Would Fat Have Become A Fad?

Practically from the moment Specialized introduced the "Stumpjumper" in 1981, would-be pundits said that mountain bikes were a "fad."  Some of those wise folk were in Schwinn's management, which may be a reason why the company filed for bankruptcy a decade later.

Anyway, any number of things in the bike world have been called "fads" almost from the moment they saw the light of day.  One of them is the "fat bike", which typically sports tires 3 inches or more in width.  Although I have never ridden, and probably won't ride, such a bike myself, I am not about to sound its death knell, even if most examples of the genre I've seen don't exactly fit in with my sense of aesthetics.

Still, though, I have to wonder whether "fat bikes" would have endured had they been introduced, say, 130 years ago. 

That is about the time "safety" bicycles appeared.  They are like the machines most of us ride today:  two wheels of the same size powered by a chain-driven drivetrain.  Before that, cyclists mounted "penny-farthings" with front wheels of 60 to 80 inches (150 to 200 centimeters).  Could such a bike have been made "fat"?

Looking at that photo, I can't help but to think that perhaps "fat" bikes would have been a fad that disappeared, say around 1890 if the first "fatties" had been high-wheelers!

Colorado To Allow Cities To Choose The Idaho Stop

As I've mentioned in previous posts, Idaho enacted a law that allows cyclists to treat red lights as "Stop" signs and "Stop" signs like "Yield" signs--all the way back in 1982.  Since then, other jurisdictions have passed similar ordinances.  But nearly all such regulation in the ensuing three and a half decades has been at the local level.

Lawmakers in Colorado, where a few municipalities already have such legislation, seem to have noted this reality.  They also seem to have noticed that other places haven't passed such laws because of hurdles they faced in doing so.

At least, I hope that is the reason why the Colorado House of Representative passed SB18-144 last week and the state's Senate voted for it this week.  Governor John Hickenlooper is expected to sign it into law.

SB18-144 makes it easier for cities, towns and other localities to adopt "safety stop" (a.k.a. "Idaho Stop") rules by creating a standard ordinance.  One hurdle local politicians faced in enacting such rules is that they might not align with the laws in other--sometimes neighboring--municipalities.  In other words, the bill, if signed, would give them a template they can adopt. 

So why doesn't the Centennial State (or any other state) simply mandate the "safety stop" statewide?  Well, in some places--particularly in spread-out rural areas found in states like Colorado--people just don't like to be told what to do by remote bureaucrats, whether in Denver or Washington.  But more important, the ordinance contains language stating that it shall not apply to any part of the state highway system.  That seems to have been a technicality that kept a different version of the bill from passing last year.

Those jurisdictions, such as Aspen and Summit County, that already have similar regulations will be allowed to keep them if the law is passed.

Bike Share Programs Save Money--And Lives

I suspect most readers of this blog believe that bike-share programs are beneficial, not only to the people who use them, but for the communities in which those programs are based.

Now a study by the Barcelona Institute for Global Health (IS Global) confirms what we believe--with empirical data.  IS Global studied the twelve largest bike share programs in Europe.  The programs were spread across six different countries (Belgium, France, Germany, Italy, Poland and Spain) and each has more than 2000 share units.  Two, in Barcelona and Milan, combine mechanical with electric bikes; Madrid's includes only electrical bike.  The other nine share only mechanical bicycles.

The IS Global researchers analyzed both the health benefits and risks of substituting  trips on  share bikes for car trips.  They used data from transport and health surveys, as well as registers of pollution and traffic accidents to determine the number of deaths due to lack of physical activity, traffic accidents and air pollution exposure.

The researchers could say with certainty that the use of shared bicycles by people who previously used their cars spares five lives and saves 18 million Euros a year.  If all public bike trips were made by people who previously drove, those numbers rise to 73 lives and 226 million Euros.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Paris, with the largest share system in Europe, saw the greatest benefit to public health.  But even Madrid's all-electric system could be credited with better public-health outcomes, though the improvements were not as great as in cities where people pedaled their shared bikes: Madrilenos sucked put out and sucked in less pollution, but didn't get the exercise one gets on mechanical bicycles.

