BSNYC Friday Fun Quiz!

First of all, I have important news that I'm a bit late in relaying, which is that you can go to Brooks's store in London and get yourself measured for a custom bicycle by custom bicycle customizer Dario Pegoretti:

The new Brooks B1866 shop in Seven Dials, London is proud to announce that it will be offering custom bicycles direct in­store from some of the most respected names in the handmade bicycle world. Dario Pegoretti, Ricky Feather, and Darren Crisp are already among those signed up to offer personal fittings directly inside the B1866 premises, meaning customers will not have to travel to the frame­builders’ studios, but be measured and fitted right in the heart of London.

B1866 is inviting customers to book their appointment now by contacting the store directly. Dario Pegoretti will be at the B1866 shop on the 31st January and 1st February, bringing along with him his latest creation, a collaboration with the new Brooks Cambium Saddle centered on the Italian espresso brand Goppion.

I mention all of this almost entirely as an excuse to post this picture of Dario Pegoretti, because it's awesome:

(Courtesy of Brooks)

If you're wondering what's going on in this photo, he's half-heartedly defending himself against the the deadly blade of Eric "The Chamferer" Murray:

They like to get into it after a few beers, and it's all fun and games before somebody loses a ponytail.

Also, speaking of Dario Pegoretti, this remains one of the greatest cycling interviews of all time:

The best part of all may be the thick-headed YouTube commenters who don't get it.

Meanwhile, in what should be major cycling news but isn't, the Campagnolo Gran Fondo New York (from which I've been banned) is suspiciously silent on the question of whether celebrity guest Stephen Roche will be tested at this year's event:

@granfondony I had a traumatic experience on New Year's day with someone in your jersey. Also, will Stephen Roche be tested?
— Bike Snob NYC (@bikesnobnyc) January 30, 2014

While they did reply to my reply, they didn't touch the Stephen Roche question, and it seems to me they have reason to be suspicious:

In March 2000 the Italian judge Franca Oliva published a report detailing the investigation into sports doctors including Conconi.[10] This official judicial investigation unequivocally found that Roche was administered EPO in 1993, his last year in the peloton.[11] Files part of the investigation allegedly detail a number of aliases for Roche including Rocchi, Rossi, Rocca, Roncati, Righi and Rossini.[12] In 2004 Judge Oliva again alleged that Roche had taken EPO during 1993 but due to the statute of limitations, neither Roche nor his team-mates at Carrera would be prosecuted.[13]

Sure, he's been retired for over 20 years, but it's only fair, right?  "Thanks so much for coming over for this, Mr. Roche.  Now would you please pee in this cup?"  Anyway, you'd think they'd be more careful after Fred-gate:

Also, they had this guy in 2011, and who knows what he was on at the time?

I mean really, is "Gran Fondo" Italian for "Drugs N' Freds" or what?

Obviously that's a rhetorical question.  It's totally Italian for "Drugs N' Freds."

Of course, some might consider paying hundreds of dollars to follow a doper around to be a piece of cycling heaven, though a reader tells me you can also buy cycling heaven on eBay in the form of used Rapha packaging:

It’s not a myth that Rapha products are forged by the goddesses and immortals.
Its super premium heavenly quality, followed with beauty, perfect form and millionaire’s price tags!!!

Here’s your chance to be as close to the royal club. This will motivate you to work harder, sell your soul and grab the second mortgage just to get the complete kit so you could look sexier than Ricky Martin on two wheels.

Do place your bid early because this will change your life and marriage. After all, this is Rapha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tell me something I don't know.  I've been putting Rapha tags on my Nashbar closeout shorts for years.

And now, I'm pleased to present you with a quiz.  As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer.  If you're right you'll know, and if you're wrong you'll see thrills, chills, and spills at the 2014 British National Cyclocross Championships.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and stay warm.  (Unless you already live somewhere warm, in which case screw you.)


--Wildcat Rock Machine

1) What is the purpose of the "Speed Up Bag?"

--To make you go faster
--To dry your hands without wasting paper
--To shred your documents while on the go
--Cat portaging

(He sees a cyclist, and he's thinking something.  But what?!?)

2) Fill in the blank:

"See cyclist.  Think _____."

--Person
--Neighbor
--Horse
--Douchebag

3) What reason does this person give for riding a Citi Bike in the winter?

