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Remembering Paul Genaro - Bike

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catfish

Riding an Alexander Rocket Bike
Paul was truly a legend in the bicycle hobby. And Icon and a Pioneer. He was one of my oldest, and longest bicycle Brothers. We picked together all over the north east. And we travelled to many swap meets together. Shared more hotel rooms than I can remember. And we ate a lot of food. Paul loved food.

He was often misunderstood, and some people were a little put off by his grizzly appearance. Despite his looks, he was a gentile giant with a kind heart. And his passion for the hobby was hard to beat.

He was a great mentor and a true Brother.

Rest in peace my Brother,

Catfish


So, lets hear your favorite Paul story. And if you have photos of Paul - please post them.
 
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The Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead’.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
 
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