Sweet Babe, what is time? It's been two months without you and the days are somehow both long and short. Your energy surrounds me in all of the ways yet slips through my fingers when I go to grab it. I miss you. I miss us. I knew this would be a part of my healing journey and as I rise each morning to greet the day with kindness and gratitude for the air that fills my lungs, I hear you in my head "go live life". It's still hard. One thing has come easy though, daydreaming on how to celebrate you and the impact you've had on all those who love you. Thank you for that. Thank you for being easy to love. Thank you for being you, @rossjates 😘
Celebrating Ross IS easy and I truly look forward to doing that with y'all this summer. He was such a dynamic human and trying to squeeze a Celebration of Life into an afternoon was quite literally impossible, so let's make a weekend of it! More details to come, but the date is set and together we will celebrate all that is Ross, the love of my life, our dear friend, brother, son, and overall incredible human. It will be amazing, so get stoked!
P.S.- I also want to share the personal gratitude I have for the outpouring of support I have received from our community over the last few weeks. Thanks for leaning in, checking on me, giving me a shoulder to cry on and a space to laugh. Appreciate y'all beyond words. Sending love ❤️
I can't believe it has been a week. A week without seeing your face over my morning cup of coffee. A week without you being here to tell me that you love me and that it will be okay. There are so many people who love you and I just wish you could be here to witness the depth of your magic. It is beyond inspiring...but what's new? I miss you all of the time, with every cell of my being, but am still trying to find small bits of joy where I can. You'd want that. Love you, Sweet Babe 😘
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To all who have reached out to share kind words, memories, laughs and tears with me over the last week, thank you. Figuring out how to live this 'Plan B' life will be incredibly difficult, but I have hope and so much gratitude for having y'all by my side.
Ross's wishes were to have his ashes spread at our favorite beach. The beach where we shared so many of our life milestones (big and small) together. The courage for that journey will take time, time that I will give myself.
There will also be a Celebration of Life held later this spring/summer in Asheville, NC. Being together to honor this incredible human is something that I can genuinely look forward to. Until then, please take care of you & yours and remember to love so fucking hard...for Ross❤️
Sweet Babe. Words are so hard. I already miss your smile and laugh. I miss the way you looked at me with pure love, a feeling that I will never take for granted.
You had an incredible way of making me and so many others feel seen, safe, and loved just as they are. You were the brightest of lights and will continue shining in all those who knew and loved you.
I promise to lead with kindness. I promise to remain curious and find joy in the small things. I promise to be silly and laugh. I promise to love so fucking hard. I promise to live life to the fullest and carry you with me always.
Love you, Ross Robert Yates 😘
So like I said in the voiceover, back in early August I had the idea to build a lil' hoopty rat-bike for Tour De Fat. Now I don't wanna' blow up the spot for anyone but I'm gonna' do a little, light bicicular forensics in the caption here to see if I can correctly establish an inspirational chain of custody.
Because this 20x700 concept really started with the Swobo frame.
So l only have an out of touch bystander's telephone-game of the details, but the homie Pete used to be the Swobo guy.
I didn't really know the homie Pete then.
I know the homie Pete from when he created & ran a rad bike-camping trip called "The Ramble Ride" that NBB sponsored for a number of years.
In Fort Collins the ride started at the brewery and went two nights of peddling & camping to get out to Steamboat Springs. I never did that one - I lived in North Carolina at the time - but I'd heard all about it.
Then Pete brought the ride to Asheville - also two nights of camping - and three solid days peddling this huge loop out in Pisgah National Forest. Well kind of three nights of camping, the two years I rode it we all pitched tents on the tasting room lawn so we could be up early to hit the trail on "day one" ...after shutting down the Burger Bar the night before.
The Ramble Rides were always super rad, dirt-bag good-vibe-fests. Great food, too.
Anyway, earlier this spring someone dropped like ten Swobo frames off at the bike co-op where I regularly volunteer at.
Massive windfall.
Inspiring, even.
No one really got a good look at who made the donation either, the bikes just kinda' showed up. I asked around and heard a rumor that maybe they'd been attenuating in Brave New Wheel's basement for an indeterminate number of years prior.
Kids say the darndest things.
Like I said, I'm not trying to blow the spot up.
...and like I also said aloud in the voiceover, this parade whip is kinda' up for grabs right now. So if you're in need of a bikey and you're lookin' for a lil' one-speed to dink around some mostly flat streets on, get at me.
"It only takes a single clown to start a parade"
Or something like that 🍻
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#bikebuild #steelisreal #tourdefat #hooptybike
@peterdiscoe@johnny_pantani 😘
Can't really get out on a bicycle these days, but can absolutely chill in an autumnal backyard with a beautiful view, sip a choice NA beverage, and enjoy a chapter of a novel that had me fully hooked on page one.
For someone who still occasionally dreams in MLA format - a chronic symptom common to latent arts education - Ian McEwan's "What We Can Know" is the type of near-future, post-meta-fiction that is extremely my shit.
He's doing a subtle version of "tactics & structure of non-fiction writing in a fictional narrative" that is way less disruptive than the ol' DFW footnote/endnote maneuver.