Although these results are encouraging, IS Global researcher and study coordinator David Rojas believes that cities could do more. "The real benefits could be even greater if the local authorities worked to increase the number of bicycle trips per day, ensure traffic safety and improve air quality, " he says.

Will A Ride Report Lead To A Better Bike Lane?

On this blog, I have lamented the poor planning, design and construction of too many bike lanes and other kinds of bike infrastructure.  Some of you have suggested--and I would agree--that it is in large part due to planners who don't understand cycling because, by and large, they don't ride themselves.

If someone doesn't ride, the only accurate information he or she can receive about riding conditions and the needs of cyclists will come from other cyclists.  Of course, the best information of all comes in "real time":  In other words, from records of cyclists as they cycle rather than "snapshots" of who passes through a given point at a given moment.

At least, that seems to be the thinking of transportation planners in--you guessed it--Portland.  They have just signed an agreement with Ride Report, a local tech startup, to share user data with them.  The company's free smartphone application automatically tracks trips and gives users the ability to immediately rate the route's safety, whether it's great, mixed or not so great.

Of course, this cannot provide complete data:  The city has no plans to mandate it for cyclists.  Still, it would almost certainly provide more useful information than taking counts at 280 intersections, as Portland currently does.  Such counts cannot be done continuously and require trained volunteers--who, no matter how good they are, don't always collect precise information.  Moreover, the apps could collect information from cyclists who don't have the time or inclination to attend planning meetings.  

Ride Report says that the data made available will be anonymous.  According to its terms of service, however, it may share demographic data like age or gender if the user agrees, though such agreement is not a requirement for signing up to use the app.

Make what you will of that promise.  As far as I know, no executives of a certain social media company I won't name are involved in the project!

A Thriller Or A Juicer?

My uncle, who was as much a card-carrying liberal on social issues as anyone I've known (Having spent much of my life involved in the arts and the academic world, that's saying something!) nonetheless refused to watch any movie in which Jane Fonda, a.k.a. "Hanoi Jane", appeared.  

The question of whether you can appreciate the work of anyone accomplished in his or her field--whether in the arts, sports, science or any other area of endeavor--knowing that the person did something immoral, unjust or simply out of line with your values, is certainly not new.  I know otherwise well-read people who will not touch Ezra Pound's Cantos because he was an anti-Semitic Fascist and refuse to have any truck with movies, TV shows, books or other creations from folks who are--or whom they believe to be--immoral or politically incorrect.

Likewise, there are erstwhile fans who gave up on bike racing because of the doping scandals.  This phenomenon was, I believe, most pronounced in the wake of Lance Armstrong's fall from grace.  With all due respect to Greg LeMond, Armstrong was probably the first modern "American hero" of cycling. At least, he was the reason why many Americans paid attention to the Tour de France, if not to bike racing as a whole.  But even Europeans admired and respected him, however grudgingly, if for no other reason than his "comeback" story.

It would be one thing if current and former fans directed their ire solely at him.  Since he was stripped of his titles, however, it seems that some have given up on the sport.  Many more, though, look at every victory, and every current and rising star, through a lens tinted with suspicion.  It's hard to blame them, though the problem of doping pervaded cycling--and sports generally--long before Lance seemed to spring from his death bed to the podium.

So, when Alberto Contador announced his retirement from racing a few months ago, fewer tears were shed than when Bernard Hinault, Eddy Mercx, Jacques Anquetil, Fausto Coppi or even Miguel Indurain called it quits.  That, even though, among those riders, Hinault is the only one besides Contador to have won all three Grand Tours --Tour de France, Giro d'Italia and Vuelta a Espana-- more than once. (Mercx and Anquetil each won the Vuelta once, while neither Coppi nor Indurain ever won it.) Even though nearly anyone who has followed the sport will say that he was one of the most talented riders of his generation, they are not as sorry to see him go as they were when previous winners of the maillot jaune and maglia rosa left the scene.

