, you understand) to the constant state (so help me Gods) of my brain.
And the & part (as pointed out by Mister Waters) allows me to leave my options open.
Dervish B. Ampersand.
(slurp) christened with a cup of tea at 7.19pm, this Thursday eve in February, 2007.