The Chase

 Whenever I hear the words “police,” “chase” and “L.A. Freeway,” I think of O.J. Simpson, especially after his recent death.

Contrary to what seems to be the public perception (especially for those who don’t remember the incident), O.J. didn’t drive the Ford Bronco.  Interestingly, the driver—Al Cowlings, a childhood friend and teammate of O.J.’s—was not charged.

I have to wonder, though:  What if O.J. had been driving? Or what if he’d been riding a bicycle?

What Are They Really Trying To Stop?

Is it really a public-safety issue?

Nithya Raman thinks not.  She joined three fellow Los Angeles City Council members in voting against a motion to draft a law that would prohibit the repair or sale of bicycles on city sidewalks.  

But ten other councilmembers, including mayoral candidate Joe Buscaino, out-voted them.  One of their reasons, they claim, is that the folks who fix or sell bikes create hazards by blocking the sidewalks.  While that is a legitimate concern, Raman thinks it's not the real reason for the motion.  After all, as she points out, there is already an ordinance against unnecessary obstruction of sidewalks.

Those "no" voters also don't believe another stated reason for the motion, voiced by Busciano:  It would be a way of combating bike theft.

That claim is specious at best and simply dishonest bigoted at worst.  

While some of the bikes might well be stolen, that is usually impossible to prove because, for one thing, many thefts go unreported.  Perhaps more important, most stolen bikes are never seen or heard from again by their owners or anyone else.  Part of the reason for that is that bikes are often end up in "chop shops."  But another, and possibly more important reason, is that most law enforcement agencies simply don't take bike theft seriously.

I think the real reason anyone is calling for a law against repairing or selling bikes on sidewalks is that many who engage in such activities are un-housed*--and people of color.  The bikes are usually fixed and sold where those people live--under bridge and highway underpasses, for example.  One of those denizens, Denise Johnson, points out that many of those bikes--like the ones her husband assembles and she sells--are built and fixed from salvaged bikes and parts.  

Denise Johnson, with bike frame and parts her husband will assemble.  Photo by Genaro Molina, for the Los Angeles Times. 

She might've echoed what Pete White, the executive director of Los Angeles Community Action Network, said about the proposed ban.  He believes it's "a facial attempt to declutter 'targeted sidewalks' but whose real goal is to banish homeless people from their community."  In other words, it's a version of the now-discredited "broken windows" philosophy of crime-fighting.  

The most obvious explanation for the motion is political:  It's hard not to think that Buscaimo is using it to score points in his mayoral campaign.  The cynic in me says that it's another way for the police to avoid actually dealing with bike theft as the serious crime it is. (The monetary value of some bikes alone should merit attention; more important is that, for many owners, our bikes are as important as cars and other vehicles are to their owners.)  Also,  I can't help but to think that it's a way for law-enforcement to go after the "low-hanging fruit" of cyclists and un-housed people:  It's easier to demand proof that someone  owns the bike on which they're fixing a flat, or to chase people who sleep in bus shelters, than it is to go after a motor-scooter or car driver who runs red lights or hedge funds that operate "dark stores." 

*--Herein, I will no longer refer to people who live on streets or in other public places as "homeless."  The bridge, highway and trestle underpasses, bus shelters and other places where they sleep and keep their stuff are, in essence, their homes.  It can thus be argued that many such people have formed communities of one kind or another.

I Admire His Ingenuity, But There Are Better Uses For Bikes

In earlier posts, I've written about homeless people I often encounter on rides, especially during my commutes to and from work.  I've seen them in the places one expects to find them:  in doorways and vestibules,  under train trestles and under overpasses of one kind or another, inside any kind of structure abandoned temporarily or for years or decades. I saw one man sleeping on the ramp, partially enclosed, that gave cyclists and pedestrians access between the Bronx and Randall's Island before the connector opened.  Some unhoused people even sleep, or at least recline, on sidewalks that see little or no foot traffic after business hours, covering themselves with blankets, rags, cardboard boxes or almost anything else that provides a layer, however thin, between them and the night.  When that doesn't prove to be enough--or sometimes when it does--they curl up into a fetal position as if they were trying to re-create their mothers' wombs, their first (and perhaps only real) home.