Contador in the 2005 Tour Down Under

Contador, though, wasn't just a cyclist who won races.  He pedaled with gusto, and raced with panache.  Probably the last cyclist who won with such style was Marco Pantani, winner of the 1998 Tour and Giro.  His "juicing" spiraled into abuse of other drugs, including cocaine, and led to his death five and a half years later. The way Contador rode was often described as a "dance", and he recently admitted that in his final Vuelta --which he won--he would "attack exactly when I felt like it" instead of "calculating everything".  You might say he had his reasons:  After all, he was riding his final race, and it was in his home country.

He was indeed thrilling to watch.  Should we remember him for that--or for the titles he lost and the ban he incurred from his drug use?   

World Bicycle Day: 3 June

The past decade or so has seen efforts to promote cycling as a viable form of transportation, not to mention recreation.  Such efforts have included everything from the establishment of bike share and earn-a-bike programs to the construction of bike lanes.

The latter, along with other bike infrastructure, varies widely (to say the least) in the quality of conception and construction.  One hopes (or at least  I hope) that planners will learn from their mistakes or be replaced by folks who understand cycling.

Nearly all of the work I've mentioned, though, has been initiated locally--usually by cities or independent organizations.  There have been few initiatives on the county, state or national level here in the US or in other countries.

That may change.  One of the most influential worldwide organizations is making at least a token effort to promote cycling around the globe.

That organization is none other than the United Nations.  On 12 April, at a Regular Session of the General Assembly, a resolution was discussed.  It was adopted by a consensus of the 193 member states.

The resolution declares 3 June as World Bicycle Day.  The purpose of that declaration is, according to a UN press briefing:

[to] emphasize and advance the use of the bicycle as a means of fostering sustainable development; strengthening education, including physical education, for children and young people;  promoting health; preventing disease; promoting tolerance, mutual understanding and respect; and facilitating social inclusion and a culture of peace.

What the UN is saying is, in essence, that cycling can help to achieve some of the organization's stated goals.  I think they're right. (As a longtime cyclist, I'm a totally unbiased observer, right?)  Things like peace, sustainability and respect for each other's humanity seem all the more important in the days after the missile strike in Syria and a report that the Gulf Stream is the weakest it's been in more than a millenium and a half.  

A Clash Between My Senses

In most of the Northern Hemisphere, the most unpredictable, or at least the most variable, weather comes in April.

I was reminded of that last week, when the contrast between my afternoon ride on Wednesday and the longer ride I took on Friday--which included Wednesday's route--could not have been more stark.  And Saturday's ride went from the almost summer-like warmth I experienced on Friday to the near-winter conditions of my Wednesday ride--all within the space of an hour.

Within the warmth and sunshine of Friday and early Saturday, though, there was an even more striking disparity--between my senses.

The warmth I was feeling against my skin (Shorts!  Short-sleeved top!) in no way reflected much of what I saw around me.

The trees hadn't yet begun to bud in the Greenwich Common, where I rode on Friday

nor along the Verrazano Narrows promenade or Owl's Head Park, where I rode with Bill and Cindy the following day.

The funniest part, though, is that after Cindy had to leave for another commitment, Bill and I rode through some of the Brooklyn backstreets of my childhood and youth (and, I must add, to the Rimini Bakery on Bay Parkway, where I introduced him to sfogliatelle, my favorite pastry).  The temperature dropped during that part of the ride.  After I put on layers I'd brought with me, we saw this:

the first budding tree--a cherry blossom. It's late this year.  I can forgive it:  Whenever I see it, I'm happy--even if it isn't in harmony with the cold wind against my skin!

Blame It On The Bike!

During my youth, I did lots of strange, stupid and forbidden things that I tried to smooth over with implausible explanations to parents, teachers, professors, supervisors, lovers and other people.  Probably even a cop or two.

I might have even said something like this:

Now, whether the cop believed me, I won't say--mainly, because you know the answer.  All I know is that when I woke up, I wasn't in jail.  But I sure had a headache--and a bike to fix!