--“We’re doing it for the look on people’s faces"
--"We're doing it because banks rule"
--"We're doing it to spite Dorothy Rabinowitz"
--"We're doing it for the p-u-s-s-y"

(It's too cold for this shit.)

4) This guy is cold and he's pissed off and he wants to stab Citi Bike guy to death with a snotsicle for his arrogant smugness.

--True
--False

(Mario Cipollini has the same slogan tattooed on his genitals.)

5) Pete Seeger on a classic Italian road bicycle clad in woolen jersey and shorts was a common sight in the hills around Beacon, NY.

--True
--False

6) What makes the $7,000 Specialized Crux Expert EVO Di2 a gravel bike?

--The wheelbase or something
--The head and seat tube angles or something
--Three pairs of bottle bosses and a little plastic box
--The decals

7) This tire failed prematurely because it was:

--Installed on a fixed-gear bicycle without brakes
--Installed on a non-gravel-specific bicycle and then ridden on gravel, leading to uneven wear
--Exposed to road salt
--Installed inside-out

***Special "Who-Knocked-Over-My-Motorcycle?"-Themed Bonus Video!"***

Have a happy (birthday) weekend!

Happy birthday to my twin sister Lucy! Eeps, it's a big one! We're old! Alex is actually throwing a party at our apartment tonight, and I'm so excited. We have about fifty boxes of Trader Joe's pigs-in-blankets in our freezer right now:) Anyway, hope you have a lovely weekend, and here are a few fun posts from around the web...

What it's like to hang out with Tina Fey and Jerry Seinfeld.

The questions that will save your relationship. Beautiful.

Awesome slippers for little dudes.

Love this Morse Code jewelry for Valentine's Day. ("Smooch"!)

Stockholm has a light-box café for winter months.

The search for absolute silence.

Scratch-off greeting cards.

Extra virgin suicide.

Seth Rogan made a Her parody.

Have you guys ever tried this? Does it work?

The truth behind Instagram feeds. Hilarious.

Love this new denim collection, especially the pencil skirt.

What a gorgeous art installation.

Have a great weekend! xoxo
(Photos of Lucy and me from our childhood)

Terrain giveaway

Today's giveaway is from Terrain, the beautiful home and garden shop based in Pennsylvania. The store is all about life's simple pleasures, from cooking to entertaining to gardening. Today, Terrain is offering one lucky reader a $200 gift certificate for gifts for yourself, your mom, your partner, whomever! What would you pick? (I'd go for this peony candle and pretty plants.)

See their full Valentine's Day gift guide here.

For a chance to win, please visit Terrain and leave a comment below with your favorite things from the store. A winner will be chosen at random tomorrow. Good luck! The winner has been emailed. Thanks for playing.

Bonus for all readers: Get free shipping with the code CUPOFJO, through this Sunday, February 2nd.

It's In The Bag: Getting Your Motivation Up

I'm not really into "trying," or "making an effort," or even "doing stuff."  For the most part, if you can't do it on the couch in your underpants then I'm not interested.  Still, that doesn't mean I don't have goals.  For example, one of my goals has always been to get banned from a Gran Fondo--and I'm pleased to announce that, without even trying, I've finally been banned from the Fredliest Fondo of them all:

.@bikesnobnyc our OOC testing is always on. But you are banned anyway after your recent degrading comment towards our riders. Ha!
— Gran Fondo New York (@granfondony) January 29, 2014

I can only assume the "recent degrading comment" was about the guy in the Gran Fondo New York jersey who made me pump up his tire for him on New Year's Day:

By the way, the first person to correctly answer a trivia question in the comments wins the signed original of the above masterpiece:

Gran Fondo TT Dork

Medium: Crayola

Artist: Wildcat Rock Machine

Value: Priceless

Are you ready?  Here's the trivia question.  Now remember, no cheating!

Okay, here goes:

Who is this?

Now simply answer the question in the comments.  However, like "Jeopardy," you have to respond with the correct format, otherwise it doesn't count.  Here is the template for answering the trivia question properly.  Simply fill in the blanks:

"My name or Internet alias is ______.  The correct answer to the question you posed in your blog post of January 30th, 2014 is: _______.  The 'captcha' I was required to furnish in order to leave this comment was _______.  My email address is _____ [at] _______ [dot] ___.  I understand that, upon proper submission of the correct answer, you will contact me directly in order to arrange shipping.  Dorothy Rabinowitz is a horny space reptile from the planet Pubis.  I like cheese."

Good luck!

By the way, the cyclist above (hint: it's Stephen Roche) is going to be riding in the aforementioned Gran Fondo this year:

So be sure to sign up, because even though a gazillion Freds will be competing for his attention, I'm sure he'll want to be best friends and riding buddies with you forever.

Of course, now that I've been banned from an event I had no intention of even registering for, I feel empty inside, and I also have precious little motivation to continue my winter training, which has been quite grueling.  It's paying off too, because if you look at my Strava account you'll see I'm easily among the top 40 or 50 riders in my ZIP code--though in fairness there should be an asterisk* next to that, since I did use a Speed Up Bag:

The above was forwarded to me by a reader, and I'm really upset the video doesn't seem to be working because this thing looks sublimely dorktacular.  And check out this data:

And this chart:

And this guy hanging out his ball bag while he's riding:

Of course, what the inventors don't tell you is the "Speed Up Bag" is simply a fairing--and while a fairing does make you faster, it's also illegal to use in bicycle racing, which means if you're using a fairing you're not racing and are simply trying to go a few seconds faster while you ride by yourself because you're a complete and utter weenie.

Nevertheless, I'd consider one if it functioned as a hand dryer, like the kind you find in the men's room:

("Ba-WOOSH!")

It's also great for the corpulent Fred who needs to "portage" six or seven salami sandwiches with him while he's riding, or for the person who misses the shape and convenience of the glove compartment in his Hyundai.

Anyway, it's worth noting that nine out of every ten cycling products you find on crowdsourcing websites are the products of closeted dorks who can't come to terms with the fact that they should be riding a recumbent.  Either it's some ridiculous toilet seat of a saddle because the inventor can't get through a metric century without losing use of his schlong for six weeks, or else it's some contraption to make the bike slightly faster that's ineligible for competition under every single sanctioning body in the world.

Look, if you're so concerned with aerodynamics over everything else, then don't dick around with a "Speed Up Bag."  Just get in the fucking thing already, shatter your "personal best," and leave the rest of us alone:

(Extra-large Speed Up Bag containing both rider and bicycle)

You could have ten or twenty salami sandwiches in that thing without even compromising your aerodynamics.

Anyway, generally it's at this point in the winter when riders start scraping the empty peanut butter jar for tiny dollops of motivation, and we see videos of people talking about how great winter riding is--or at least that's what we assume they're saying, because their speech is slurred by their frozen mouths:



They all make some good points, though my favorite thing about riding is the taste of the road salt dust that's kicked up into your face by all the motor vehicle traffic.

I actually do like the crunching sound of salt on the road while I'm riding though.  I find it very pleasant--though I'm not sure it technically qualifies as gravel.  I suppose I'd better measure the size of the granules, because if they fall within gravel specifications then I'll need a new bike.  Then, I may promote a gravel race that will compete with the Gran Fondo New York, which I'll call the "Dirty Sanchez."

Does anyone know if Speed Up Bags are legal in gravel racing?

Who's your celebrity crush?

The website Reddit sometimes hosts famous people for an hour and lets readers ask them anything. So far, Jerry Seinfeld and Bill Murray were great, and yesterday George Clooney showed up. And he was hilarious.

I loved Esquire's recent description of him:

He is fifty-two years old. He is wearing a black hoodie zipped to the neck, blue jeans, and boots laced so assertively they squeak when he flexes his ankles. He has a long neck, upon which his long head, adorned by long ears, wobbles like a tulip. Everything is to scale with him. Many people have long eyelashes; he has lashes as long on the bottom as they are on the top. His eyes look like they’ve been caught by Venus flytraps. He is going gray, yes, but if you took a population sample of his hair, there is no doubt that any analysis would reveal that the numbers of black and gray hairs are evenly distributed and have achieved equipoise. He has recently showered, and a careful modicum of product lifts his hair off his forehead. He has surprisingly fine hands. He smells like soap.

Clooney also plays pranks on his friends—he once hired a tailor to secretly take in the waistline of Matt Damon's pants by an eighth of an inch every few days. But for some reason, although every woman I know has a crush on Clooney, and while I'd love to be friends with him, I've never found him that attractive. (I think maybe he's just too cool; I like dorky side to my men:)

So I'm curious: Who's your celebrity crush these days? Clooney? It's one of life's important questions, of course.

P.S. My celebrity crush, and a trick for dating older people.

(Photo by Martin Schoeller)

Sexy flats

The other day, my friend was wearing these beautiful black flats. They looked cool with jeans, a sweater and a top knot, and made her whole outfit come together. Effortless with a bit of edge. (I also like the similar shoes here and here.) I'd love to wear these everyday once the weather warms up.

P.S. My other favorite shoes.

(Photo by Alpha Smoot for Cup of Jo)

I'm Wearing My Wednesday Face, But I'm Still In Monday's Pants.

(You better run, you fuckers.)

Yesterday I mentioned that some time ago the following happened:

...a woman drove into me from behind on Vanderbilt Avenue in Brooklyn on the pretense that she "didn't see me,"... 

Actually, that wasn't her excuse.  I'm just so used to hearing it I typed it automatically.  No, what she said to me after I gathered myself up off of the street, dragged myself to her, and asked her why she had hit me, was this: "I thought I could get around you."

Of course, that's not what she told the cops or the insurance company.  No, what she told them was that I rode into her.  Yes, that's right.  After hitting me from behind and then admitting to me that she saw me, tried to get around me, and failed, she simply told everyone else that I rode my bicycle into her car.

I was pretty livid when her insurance company told me this, but all they were really concerned about was whether or not I was wearing a helment.

I guess our only recourse is to ride around with cameras rolling at all times, which is highly depressing, but then again the world is a depressing place, so I guess it doesn't matter.

Anyway, this was a few years ago now, so I hope horrible things are happening to her, and I'd totally high-five Jesus if I learned she were dying.  She did have cankles like an elephant's so hopefully that points to something fatal.

Meanwhile, here in New York City, "Vision Zero" is really heating up, and police have gone from beating the crap out of jaywalkers to firing on drivers who fail to yield:

Though actually they didn't start shooting until the driver tried to run them over:

According to the NYPD, the officers followed Henry to Morris Park Avenue and Taylor Street, where he plowed his black Chrysler Town and Country up onto the sidewalk. When officers approached the vehicle a second time, Henry allegedly drove straight at them, so they opened fire at the vehicle. Henry sped off a second time, but then crashed into a telephone pole at Wyatt Street and Morris Park Avenue.

At which point the police found a crapload of drugs and charged the driver with the following:

Criminal Possession of Controlled Substances
Criminal Possession of Narcotics
Reckless Endangerment
Criminal Diversion of Prescription Drugs
Obstructing Governmental Administration
Criminal Nuisance
Vehicular Assault
Resisting Arrest
Leaving the Scene of an Accident Causing Injury
Assault
Criminal Possession of a Weapon
Operating a Motor Vehicle Impaired by Drugs
Aggravated Unlicensed Operator
Disorderly Conduct

Note "failure to yield to pedestrian" is not on the list.  In fact, the irony is that if the driver had simply run the pedestrian down in the first place and remained at the scene none of this would have happened.  Instead, the police would simply have declared "no criminality suspected" and sent him on his way.  I mean come on, that's New York City Getaway Car Driving 101!  As soon as the police spot you, mow down a pedestrian.  It's the second-best thing to having a smokescreen and an oil slick.

Speaking of misplaced faith in helments, reader, commenter, and bon viveur (or misanthrope, I'm honestly not sure) Paul Bowen tells me that a Scottish cycling PSA has been banned due to flagrant helmentless riding:

Cycling Scotland aired a TV campaign telling motorists to "treat a cyclist the way you treat a horse", and ending with a helmet-less female cyclist pedalling down the centre of a road.

What does that mean?  Ride them hard and put them away wet?  Then this:

The ad ended with the text: "See Cyclist. Think Horse."

Ha, ha, Scotland, we're one step ahead of you here in Canada's Underpants.  We've been treating horses and cyclists the same way for years:


Ultimately though, here's why they banned the advert(isement):

The Advertising Standards Authority received five complaints that the ad was irresponsible and harmful, because the cyclist had no safety gear at all and should have been travelling close to the kerb.

Well, using powerful Internet searching technology, I was able to find the ad, and it's actually pretty funny:

And yes, the cycling is wild and out of control, the rider boldly taunting death, her scarlet hair screaming "Kill me" to the grimmest of reapers:

I'd support a re-shoot of the PSA in which the cyclist wears a helment, just as long as they make the driver of the Mercedes wear one too, along with a flame-retardant suit, and they should also fit the Mercedes with a rollbar while they're at it.

Sad that even outside of America people are completely retardant when it comes to cycling, though there is a glimmer of hope in that riding Citi Bikes in arctic temperatures is now the new smugness:

Many who slog through the slush appear motivated, at least in part, by the respect afforded to them by fellow cyclists in the fierce conditions. Pictures of snowy Citi Bike rides across Manhattan and Brooklyn have peppered Facebook and Twitter all month, doubling as digital badges of honor.

“We’re doing it for the look on people’s faces,” said Joel Potischman, 45, from Boerum Hill, Brooklyn, who on Jan. 7 posted a picture of himself atop the Manhattan Bridge in 4-degree weather.

Oh, come on.  Who does he think he is, this guy?

Minnesota Guy doesn't even bother to put on pants for four degrees.

Lastly, Cadel Evans is "coming for pink:"

I really didn't need to know that.

Home tip: Disco ball!

My friend had a surprisingly brilliant idea for her house: Get a disco ball. It sounds random, but it creates such AMAZING light in her apartment during the day. She recommends putting it on the floor to get better light, and the whole room looks magical and ethereal. I'm excited to try one ourselves. Would you do it?

P.S. A NYC apartment tour, and a 500-square-foot San Francisco apartment.

(Photos and styling by Kendra Smoot)

Mushroom Risotto

This month, we're featuring delicious meals that you can make using a single dish. Today, Giulia from Audrey's is sharing her killer recipe for mushroom risotto with nutty Parmesan cheese. Here's how to whip it up...
Read More >

I like cheap bikes and I cannot lie.

"No two salads are alike."

--Pete Seeger

Like Pete Seeger, I live in a log cabin by the Hudson River.  Every morning, I wake up, split a bunch of logs with my Rivendell axe, and then I head down to the riverbank and practice my banjo or banjo-like thing:


My favorite part of that song is the gentle sound of falling rain.

I mean blood.  Because it's raining blood.

Scary.

Once I've completed my morning chores, I head upriver for some bicycle cycling.  Sometimes, if you stop and look at the city from the river's edge, you can imagine what it will look like in a thousand years when it's dead and empty--a crusty, brittle cold sore on the toxic mouth of the poisonous Hudson:

And yesterday was actually a "nice" day, with temperatures soaring way up into the mid-30s in American degrees:

Further upriver, I stopped to empty my bladder atop a steep slope, my back facing the icy waters below.  As I urinated, I imagined my Sidis losing their purchase upon the frozen soil, and I could clearly picture myself spraying urine wildly in all directions like a Willie Water Bug as I tumbled.

Then my eyes alighted upon my bicycling cycle, and as I voided myself I composed an epistle to it:

Dear Generic Blue Bicycle,

I bought your frame some years ago, used and very cheaply--cheaper in fact than your crabon fork, to which I "upgraded" for no good reason other than you're supposed to upgrade to a crabon fork and this one was on sale.

You have, in the time I've owned you, paid for yourself (including all your components) at least twice over, since I told an insurance company you were "totaled" after a woman drove into me from behind on Vanderbilt Avenue in Brooklyn on the pretense that she "didn't see me," and I over-estimated your value by at least a factor of ten.

Every time I ride you, I think of the fact that you are the only bicycle I've ever owned that actually made me money.  Even when I actually rode a bicycle for money as a messenger my bicycle never actually made me money, because it got stolen, and I'm fairly certain it was worth more than I ever earned in that occupation.  

Also when I ride you, I think about what a ridiculous, bro-tacular, fap-fap-fapping, mutually circular wankfest bicycle marketing and reviewing is.  First of all, you're made of aluminum, which means you're supposed to be "harsh," and "not durable," and other stuff like that--yet you probably ride more "smoothly" than any other bicycle I own, and you remain in fine fettle even after having multiple owners and flying around the country in a soft case and getting hit by a car.

You're also supposed to have a "flattened top tube for easier portaging," though somehow in years of cyclocross racing you never managed to sever my arm from my body while I was carrying you.  You don't have disc brakes, yet somehow you still manage to stop effectively in all weather.  You're supposed to be made of crabon, yet somehow you're still more or less as light as my bicycle made from crabon.  And you're supposed to have a "beefy" BB30 bottom bracket shell and an integrated headset--though the threaded bottom bracket shell and standard 1 1/8" headtube is, as far as I'm concerned, the very pinnacle of sporting bicycle frame "standards."

