Yesterday, I wrote about last weekend's varied rides. Not only were the locales and sights different on each ride; so were the bikes I rode.
There was also variation within the rides, as there always is. As an example, my Friday ride took me into Brooklyn and included two utterly different neighborhoods.
The metallic hues of New York Bay and its piers, docks, towers and bridges formed the vista of Red Hook
where one bridge rims the curvature of the earth, while another doesn't go far enough.
A few miles inland, a post-industrial streetscape stands a few blocks from where I grew up, at the edge of Borough Park, now one of Brooklyn's two major Hasidic neighborhoods.
Change, however, can't seem to efface old identities and purposes:
Tell me that wasn't a Shell station.
I was tempted to check out the convenience store. Perhaps I will if I take another ride out that way. Whether or not they're different, I hope it doesn't sell sushi: There should be a law against selling it any service station convenience store.
But at least one law says it's OK for folks who'd shop in a place like that to eat sushi. According to every interpretation of Halakhic law I've read, sushis made with vegetables or raw fish comply with Kosher dietary laws. I don't imagine, though, anyone who likes sushi, whether or not they follow any religious edicts about food, would eat sushi from that place!
By the way, I had vegetable enchiladas after the ride.
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