And some have bicycles.  I would guess they were "rescued" from dumpsters, trash left for curbside pickup or other places and repairs, just enough to keep the bike operable, salvaged from those same sources.  Some folks use their bikes as their "shelter", or at least part of it.

Apparently, one unhoused man in Los Angeles' Koreatown took the idea of using a bicycle as "shelter" further than anyone I've witnessed or heard about.  He built a wall of bicycles between himself and the traffic of 4th Street.

Of course, not everyone appreciates the man's creative ingenuity.  He is just one of many people living in a sidewalk homeless encampment on 4th.  Since not many businesses or residents would allow such people to use their toilets or showers, sanitation is a problem.  So is access to the local businesses, including a dental office.  "I have a few who have left our practice," complains Dr. Charisma Lasan, whose office is across the street from the encampment.  "They actually came and turned around and just went home" upon seeing the encampment, she explained.

While I can understand her and other business owners'--and residents'--concerns, I also know that simply chasing or detaining them won't solve the problem.  If any of the encampments' residents are like the man who built the bicycle walls, they have talents and skills--some of which may have been developed or honed on the street--that can help them to do more than merely survive.  Of course, that would mean ensuring they receive whatever they need, whether education, mental health services, medical care or other thing--including, of course, a place to live.

Oh, and as much as I appreciate the man's inventiveness, I would rather see the bikes used for transportation or recreation.  I don't think they were ever intended as shelter!

 

The Need Remains; They Want To Keep On Delivering

Back in February, I wrote about Bicycle Meals and its founder, Mike Pak.

Last year, on a Monday, he put up a flyer on Instagram, calling for help in assembling and distributing packets to the un-housed of Koreatown, the Los Angeles community he calls home.  The following Friday, 20 strangers rolled up to his apartment, ready to help.

Bicycle Meals volunteer getting ready to deliver. Photo by Angel Carreras, from KCRW.

The volunteers included people of varied backgrounds, including graphic designers, audio producers and former chefs.  Most were either working from home or not working at all, so they were able to contribute much time and energy--and, in many cases, their own money (to purchase food and other items).  They assembled packets containing sandwiches, fruit, snacks, masks and hand sanitizer--in the apartments of Pak and Bicycle Meals co-founder Jacob Halpern.

They have since moved the assembly operation to the basement of a nearby church.  Halpern notes that this has made the operation more efficient, but there is another problem:  As pandemic restrictions loosen, many volunteers have returned to their old workplaces and schedules, which doesn't leave them as much time to be, well, volunteers.

The need for their services, however, has not decreased.  Nor is the need for food and supplies.  Local businesses supplied some of them, but much also came from the volunteers themselves.  Some of the businesses can't donate as much as they did at first because they've lost so much revenue, and some of the volunteers are tapped out.  So, Pak and Halpern are hoping to engage more of, and beyond, the community for help--not only with money and material resources, but also help in accessing social services and job placement.

It seems that with all of the changes, Pak and Halpern are still trying to deliver.

His Way In L.A.

In March, I wrote about a guy on a bicycle who wove in and out of traffic on Interstate 95.

"Only in Miami!" exclaimed the driver who recorded the scene.



Well, it seems that "Magic City" isn't the only place where a cyclist might pedal among cars, trucks, buses and other vehicles doing 120 KPH (75 MPH).  Last Monday, a man was seen riding down the 101 Freeway near downtown Los Angeles--during rush hour.

"Only in LA!"  That was the response of the driver who recorded the scene.  

That driver ought to know a thing or two about crazy scenes in LA:  He's Jake Asner.  Yes, the grandson of legendary actor (and activist) Ed Asner.  

The cyclist, though, is not unique to the City of Angels.  The California Highway Patrol reports that last year, it received more than 1200 calls about people walking or cycling on freeways near the city.  

But the guy who rode on I-95 may remain unique to Miami, or anywhere, for some time:  He had nothing but a headband, hot pink socks and a thong protecting him against the Florida sun.  (Hmm...Maybe that should be the uniform of some team.)  

And he was riding backwards.  All of those cyclists on the LA freeways haven't done that yet!

A Buddy Bike For Disabled Kids

Back in the day, I served as a "captain" on tandem rides for The Lighthouse.  That meant I would  pedal and steer on the front of a tandem, while a blind or visually impaired person would be the "stoker" on the back seat.

And, yes, I followed all of the rules of being a gentleman cyclist--including that one.

I've heard that similar rides have been offered for deaf or audially-impaired folks.  That makes sense for the same reasons that tandem rides for the blind are a good idea:  It allows them to share in the joy we feel when we ride.  Also, it shows that people who partially or completely lack vision or hearing can do just about anything the rest of us can do. 

(One of the best and most creative florists I ever encountered was legally blind.  He could see colors, forms and arrangements, but had no peripheral visions.  Thus, while people and organizations called on him for weddings, banquets and other occasions, he couldn't drive!)

From The East Side Riders Bike Club website

Now the East Side Riders Bike Club (ESRBC) of Los Angeles is trying to provide a similar service for another group of people who have been, too often, deprived of the opportunity to ride and do much else we take for granted.  They work to help the Watts neighborhood (site of the 1965 riots) with bike programs and other charitable work to help keep kids out of gangs and other criminal activities.  

As it happens, communities like Watts have disproportionate numbers of developmentally-disabled children.  (When I worked as a writer-in-residence in New York City schools, I was struck by how many of the "special education" or "special needs" kids with whom I sometimes worked were residents of the projects or other poverty pockets.)  So, the good folks of the ESRBC saw another opportunity to help:  Getting kids with disabilities on bikes.

To that end, they appealed to Buddy Bikes, a Florida-based company that offers "adaptive" bikes.  Buddy Bikes is raising money so that ESRBC can get one of their machines--which cost $1500-$2000--at a reduced price.

The "Buddy Bike" that ESRBC would receive is like a tandem in reverse:  The "captain" pedals from the rear seat, while the disabled kid spins his or her feet from the front  What that means, of course, is that the Buddy Bike has a more complex steering system than what is normally found on traditional tandems.

The sad irony of this, though, is that Buddy Bikes is making their offer just as they are closing shop.  Their website says they will stay in business long enough to sell off their remaining inventory, and that they will keep their website up for another three years after.

We can only hope that the ESRBC continues their work!

Bound For Glory: A Sailor On A Bike

Yesterday I mentioned the beginning of Fleet Week here in New York City.  I recounted tales of Sailors Doing Strange Things, like holding doors open for people like me.

Now, when I say that's strange, I'm not denigrating it.  Nor do I intend to disparage another sailor who did something even stranger after a famous actor, who used to be a sailor himself, put him up to it.


The sailor in question was bound to do what he did.  Once he started, he was locked in.  He would not be released until he finished; the only person who could let him go was the Mayor of this city.





Everything I said In the previous paragraph is completely true. Literally.  You see, 95 years ago yesterday, a failed actor named Tony Pizzo set out from Los Angeles astride two wheels.  Fellow sailor C.J. Devine joined him on a planned bicycle trip to New York.


A transcontinental cycling expedition was no doubt more difficult in those days, as there were fewer paved roads and other facilities, especially in and around the Rocky Mountains and high deserts, were far more primitive than they are now.  So was much of the equipment cyclists used then.


But what made the trip so extraordinary is that both Pizzo and Devine were handcuffed to their bicycles.  Yes, you read that right.  Fatty Arbuckle shackled Pizzo's wrists to the handlebars at a ceremony in Venice Beach.  Arbuckle had bet him $3500 (in those days, more than most working people made in three years) that he wouldn't make it to New York by 1 November. 


Pizzo beat that deadline by two days and checked into a room at the Hotel McAlpin still locked to his bike.  The next day, Mayor John Hylan separated him from his machine.


About two months before that, Pizzo was separated from his partner when Devine was struck by a car in Kansas.


As if it weren't enough to ride several hours a day shacked to his handlebars, Pizzo ate, drank, washed and otherwise took care of himself while cuffed to his cycle.





Even more incredibly, the following year, he took the same trip--yes, cuffed to his bike.  And, the year after that, he got on his bike and pedaled to visit the governors of all 48 states.


You can read another--and possibly better--account of Pizzo's exploits on "The Bowery Boys," one of my favorite non-bike blogs.