I have ridden you on pavement, I have ridden you on dirt, and I bet I could even ride you on gravel, if only I were foolhardy enough to ride on gravel surfaces without first purchasing a dedicated $7,000 gravel bike with an extra set of bottle bosses and a plastic accessory for carrying the CO2 I don't use anyway because they're stupid.

Most of all, you remind me of what a weenie I am, because there are at least three bikes I could sell and not miss because I have you, yet I persist on keeping them anyway because I'm lazy.

Boom Shanka,

--Wildcat Rock Machine

Yes, I wrote all of that with pee-pee in the snow, and if you hurry northward you still may be able to read my yellow words before spring arrives and they melt into the thirsty soil.

Oh, I just remembered another thing my cheap aluminum bicycle does (or, more accurately, doesn't do), and that's the "high-speed shimmy:"

Maybe if I had a more expensive bicycle I'd get to enjoy riding a bicycle that starts oscillating wildly once it hits Fred "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo" speed, and then I'd have an excuse to buy some wheels that have been built using a Japan Robotics wheel analyzer complete with 3-axis accelerometer:

We use a Japan Robotics wheel analyzer in our building process to determine the rotational balance of the wheel. It has a 3-axis accelerometer and provides a simple, digital graph output similar to an oscilloscope. The period of rotation may be changed as well as the scale of amplitude. Furthermore, the wheel position is noted in 0.1-degree increments, so we can ‘see’ where the periodic energy is affected (nulled, or maxed).

I'm just about the world's shittiest wheelbuilder, and I use a crappy plastic stand that looks like part of a children's toy, yet whenever I've put these wheels on my cheap aluminum bicycle and approached Fred "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo" speed I've never experienced shimmy.  In fact, the only time I've ever experienced it was when I was younger and stupider and way too caught up in bike racing, and I was using tubulars ostensibly for the performance benefits but really as an affectation.  Anyway, I did experience speed wobble with my tubular wheels once, but I'm pretty sure it's because the tires were lumpy and I mounted them all crooked like an idiot.

Speaking of the inverse relationship between cost and performance, I just saw this on Twitter:

I talked to [redacted] and [redacted] in regards to this Shiv.  The way our warranty policy is written a break resulting from trainer use would be considered an outside force.  With that said it is not explicitly written in the warranty policy and there are no trainer warnings on the bike.

We all know how horrible this news is to deliver to a customer.  [Redacted] will get you rolling with a goodwill frame replacement.  Can you let us know what trainer the customer was using so we can relay that to our Quality Control team?

Thanks,

So, to recap:

Specialized Shiv, "the ultimate Tri weapon," retails for up to $11,000:

Yet evidently you shouldn't use it on a trainer, because that's an "outside force."

My guess is soon we'll see a new proprietary $1,500 Shiv-specific trainer from Specialized that will be the only one that doesn't void your warranty.

However, in fairness to Specialized, it looks like they did replace the frame anyway.  I'm also amazed they offer any warranty at all on a bicycle that's ridden by triathletes, considering their renowned bike-handling skills, as evidenced by this video which I'm re-posting because I feel like it:



It looks as though the driver may not have signaled the turn, but either way, come on.

"How long have I got left?"

Last May, my brother-in-law, Paul, who has a deep gentleness and a keen sense of humor, found out that he had incurable lung cancer. Out of nowhere, he was facing death. He was 36 and had always been healthy. Our family was floored.

This week, he wrote a beautiful essay for the New York Times about what the experience has been like. At first, he thought he had only a few months, but now, because of a new treatment, he may live longer. (Two years? Five years? Ten years? The doctors don't know.) And that uncertainty is disorienting.

"The path forward would seem obvious," he writes, "if only I knew how many months or years I had left. Tell me three months, I’d just spend time with family. Tell me one year, I’d have a plan (write a book). Give me 10 years, I’d get back to treating diseases [as a neurosurgeon]. The pedestrian truth that you live one day at a time didn’t help: What was I supposed to do with that day? My oncologist would say only: 'I can’t tell you a time. You’ve got to find what matters most to you.' "
We all know are going to die, and we don't know when, but as Paul says, "now I know it acutely."

Read his beautiful essay here, if you'd like. Thank you so much for sharing, Paul. We love you. xoxo

(Top illustration by Tucker Nichols for the New York Times)