My Pride

Today I am asserting my right as an Italian American to celebrate Indigenous People’s Day.

I take that back:  I am executing my duty to so observe this day.

You see, I come from a group of people that gave the world Michelangelo, Leonardo, Dante, Bocaccio and Galileo.  And Armani.  And Versace.  And Sophia Loren. And Paola Pezzo.  And Fausto Coppi.  Oh, and Campagnolo.

So how did a guy who got lost become a symbol of Italian pride?  I mean, I get lost all the time and no one has ever celebrated Justine Valinotti Day.

So, in keeping with the spirit of this day, and blog, I will leave you with this image of Alexis Vazquez and their partner Nanette Bayale.  Two years ago, after participating in Pedalpalooza, they organized an Indigenous/Native Peoples Ride:

Moving Forward: Cultural Unity--Or Clash?

 In case you were wondering how I resolved the Columbus Day/Indigenous Peoples' Day dilemma:  I cooked both spaghettti and spaghetti squash.  Well, sort of:  I cooked pasta, but it wasn't spaghetti:  Instead, I made penne with a medley of vegetables in olive oil, swirled with some mozzarella cheese.  And I baked a spaghetti squash.  Ironically, it does look like translucent spaghetti when you scoop it out of its husk.  Even though it is native to the Americas, I doubt that the indigenous people called it "spaghetti squash," because they never saw spaghetti.  Ironically, I topped it off with tomato sauce and rationalized it with the knowledge that tomatoes are also native to the Americas. (Europeans didn't have tomatoes--or potatoes--before they exploited the Americas!)

Anyway, I enjoyed both, and ate leftovers from both, today.  I'm happy.  Now I need to get on my bike.  I'm not complaining!

On something entirely unrelated:  Accompanying the umpteenth "Will the pandemic bike boom last when the pandemic ends?" I've seen was this illustration:

I don't know why it was chosen, but I like it!

What Day Is This?

Today is the holiday commonly celebrated as "Columbus Day."  Recently, it's also come to be known as "Indigenous Peoples' Day."

As someone of mostly Italian-American heritage, I am conflicted.  I mean, for years I like many others of my background, thought of this day as "our" day, when we celebrated our pride in our heritage. There are parades, parties and lots of eating and drinking.  

I enjoyed those things, even though I knew Columbus didn't "discover" America (people were already living here) and doubted that he was the first person to arrive here after crossing the Atlantic.  Plus, he didn't even get here on purpose.  

Our culture has turned out Michelangelo, Galileo, Leonardo da Vinci, Dante, Verdi, Sophia Loren and Tullio Campagnolo--and we celebrate a guy who got lost?  That never made any sense to me.

Now, calling this "Indigenous Peoples' Day," I can understand. Of course, I have no business being any part of a celebration, as I have no Native American blood in me.  I do, however, have respect and empathy for the way they've endured, so maybe that's something to celebrate.

Those of us who have Italian heritage just need to get another holiday!

So...What will I do today?  Well, after doing some work and taking a ride (if the downpours we're experiencing taper off), I'm going to make--spaghetti or spaghetti squash?  I guess I could make both! 

Into The Ocean Blue...To Where?

In school, we were taught that Christopher Columbus "discovered" "America" on 12 October 1492.  

During my elementary school years, we got the day off on 12 October.  Then, around the time I was beginning adolescence, "Columbus Day" was moved to the second Monday of October.  So it is observed today.

As the story goes, he set sail for India. Instead, he landed somewhere between Port-au-Prince and Santo Domingo.  Thus, he didn't even make it to what we call America (i.e., the continent) today.

What I have never understood, though, is why we have a holiday for a guy who got lost.

And, as an Italian American, I don't know why he's a source of pride for us.  I mean, we have Michelangelo, Galileo, Leonardo, Raphael, Dante, Bocaccio, Cassini (OK, he turned French), Marconi and all sorts of other folks who distinguished themselves in every imaginable field.  Heck, we even have great fashion designers.  I'd rather have a day for Armani or even Versace--or, of course, any number of Italian cyclists.

All right, I'll shut up and go for a ride--and enjoy my lasagna afterward!

What If He'd Had A GPS?

Today Columbus Day is being celebrated in the US.  When I was growing up, it was always observed on 12 October.  But, some time during the '70's, many traditional holidays were moved to Mondays because folks in the government realized it was cheaper to close offices for three days in a row rather than to interrupt the work week.  Of course, not too many people complain about the three-day weekend.

This morning, I was talking with my friend Mildred.  She is not a terribly political person, and she doesn't normally involve herself with what much of the alt-right derisively calls "identity politics".  Today, though, was different.  The first thing out of her mouth was, "They should take down his statue! They should re-name that circle at 59th Street!"

