I Couldn’t Cash My Traveler’s Check. And I Celebrated.

 

Today, the 15th of August, is the Day of the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Say that three times fast—in Latin.  If you won’t, I don’t blame you—not many other people would. If they’re paying attention to it at all, they simply call this date the Assumption. 

You may be wondering why there’s a holiday for something people believe whether or not anybody can prove it’s true.  Well, the “Assumption,” in this case is that the Virgin Mary ascended, body and soul, into Heaven at the end of her life. Now, I know that some people, including a bunch of old guys who live in Rome, do not see the Assumption as, well, an assumption:  It has been a “dogmatic truth of faith” ever since Pope Pius XI declared it so in 1950.  But the faithful didn’t need that decree; many have been celebrating it ever since at least the fifth century C.E.

And why is all of this important, at least according to Catholic theology? Supposedly, Jesus ascended to heaven under his own power. (Hmm…Sometimes getting up hills is hard enough!) Mary, on the other hand, could ascend only by the power and grace of God.

I guess that is the reason why even some very lapsed Catholics celebrate this day:  If Mary, a human, could go to Heaven, body and soul, so can the rest of us.  (I always wondered about the “body,” though:  If you are old and ravaged, is that the version of you that makes the trip up, up and away? What if you’re an amputee?) And in some current—and former—bastions of Catholicism, this date is a national holiday on which banks, post offices and the like close.

France is one such country. I was reminded of that during one of my bike tours there when I needed to cash a traveler’s check (remember those?). Fortunately, I could’ve made it through the day on some fruit and half of a baguette I’d bought the day before in Troyés.

Notice that I used the past conditional tense.  I stopped beside a tree, just to get out of the sun for a few moments.  A group of people—a couple of families—invited me to join their picnic. I learned that in now-mostly-secular France, the day is, for many, one last chance to shop, take a short trip or simply relax before the rentreé (when kids go back to school) or returning to work.

Those experiences are, for most people, about as far from an “assumption “ as possible. That may be a reason why, even if they don’t believe what it represents, they celebrate the holiday. At least I didn’t need a miracle when, for one day, I couldn’t cash a traveler’s check!

Two Women Riding In The Rockaways

 

Today’s ride to Point Lookout was pleasant in all of the ways one could hope: The weather was warm, but not overly so; I had to pedal into just enough wind on my way out to make things interesting and I seemed to have just beaten the summer weekend crowds. Pleasant and pretty unremarkable, except perhaps for two women I saw.

The first rode with me across the Veterans Memorial Bridge to the Rockaway Peninsula and then to the boardwalk, where we parted ways. I’d guess that she’s within a decade of my age. She rode a Trek road bike in, probably, the smallest frame size available in that model. But I wouldn’t describe her as petite so much as compact:  Her body seemed to concentrate not only strength, but also the effort and discipline she put into cycling and, I suspect, whatever else she does.

The second, whom I encountered—ironically enough—just before I entered the VM Bridge on my way back, seemed about as different from the first. Tall and lithe, she could be as much a model as an athlete.  If the first one concentrated power, the second extended it through her long limbs. She rode what appeared to be a flat-bar road bike, also from Trek. The young man, who seemed to be her boyfriend or fiancé, pedaled a bike that looked like hers, except for its dropped handlebars.

On reflection, I recall a striking similarity between those two women:  They seemed, each in her own way, very confident and in command of their bodies.  The petite woman on her road bike pedaled in deliberate strokes and perched herself forward in an unapologetic yet joyful way. The taller woman kept pace with her male companion and, perhaps, could have ridden faster. But something in her body language told me she wasn’t trying merely to be in sync with him, and a brief glimpse of her face led me to believe she wasn’t deferential to him.

I am glad to have seen each of those women riding confidently, competently and comfortably in her own way. And they remind me of what this administration, with its patriarchal religious and oligarchic allies, are trying to take from us.

(I apologize for not taking pictures of either of the women, or today’s ride.)

Why Couldn’t It Break Away From The Big Screen?

        
(Go to 7:00)

I had forgotten about it until the other day.  Turns out, I’m not the only one who did.

I’ve been watching Paul Van Scott’s YouTube series on TV shows that lasted one season or less. Some shows, I must admit, I’d never heard of.  Others, however, I’d seen, if only for one or two episodes.

His segment about the short-lived series from 1980-81 included Breaking Away. It might sound familiar even if you never saw it: It was based on the previous year’s movie of the same name. That picture enjoyed both critical and commercial success; the TV show would only experience one. Why?

No one could answer the question. After all, it had all of the elements that made the movie so successful:  The relatively unknown actors fleshed out well-written roles in a coming-of-age story that just happened to be about a young man who dreams of being a professional bicycle racer.  The story also had an “underdog” element, as the young man was an American in the Midwest, and his heroes, whom he is trying to emulate, are Italian.

If the movie’s success surprised anyone, it was because relatively few Americans were interested in bicycle racing.  Remember, this was before Greg Le Mond’s Tour de France victories. And while almost nobody thought the movie turned the Unites States into a nation of cycling fans, almost everyone involved with the project believed that what made the story so appealing on the big screen would translate to the small screen.

Some argue that it did. And that is why no one could explain why its ratings were low enough that it was canceled after only eight episodes. The other shows that aired at the same time were decent but hardly ratings juggernauts. Steve Teisch wrote and Peter Yates directed both the movie and series. Some actors reprised their roles. One notable exception was Dennis Christopher, whom Shaun Cassidy replaced in the David Stohler role. While nobody ever watched Cassidy for his acting chops, I don’t think he would have turned off TV audiences.

Here is my two-bit theory as to why the TV series didn’t make it through a aeason. People who didn’t care about bicycle racing (e.g., most Americans in 1979) were willing to watch it for the sake of the story for a single movie of less than two hours . On the other hand, I think that if they still weren’t interested in pacelines and pelotons a year later, they certainly weren’t willing to see them every week, even if the series had the same “feel good” story as the movie and they thought Shaun Cassidy was cute.