A Twist In The Mixte

Most Americans never saw a twin-tube mixte frame before the 1970s Bike Boom.  That, of course, is also the first time most Americans saw a bicycle with a derailleur.  So, perhaps, it's no surprise that bike manufacturers like Peugeot, Motobecane, Raleigh and Fuji sold boatloads of ten-speed mixtes--though, to be accurate, many more diamond-frame (men's) bikes were purchased.

Nearly all of the mixtes available then, and now, have more or less the same design:  a pair of narrow parallel tubes that slope from nearly the top of the head tube to the rear dropout, or some point near it.  The twin tubes usually crossed the seat tube about halfway down, or maybe a bit lower.  The result was a frame that wasn't quite as "open" as the traditional women's frame, with a single curved top tube, but easier to mount than the traditional diamond frame.

What's not commonly known is that mixte frames with twin top tubes mixte frames, or at least frames that resemble them, have been made almost since the first "safety" bicycle (ones with two wheels of equal, or more-or-less equal, size) was introduced in the late 19th Century.  And they have taken on a variety of configurations, such as this example from Geoffrey Butler:

The South London builder made it to the specifications of a then-young woman who owned it until recently.  Its  eBay listing doesn't specify the tubing used to build the bike, but my guess is that it's some variation of Reynolds.  All of the parts are what one might expect to find on a touring or club bike from its era (1962):  all British, except for the Michelin tyres. (Yes, I had to spell it the British way!)  And, I must say, it is lovely.

I was struck in particular by two things.  One is, of course, the configuration of those top tubes:  They don't slope down as far as those on the more familiar kind of mixtes.  In fact, they don't seem much less horizontal (Is that a real phrase?) than the top tubes of most diamond-frame bikes.  Moreover, they end at the seat tube in a sort of semi-lug, which I find to be an interesting touch.

(Don't you just love seeing that pump between the parallel tubes?)

The other thing I immediately noticed is its size. I can't recall seeing a mixte that was too big for me:  For that matter, I haven't seen many mixte frames as tall as Vera, my Miss Mercian.  If the measurements listed are accurate (and, from what I see in the photos, I believe they are), it's indeed larger than my Miss Mercian, or almost any other mixte.  In fact, at 58 cm (for the seat tube) it's even larger than all but one diamond-frame bike I've ever owned. 

With all due respect to Vera, it is a rather uniquely (Is that a real phrase?) lovely bike.  If I were about three inches taller--or had the money and space have a collection--I probably would buy it.

The Mountain We Climbed

Two cyclists climbed the mountain.

Image from Tripsite

Their long, arduous pedal strokes channeled their fear, rage and loneliness into jagged thrusts through virages.  They funneled their darkest secret into energy that helped them push against headwinds on deceptively narrow straightaways.  

They would reach the summit but feel no sense of pride or elation about it.  Years later, each of them would say exactly the same thing:  Yeah, I did that.  To this day, others are more impressed than they are with their feats.

Both grew up in working-class enclaves--one in Scotland, the other in Brooklyn and New Jersey.  They have remarkably similar stories about being bullied and ostracized, and how they both felt the need to escape.  It drove both of them to France.

The American stayed for a time and has returned several times since.  The Scot achieved great professional success there and returns for various gigs.  

They both climbed the mountain.  And, after their descents, they realized that they would have traded that experience, and all of the others, for a life they could not have led until they crossed the valley.

As you might have surmised, I am the American.  What you might not have realized until now---I didn't, until a couple of hours ago--is that the Scot in question was the first Anglophone to wear the polka dot jersey (for the King of the Mountains) in the Tour de France.  In one of cycling's more famous photos, this rider is seen descending a mountain in the 1989 Tour, alongside Laurent Fignon, Pedro Delgado and eventual overall winner Greg LeMond.

In the 1984 Tour de France.