The concept of "fiction within fiction" is fucking catnip. Especially when it contextualizes the primary fabricated texts within a made-up story alongside real, published work from actual existing authors. It assumes the reader's canonical knowledge then slides the fiction's fiction right in there, adding a few more invented supporting texts for flavor - or who knows what, I'm only halfway though - t'boot.
The first time I remember a meta-fictional device within a story really blowing my mind was the summer before ninth grade when I read John Irving's "The World According to Garp". The titual character is a writer, and in the middle of this novel "about his life" there is an example of a story he "wrote" but it's not like an excerpt from a longer work, it's an entire novella called "The Pension Grillparzer" unabridged, in the middle of the ongoing plot. I remember incredulously actually laughing out loud at just like, the idea to do that in a book.
The exact opposite tactic is used to explore the primary fabricated text within "What We Can Know" a lost poem called "A Corona for Vivian". No one in the novel's future-present, or archived past has ever actually read the poem. The conflicting, highly subjective impressions of its content are formed by accounts from the very few, very dead individuals who heard it read aloud in the distant past, our relative present. This patchwork epistolary silhouette reminds me of the "first-hand accounts" from Chuck Palahniuk's "Rant". You never actually meet Rant Casey, just like you never actually read Blundy's masterpiece ...
I have some not great news to share. In fact it's so bad some would call it the worst.
I returned to Duke in early September for follow-up scans which revealed that the cancer in my lungs has continued to metastasize. The progression of the disease is now at a point where I no longer have any viable treatment options left.
My oncologist estimated that I have about six months left to live.
See, pretty bad, huh.
We've been attempting to wrap our heads around this prognosis for a few weeks now. Apparently there is a sharp delineation between belief & acceptance.
I believe my very serious doctor who I have worked with for years when they tell me that this is happening. It's the inevitable end result of a cancer diagnosis that has no cure. Over the past nine years I've undergone multiple surgeries, radiations, and chemotherapies but at no time have I ever been "in remission" or cured of this disease. But treatment has slowed it down and bought me close to a decade of continued life. I know this is true because I've been there the whole time doing it, and at every setback that same very serious doctor has always had a recommendation to keep the game afoot. They don't save the special chemo for a third act twist when shit gets really bad. The objective medical reality of PET/CT imaging does not come with a court of appeals.
Again, I believe my Duke crew when they tell me we've got no moves left.
Acceptance is another story. What does "you've got six months" even mean? Abstractly I know that everyone dies, sure. But now?
Shouldn't I get like another measly forty years?
Nope.
It's not like if I eat my veggies and start jogging they'll reassess in 90 days. Shit, I might not make it to Thanksgiving.
There is no silver lining here, no moral to the story other than cancer sucks and that life is fleeting.
And beautiful.
My incredible wife Jen & I are focusing on the quality of time we have left together. We've been able to spend time with family & friends in the past few weeks and intend to keep doing more of that. She's also put together a very thoughtful go fund me for, you know, the funeral and such.
Link in bio I guess.
Love you all.
*sigh* what a time to be alive
Today I concluded Gore Vidal's 1962 novel "Julian" while laying in a hammock in Fort Collins, Colorado.
But last week I was lounging by a pool in Durham, North Carolina next to my beautiful wife sippin' on a session Ponysaurus brew, fully engrossed in the heart of the narrative.
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"We have come a long way... at least in the brief space of a life - which is why I have always the sense I must hurry to get things done, that there is hardly any time at all for a man to impress his quality and passion upon a world which will continue after him, as unconcerned as it was when it preceded him." (Vidal, 2003, p. 344)
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Remember this afternoon sweet babe, I love you so much.
🌞🍻😘
Melvins punishing the shit out of the Aggie last night. I'd never seen 'em live before and baby, they fuckin' delivered.
So good hangin' with ya' homies, thanks for kickin' it pit-adjacent with me all night.
...and can ya' believe we caught Dale Crover's drumstick at the end of the set?
Yeah, me neither.
Wild 🤙🍻🔥👁️
Sweet babe did I ever tell you that I love to take some time off & away with you?
It's great to see friends, hang at some favorite spots, and go to a wild wedding party... but after this past year just getting to spend some time together that's not beholden to either work obligations or medical necessity is the real treat.
Did I ever tell you that you little California cutie?
It's true!
Had good scans this morning at Duke.
Pragmatically we're still trying to figure out what that means, but it's definitely today's all-caps headline: GOOD SCANS
Got celebratory pedicures, burgers, and a game of cribbage in afterwards because GOOD SCANS
Now we're chillin' back at the spot in the moody courtyard sippin' on an NA about to wrap up DFW's "Girl With Curious Hair" as the sun sets
GOOD FUCKING SCANS
#gratitudecheck #booksandbeer #goodscans
Homie, toasting you and Katie's love on a mountain top last night was a righteous reminder of how amazing it is to find the person that you want to spend your life with.
I'm so stoked to be your friend as you level-up on this next chapter of life's adventure.
Thank you for having Jen & I out to get down on the dancefloor and howl at the moon with the Carolina fireflies.
Love you brother.
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Being married rules!
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#neverendingweekend #awitnesstree
