I'm In Love With My...

My track record in love relationships is, to put it charitably, spotty.

Now my road and trail records are another story.

All right, that last sentence was yet another of my many lame attempts at cycling humor.  

About my relationships:  They seem to have a four-year lifespan--you know, like a Presidential term.  I found out that one of my paramours was a Republican, but that isn't what ended our liaison.

Nor did cycling.  In fact, of everyone with whom I've been involved, she was the only one who had any sort of passion for cycling.  Though hers didn't quite match mine, I didn't have to use my powers of persuasion (Yes, go ahead and laugh!) to get her to accompany me for a spin.  In fact, more than a few times, she initiated the ride and I went along.

But, my other partners--including my former spouse--had little or no enthusiasm for cycling.  The ex-cohabitant would go for a ride with me every now and again and, at one point, even wanted a bike of her own, which I bought for her. (It wasn't a gift for any particular occasion.) And when I wanted to go on a longer ride, by myself or "with the guys", we'd agree upon a day--usually Saturday--and she would spend time with the friends of hers I didn't like.

So I can't say cycling broke us up.  In fact, my riding wasn't a factor in any of my other break-ups, not even with the girlfriend (ironically, my first after my divorce) who'd never ridden a bike in her life and had no wish to get in the saddle.   (That, honestly, was a "rebound" relationship for both of us, and we both knew it.)  And then there was the boyfriend who rode with me once, and we never talked about cycling again.  Even he, as possessive as he was, at least knew that I needed a Day of Riding (Yes, it became official, more or less.) every week during the season and once or twice a month during the off-season, as weather permitted.

I guess I've been relatively lucky:  Other cyclists have told me that their riding--and the time they spend working on their bikes and shopping for parts and accessories--had something or a lot to do with the end of their relationships and even marriages.

So it was for a man in Istanbul who was identified as Burak Z.  His wife, identified as Yagmur Z., said his obsession with his bicycle damaged her mental health and left their marriage in shambles.  She has filed for divorce and is seeking 400,000 Turkish lira (about 106,000 USD) in damages.  

Instead of spending time with her, she says, he works on his machine.  He sets it up in the living room, she alleges, and cleans and fixes it daily.  "This is no ordinary attachment, he is literally in love with his bike," she explained.

I couldn't help but to think of one of the most deliriously funny songs on what is probably Queen's most deliberately campy album, Night At The Opera. 



Just substitute "bike" for "car" and the names of bike parts for the names of car parts, and the song would work for some of us.

Seriously, though:  He didn't pay attention to her.  He paid attention to his bike instead.  Now he'll have to pay her.  As much as we love our bikes, we have to remember that we can't fix our relationships with people in the same way we patch our tubes or adjust our derailleurs! 

The Real Crime?

The Brooklyn neighborhood in which I lived until I was 13 was mainly Italian-American.  There were, however, a number of Jewish people, most of whom were at least somewhat religious, though not to the degree of the Hasidim.

Anyway, many years later, I would be married to a Jewish woman and teach in an Orthodox yeshiva.  Yes, I wore a yarmulke and dressed more or less like my students:  shirt and tie, the latter of which came off, along with the yarmulke, as soon as I left the premises.

Needless to say, I learned all sorts of interesting things from those experiences.  For example, I found out that when a Torah scroll is destroyed or simply rendered unusable, a funeral service is held for it, as if it were a person.

When I learned about that, it actually made perfect sense to me.  For one thing, the Torah and the Bible both say that in the beginning, there was the word.  So, treating the Torah as a sentinent being is an acknowledgement of the power of words (or The Word).  If I didn't think words had such potency, I probably wouldn't be a writer or English teacher!

But it also made sense to me in another way:  Sometimes people treat objects they value highly as if they were people.  Thus, one way to retaliate, get revenge or simply to upset someone is to damage or destroy something that person values.  Sometimes one member of a couple will do that to, say, the other member's favorite possession--or a thing, like a musical instrument, on which the other member spends a lot of time.  Of course, a spouse's or partner's devotion to it, or any past time, is blamed for the state of the relationship.



I was reminded of that when I read about Leeann Nicole Hood of Fort Walton Beach, Florida.  On Saturday, 3 June, her boyfriend "dropped the bomb":  He said he was breaking up with her.  During the ensuing fight, she took out a knife and stabbed---his bicycle.

Yes, you read that right:  She stabbed his bicycle.  

Then he took the knife away from her, but she managed to grab his own knife out of his pocket--and stab him in his left arm. 

Ms. Hood was arrested and is currently in Okaloosa County Jail on a $5000 bond.  She's been charged with aggravated battery with a deadly weapon (the knife), which is a felony.

I wish the boyfriend--who wasn't named in the article--a speedy recovery, for him and his bike.

Speaking of which:  I have to wonder where on the bike Ms. Hood stuck her knife.  For the sake of the young (I assume) man--and the bike--I hope it was some easily repairable or replaceable part like a tire.  That would certainly be easier to deal with than an arm wound, however superficial.

This incident begs the question (at least in my mind) of whether the boyfriend regards the attack on his bike, or his body, as the greater crime.