I am talking about someone who went by the name of Robert Millar.  Yes, that Robert Millar.  The one who finished fourth overall (then the highest standing for an Anglophone) in the 1984 edition, when Millar won the polka-dot jersey.   The following year, the Glasgow native would have a Vuelta a Espana victory "stolen" by riders who colluded for a Spanish victory.  Two years later, Millar placed second in the Giro d'Italia:  still the best finish in that race for a cyclist from the British Isles.

Millar, even after retiring from the sport, garnered great admiration and respect from former rivals and teammates, not to mention fans.  While my brief racing career brought me no money or fame, my life as a cyclist gave me, if I do say so myself, people who admired and respected me for riding up the mountain.  And another.  And another.  Some of the folks who shouted "Bon courage!" I would never meet again, but others became riding and training partners for periods of my life.

But even though Millar was a better, or at least more accomplished and recognized, cyclist than I ever was or will be, we do have remarkably similar stories.

We are the same age: only two months separate us.  And in addition to our class roots, we have other similarities in our backgrounds.  In particular, each of us had a parallel experience.  For all I know, we might have had it on the same day:  When we were five years old, the boys and girls lined up on opposite sides of the playground.  Robert in Glasgow felt the same way as Nicholas--"Nicky"--in Brooklyn:  different.  "But there was no way to communicate that without the other boys beating me up or picking on me," Millar recalls.

She took the words out of my mouth!

Philippa York

Robert Millar no longer goes by that name.  Today she is known as Philippa York.  While she has a bike with mudguards and a wicker basket for "going to town", her knowledge of the gradients and lengths of climbs around her home on the South Coast of England is "suspiciously accurate," according to a Telegraph article.  "I still like that rush of speed, but that's only downhill," she explains.  "I can't go fast on the flat or uphill anymore and I accept that I am going to need every gear on my bike."

I can relate.

We climbed the mountain.  And we are here, now--female midlife cyclists, both of us.

N.B.:  I want to thank one of my favorite bloggers, "The Retrogrouch", for alerting me to Philippa York's story!

One of my early posts will tell you more about the mountain (actually, one of the mountains) I climbed.

Her Spirit Lives On--In Saudi Arabia

I know I've mentioned it a number of times, but I never get tired of repeating it.  I'm talking about something Susan B. Anthony said--namely, that the bicycle has done more than anything else to liberate women.

More than a century after she made that observation, it has shown itself to be true, again, in a number of countries--even in one of the nations that has long been one of the most oppressive for women.

I am talking about Saudi Arabia.  For decades, women haven't been allowed to do much of anything without the approval of some male relative.  If they wanted to open a bank account, they had to have a husband's, father's or brother's signature.  If they wanted to travel abroad, they could do so only in the company of a related man.  Police officers were deployed to enforce bans on females mixing with unrelated males in public venues.

Some public venues, such as cinemas, didn't exist at all.

Some things women weren't allowed to do at all, such as driving--and riding a bicycle.

All of this was aided and abetted by the US taxpayer, which propped up the repressive House Of Saud in exchange for allowing the US to build military bases in the kingdom--and, yes, cheap petrol.

But since this is not a blog about foreign policy, I want to concentrate on a change that's brewing, however slowly, in the land of the hajj.  It is embodied in, among other women, Amirah al-Turkistani.  

Amirah al-Turkistani on her bicycle

After earning her graduate degree in 2015, she left Boston and returned to her home country.  She brought her pistachio-colored bicycle back with her.  Friends mocked her.  "What are you going to do, hang it on the wall?" one taunted her.

Now she is riding her beloved machine all over Jeddah, the Red Sea town where she lives with her husband and kids.  She has inspired other women to do the same and one can't help but to think that women like them are inspiring, if not pressuring, 32-year-old Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman to ease some social restrictions.  They include the ban on women driving, which will end this summer.

Al-Turkistani says she plans to drive, not because she really wants to drive, but to show solidarity with other women who are enjoying newfound liberties.  Also, it will greatly help her in her work as a freelance designer and college lecturer.  Still, she says, she plans to continue cycling.

