A Short Ride On The Longest Night—And The Day After

Last night, I took my Winter Solstice ride.  Although I didn’t plan anything about it—except for one thing, which I’ll mention—I more or less knew I wouldn’t ride a lot of miles or climb. So I rode Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear bike.

The one planned part of my ride took me to a house about a kilometer from my apartment:

The residents of that house, on 23rd Street near the RFK Bridge, turn their porch into a kind of miniature Christmas village every year. The electric trains actually run on their tracks; the Ferris wheel turns and some of the figures walk, dance and even sing.

A few minutes later, I came upon another display that, while not as dynamic, filled the street with its lights and colors. 

I continued to ride. I’m not sure of which motivated me more: those lights and colors, the crisp cold air or the complete absence of traffic. 

About the latter: It was a proverbial “calm before the storm.” Not surprisingly, the holiday rush began this morning: A seemingly endless stream of cars crawled and honked down my street and, it seemed, everywhere: When I took a ride out to the Malcolm X Promenade today, it seemed like everyone in the world was entering or exiting LaGuardia Airport, the Grand Central Parkway or any street leading to them.

As I rode today, I couldn’t help but to think about last night’s ride—and a man who sold fruits and vegetables from a stand in Jackson Heights. I stopped and bought a bunch of red Swiss chard, a string of tomatoes and a small bag of cherries because they looked good—and out of respect to that man who, like me, was outside on the longest night of the year.

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town--Without Dasher, Danner, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Dunder and Vixem--Or Rudolph

Nearly two years ago, Bill de Blasio became the Mayor of New York City.  Practically from the moment he assumed the office (or so it seems), he promised to ban horse carriages like the ones that carry tourists through and around Central Park.

He's faced a lot of opposition.  About two weeks ago it was revealed that he's backing down and seeking only a partial ban, whatever that may mean.

As you can imagine, animal rights activists aren't happy.  I can't blame them:  After all, horses simply weren't meant to walk on asphalt or concrete or to breathe smog.  (The streets around Central Park have some of the heaviest vehicular traffic in New York.)  They are used to help perpetuate a romantic fantasy about New York:  In the days when people rode carriages because there weren't other means of transportation (except, perhaps, for the horses themselves), this city was a darker, more dangerous and more squalid than it is now--unless you were very, very wealthy.

I have to wonder, though, how the animal rights activists (with whom I am in sympathy most of the time) would react to Santa and his reindeer.  Now, because Donner, Blitzen, et al, fly through the air, their hooves aren't subjected to the impact that horses experience on Gotham streets.  On the other hand, they are flying (I assume) at high altitudes. That means there would be less oxygen for them to breathe.  Also, the effects of pollutants are magnified--which, in turn, could initiate or magnify respiratory conditions.

I think I might have found a solution for Santa--and Bill de Blasio--that just might make the animal rights activists happy:

From Bing images.

Lighting The Way Home

Well, it's that time of year again.

Whatever route I take home from work, I pass through a couple of residential neighborhoods in eastern and central Queens that feel more like they belong in Nassau County than New York City.  In those neighborhoods, many of the homes are decorated:.  Some are gaudy, others are stunning.  

Then there are ones that are distinctive, even in an image taken on a cell phone by yours truly: