Cycling To School

Yesterday I wrote about a sight I saw on my way to school.  To work, actually, but since I was teaching, I guess I could say I was going to school on my bike.

Which is kind of ironic, in a way.  You see, when I was going to school--at least, in the way most people think of it--I didn't ride my bike there.  

From Department of Transport  (UK)

All through my years in elementary school, and into junior high, I lived in Brooklyn.  I was never more than four blocks, or about a third of a kilometer, from any school I attended.  The same was true for just about every one of my peers.  So, nearly all of us walked; a few--believe it or not--were driven.  There weren't any bike racks or other storage facilities where I learned (well, where someone tried to teach me, anyway) reading, writing, 'ritmetic and religion.  

In those days, one almost never saw bikes parked on the street:  When any of us rode, we brought our wheels into the park or into our homes (actually, the basements of our houses or apartment buildings). If we went into a candy store, we propped our bikes by the store; I don't recall anyone's bike being stolen.  (Yes, that was in Brooklyn!)

Even after we moved to New Jersey, we never had to travel far to sit in classes in which I daydreamed about being a girl while my male classmates were thinking about girls.  Maybe a few other kids rode bikes; you knew they were freshmen or sophomores because when they became juniors, they got their drivers' permits and didn't touch their bikes again.

So, I grew up thinking that all of the kids who rode their bikes to school were fresh-scrubbed, blue-eyed Midwesterners  (or, perhaps, Southerners) with blonde pigtails or crewcuts.  Of course, they all rode Schwinns that they got for their birthdays or Christmas and, even when after their bikes were passed on to younger siblings, they looked like they just came out of the showroom.

I didn't pedal to class until I was in college.   Even if I had a driver's license, I couldn't have driven:  Underclassmen weren't allowed to bring cars on campus.  That didn't matter, really, because if I took a class on the other side of town, or the river, I could get there faster than the students who took the campus buses.  And, most of the other things I needed were within easy walking or cycling distance.

The Dawn Of A New Semester

The college semester has begun.  I'm teaching a couple of early morning classes.  This morning, I went in about an hour early to post some materials I'm using in one class.  

There are a number of ways I can ride to work.  This morning, I decided to wend my way through an industrial area of Long Island City.

Now that I think of it, using "wend" and "industrial" in the same sentence seems almost contradictory.  But at the time I rode--about 6:30--there's almost no traffic.  It seems almost bucolic, in a weird sort of way.

And the light is not to be missed:

I wish I'd brought my camera:  I caught this image, such as it is, on my cell phone.  At least there's a glimmering of what I saw.

The Streets Are Their Stage

My mother is wonderful.  She has to be--after all, she raised me! ;-)  Anyone with the patience and fortitude to do that deserves nothing but affection and respect.

Still, if I were to become a mom--which, of course, is impossible unless I adopt or some major advancement in medicine comes along--I want to be like her:

Being a mom like her would mean having a kid like this one:

Both of them have such style:

 Their rear tire needs air. But we can forgive them that, right?

Of course, they are Keri Russell and her son River.  In these photos, they were coursing through Greenwich Village last October.