What The Coast Guard Doesn't Like About Bike Share Programs

In an earlier post, I wrote about a legitimate complaint some people make about bike-share programs, the Uber-style programs in particular.  Because bikes in such systems can be located with a smart-phone app, users can leave bicycles wherever they are finished with riding them.

The problem is that in some instances, bikes are left literally wherever their riders stopped riding them.  This became a particular concern in Chinese cities, where streets and sidewalks are narrow and all manner of vehicles, from trucks to rickshaws, compete for space with cyclists and pedestrians.  Some streets and sidewalks became literally impassable, and police warned that the masses of abandoned bikes were keeping police, firefighters, medics and other responders from reaching emergency sites.

Here in the US, you can add the Coast Guard to the list of non-fans of bike share programs.

Why?, you ask.  Well, according to a recent report, bicycles--usually from share companies--are left on Washington State ferries.  When ferry crew members see a bicycle but can't find whoever was riding it, they have to send an emergency call to the Coast Guard which, in turn, has to start a rescue operation.  Since neither the Coast Guard nor the ferry operators can assume that the bike was simply abandoned, the operation is treated as a "person overboard" issue.

Cyclists disembark from Washington State ferry.

Such missions, as it turns out, are expensive.  In one incident last week, it cost $17,000 to send out helicopters and other equipment as well as Coast Guard members to ensure that no passenger ended up in the water.  Such missions take time and, as with any nautical rescue operation, must cover a large expanse of waterway, as currents can pull or push a struggling swimmer many kilometers in any direction.

(I know a bit about such things because my father was a Coast Guard reservist for more than two decades.)

Now Captain Linda Sturgis, the Coast Guard commander for Puget Sound, is urging people to leave share bikes on shore and board as passengers.  That sounds reasonable enough, but, as it turns out, many commuters get to and from work by riding share bikes to and from the boats.  So, upon disembarking from the ferry, a commuter would have to find another share bike to complete his or her trip.  I have never used such a system, but I imagine that there will be time when a bike can't be located in a timely fashion, as we used to say at the office.

Now I have to wonder whether ferries here in New York--in particular the Staten Island and Wall Street ferries--are experiencing similar problems.

Sheltered In Memory

On Sunday, Bill, Cindy and I took the ferry from the Brooklyn Army Terminal, about a mile from Bill's apartment, to Rockaway Beach.   Perhaps I "read" the choppiness of the water into everything I experienced on the ride, from the wind skittering over sand and marsh grasses to the clouds scattered through the sky.

Don't get me wrong:  I enjoyed the ride.  It wasn't long, but the company and the vistas were pleasant, and sometimes interesting.

Saying that someone lives in "a house by the water" probably conjures, for most people, an image of its inhabitants gazing over expanses of sea and sky from an open-air balcony or glass-enclosed solarium.  But, really, it can mean much else, such as this

or this

The first photo probably is a better reflections of most people (at least those who've never lived in such places) have of living "in a beach house" or "by the ocean".   There is one difference, of course:  more color.  If anything, it might look more like South Beach, Miami than the South Shore of Long Island.

The other photo is probably closer to the reality of most waterside residents.  If you think you've seen it before, you probably have:  A couple of weeks ago, we rode by it when the tide was out and mud and other detritus oozed (where murky water would lap around when the tide is in) between those islands of marsh grass and houses.

We are still trying to figure out what the geared wheel is.  My theory is that there was a boat dock there at some point--perhaps as recently as in the days just before Sandy--and that wheel was part of some mechanism that towed boats in.  Now that I think of it, I recall seeing boats in the area before Sandy.

Anyway, on the way back to Bill's place, we rode through Sunset Park.  Many, many years ago, my grandparents took me to the top of this hill

in the park.  The view doesn't seem to change much.  Or maybe there is more change than I realize, and I just don't see it because I always look out, toward the harbor and Statue, from that hill.  It's as if some law of physics applies only in that spot:  My eyes cannot turn in any other direction. 

But at least that view is different from any other maritime or littoral vista I have encountered.  It has to be, even if someone  builds houses of the blue and green and terra cotta tiles--or gnarled bark-- between me and the expanse of harbor:  the one I saw with my grandparents more than half a century ago, and with Bill and Cindy the other day.

Michael Goolaerts, R.I.P.

Professional athletes are usually young and in prime physical condition.  That is why almost nobody expects one to die while competing or training.

So it was for Michael Goolaerts.  The 23-year-old Belgian collapsed from cardiac arrest during Paris-Roubaix, the one-day race often dubbed "L'enfer du nord" (the Hell of the North).  

It was originally reported that Goolaerts crashed.  There are no images available, but more recent reports say that he was found on the side of a cobblestoned road, where he is believed to have fallen.  No other riders were found at the scene.  

From there, he was airlifted to a hospital in the northern French city of Lille where he died, surrounded by his family.

Current reports say that he died of cardiac arrest, which could easily explain his fall and why medical assistance was to no avail.  Unlike a heart attack, during which the heart to continues to beat, in cardiac arrest, the heart immediately stops pumping blood to the brain, lungs and other organs.  A heart attack requires prompt attention, while a cardiac arrest victim needs almost immediate help if he or she is to survive, let alone recover.

Another way that cardiac arrest differs from a heart attack is that the former comes without warning.  That is why we occasionally hear of athletes suddenly collapsing and dying, as Goolaerts seems to have done, and why it is so surprising.

I give my condolences:  I can hardly imagine the shock and grief his family, friends and colleagues in the cycling community are feeling.

On Their Own Planet

I was a child in 1968.  I might not have understood everything I saw on the evening news, but I knew it was a tumultuous time. (OK, I didn't know the word "tumultuous".)  As I mentioned the other day, Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated.  Robert F. Kennedy would meet a like fate two months later.  There were riots, demonstrations and strikes everywhere.

In the midst of it all, some of the cultural touchstones (and cliches) of the late 20th Century made their appearance.  Among them were two movies that became nearly all-purpose metaphors--2001: A Space Odyssey  and Planet of the Apes.

Both movies, er, films, made lots of money for their studios.  If you feel your reputation will be sullied by indulging in a taste for a mere movie, you can turn either into a film by reminding yourself that the music you hear when a chimp uses a shinbone to bash in the skull of a skeletal remain is Richard Strauss's Also Sprach Zarathrusta.  And, Planet of the Apes is based on a novel--namely Pierre Boulle's La Planete des Singes.

(I confess that I learned of the basis in the Boulle novel only recently--as in, about half an hour before I started writing this!)

Anyway...In honor of the 50th anniversary of Planet's first appearance on the big screen, I am offering this:

https://www.askideas.com/chimpanzee-riding-bicycle-funny-picture/

When Toys R Us Didn't Deliver, This Officer Did

Chances are that if you are reading this blog, you didn't purchase your bike at Toys R Us.

But you may have bought one for a daughter, son, grandchild, niece, nephew or other child in your life.  You will not be judged--by me, anyway--if you did.  After all, most such bikes are ridden into the ground, sometimes literally.

Of course, buying anything from Toys R Us is a risky proposition these days, as the chain has declared bankruptcy and is closing its stores.  But I suppose there are bargains to be had, and if you can get one, the risk just might be worthwhile.

(I think I still have a membership card I received when I bought a gift--not a bike!-- for someone's kid or another.  I don't know whether it would actually do me any good now!)

Well, in any event, it seems that when the ship is sinking, some crew members throw their scruples overboard.  That, at least, seems to have been the case in a Temperance, Michigan store.

Toledo police officer Daniel Henderson gives new bike to Haylee McClellan Rowe

Hayley McClellan Rowe bought a bike for her 10-year-old daughter, Shelbie, last month.  As she relates on Facebook, the bike was damaged during assembly.  She returned it and purchased another bike, which was to be assembled by store employees. The receipts for the return of the first bicycle and the purchase of the second were stapled to the box in which the second bike arrived.

When she went to pick up the bike, however, employees could not locate the receipts and the bike was sold to another customer.  Neither the store's management nor the company's offices helped her, even after they were contacted by The Blade of nearby Toledo, Ohio.

Among that city's police officers is a fellow named Daniel Henderson.  He saw Ms. McClellan Rowe's Facebook posts and helped her--and daughter Shelbie--in a way the law couldn't.

He bought her a new bike.

Ms. McClellan Rowe said when she calls the police, she expects help "with the situation at hand."  She did not, however, "expect him to purchase a bike out of his own pocket."

Neither did Toledo Police Chief George Kral.  "Officer Henderson went above and beyond the call of duty for this family, for this little girl," he said.

What--If Anything--Wii This Trade War Cost Us?

I passed the only economics course I took as an undergraduate by promising the professor that he would never, ever see me again if he gave me credit for the class.  If I were to fail, I warned him, I would be forced to take the class again and he might get stuck with me for another semester.

It worked.

Well, all right. It didn't quite go that way.  I passed the class, but I didn't make any such promises or threats.  I think the prof, though, realized that I had absolutely no talent for the subject to which he devoted his life and I wanted to return to school the following semester.  In short, he seemed to feel pity for me, and might've added, oh, a point or two to my final grade.

Anyway...The point of this is that I should not, under any circumstances, be mistaken for an economist.  And, no, I didn't play one on TV. (How does one play an economist on TV?)  So, take anything that resembles economic or business forecasting on this blog with a large bottle of frame prep solution.

As you all know, El Cheeto Grande is proposing tariffs on Chinese imports.  They are in retaliation for similar fees China imposed on imports from the US--which, in turn, were a reaction to earlier tariffs Trumpf slapped on Chinese goods.

The difference between the first and second round of Trump Tariff Punch is that the later round includes a greater number of products than the first, from which consumer goods were mainly absent and, instead, included farm products and basic materials such as steel.

Although details of the second round haven't been made public, some folks who know more than I know say that simply because the second round encompasses about twice as much of what the US imports from China (by monetary value), it's likely to include consumer goods.

As to which consumer goods might be affected:  No one has said outright that bicycles will be in the crosshairs, but it's hard to imagine that they won't be.  The tariffs might even include "bike-related imports", as more than one article put it.  

So, even if you don't buy a Chinese-made bike, there's a good chance that some of the accessories or parts you hang on it will have that tax levied on it.  For example, of my six bikes, four are British (Mercian), one American (Trek) and the other Japanese (Fuji).  I don't have any Chinese parts on them, and about the only accessories from China I use are the rack, lights and handlebar wrap on the Fuji. So, if I were to buy those things today, I wouldn't be affected much, if at all.  

But in spite of my efforts to buy from companies based and operating in countries where workers are paid decently and are guaranteed some basic human rights and protections, I find that I am not "innocent", if you will.  Turns out, my Giro helmets are made in the land of Leninist Capitalism.  So are my riding glasses, gloves and a few other things I use while riding.

What gets taxed, of course, will depend on how the categories of taxed goods are defined.  If there's a group called "bicycle-related goods", or something similar, watch out!  On the other hand, the law might specify certain categories of bicycles defined by price point or wheel size, as is done in places where there is a sales tax on new bicycle sales.  Naturally, none of us would like that tax, but at least you have a clearer idea of what will and won't be taxed.

Now, if this tariff were in the works during my youth, I would have scoffed:  "Well, I don't buy such crap bikes."  These days, though, it's hard to avoid buying Chinese unless you are shopping near the top of the price scale.  Some of those bikes and parts with familiar names you've long known may no longer be made in Europe or Japan or the USA--or even Taiwan.  They may be produced in Chinese factories.

My prediciton:  Some bikes and "bike-related products" will be affected.   But I think they will be a result of falling into larger categories of imports that are affected:  Somehow I don't think that the folks who are charged with turning El Huffy's Twitter storms into international trade law are thinking about bicycles in particular.