From her daughter, she recently learned that he was a "murderer" and "rapist".  I assured her that there was much I didn't know for a very long time, so she shouldn't flagellate herself.

I tried to make light of the situation.  "And on top of everything, he got lost."  She laughed.

She shares an Italian-American heritage with me.  So she practically applauded when I said, "We have Michelangelo, Galileo, Dante and Armani.  Why do we celebrate a guy who got lost?"

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That got me to thinking about another feature of this holiday: sales.  All of the big department stores are running them.  So are many smaller retailers.  Interestingly, bike shops don't seem to follow their example.   I guess there's no particular reason for them to have a sale today.  What could they offer?  GPS devices?  What would history have been like if Chris had a Garmin Edge?  

I think I'd get lost even if I used one.  I may have descended from the same line of people as Columbus.  Sometimes, though, I think that all I inherited was his sense of direction!

Fall, And What I Needed

Some have called last night's debate "depressing".  

I was too much in shock to be depressed.  The last time I felt that way about an event in which I was not personally involved was on 11 September 2001. 

Like many other people here in New York, I was stunned for days, for weeks, afterward.  Then came grief, a sense of loss:  Even though I didn't lose anyone I knew in the events of that day, I felt a sense of loss.  When a complete stranger cried on my shoulder, I held her until she got off the bus we were riding.  We didn't speak and I never saw her again. Each of us understood, I believe, and gave each other what we needed in that moment.  

I had not thought about that encounter in years, until now.  Some have seen that time as a kind of Fall, when this country lost its collective innocence.  The days and weeks that followed--which, as I recall, were unusually warm for the time of year--did not feel autumnal.  

The holidays, like the days that preceded and followed them, passed through a kind of gray storm in which needles of ice rained down even on the clearest of days.  Those first glacial spears stung; the ones that followed stunned; after that, I was too numb to feel the rest, for a long time.

There may have been a Fall that year.  But the season that followed did not feel Autumnal:  that October and November felt just like the following January and February, in no small part because those months were--up to that time--the warmest winter months this city had experienced.

Today, in contrast, felt exactly the way some of us might have, at some time in our lives, expected a day from this time of year to feel.  Today began overcast but turned, rather quickly, into an afternoon with a blue sky lit by intense sunlight that hinted at the sunset that would tinge the horizon a few hours later.  The morning's chill had, by that time, turned into a nip.

In other words, it felt like the Fall day it is.  It was that day when one realizes that the season is well underway:  It's no longer possible to say that summer has just passed, but winter, though everyone knows it will come, does not yet seem imminent.  

Fewer cars and taxis and buses plied the street on which I live, or the avenue around the corner or the other streets that branched from it, than one sees on a typical Monday.  The reason, of course, is that today is a holiday (as I like to say, for a guy who got lost):  the one that always seems, to me, the one that signals that it is indeed Fall.

On this holiday last year, I was in Montreal, where--ironically--it was warmer, more like a September day here in New York and the leaves of the iconic maple trees that line the city's streets blazed in the sun.  Montrealers, like other Canadians, don't celebrate Columbus Day.  Rather, the second Monday of October is, for them, Thanksgiving Day.   I certainly was thankful for having such a wonderful day to ride and interesting places to explore.  

I had those things, today, too.  So of course I went for a ride.  I didn't plan anything, not even which of my bikes I rode.  As it turned out, I took Tosca, my fixed gear Mercian, for a spin.  Perhaps I chose her because, somehow, I knew--my body knew--that I needed to keep my feet spinning.  But I was not riding for escape:  In fact, it was quite the opposite.  

Where did I go?  I know I pedaled through various parts of Brooklyn and Queens; I think I even popped into Nassau County, briefly, and back again into the borough I now call home, into the one I called home The Day The Towers Fell, and back home.

That ride gave me exactly what I needed, for I did what I needed to do.  And I am satisfied now.

(Note:  I didn't take any photos during my ride.  The image you see was made by Matt Hyde.)

A Day Off-- And Another Beautiful Day to Ride

In at least one way, Columbus Day is a terrible holiday.  Depending on how you look at it, on this day the United States celebrates a guy who got lost or the beginning of Native American genocide.

Italy has given the world Petrarch, Dante, Bocaccio, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Galileo, Puccini, Verdi and Gino  Bartali.  But we celebrate "Columbus Day" as a festival of Italian pride.  Mamma mia!

One nice thing about it, though, is that most people have the day off from work or school, so there isn't much traffic on the roads.  If the weather is nice, as it was today, people will be out and about--but not as many as, say, on Memorial Day, the Fourth of July or Labor Day.

There was no denying that it was a great day to ride. I took Tosca on a ramble through the Brooklyn waterfronts, the Hasidic neighborhoods and Coney Island. 

At Sheepshead Bay, I saw the Three Musketeers: