A Postcard: Forgiveness

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I sold Helene--the sloped top-tube Miss Mercian I stopped riding after I found Vera, my green Miss Mercian with twin-parallel top tubes.

Of course I felt sad:  She is beautiful and gave a more responsive ride than most "ladies'" bikes.  But I thought she deserved to be with someone who will appreciate her aesthetics as much as I did but would ride her more.

Also, as I mentioned, I have just bought a Mercian Vincitore Special, which according to Mercian's timetables, should be ready in March--which is fine, because it will be a gift to myself for a round-number birthday I will celebrate that July.  Of course, the money I got for Helene doesn't come close to paying for the Vincitore.  But I was able to strip  Helene for some parts I will use on the Vincitore.  

And, I tell myself, she's in a better place now. (Wait, that's not what I meant.)  Well, she is in a more exotic place, with someone who has promised to both treasure and ride her.

Although I'm not remorseful, I'm shedding an extra tear or two after receiving this:

Dearest Justine

I have had a horrible time but I feel safe again now but I have strange feelings and memories of when I was first made, could it be the voices and the cool weather? There is a nice lady who tells me she will look after me now and be my new Ms tress… She read me some thing she said that you wrote about why I am here. There have been worries about not being your favourite ever since that classy older girl came into your life, how could I ever compete? There were many lonely days hanging about hoping for a good long ride out in the fresh air but it was not to be.

When you started to take parts off me I first thought that I was going to be made smarter and more desirable then suddenly I was wrapped up in the dark, being shaken about and not knowing what was going to happen to me. Then my new Ms tress told me that I was held to ransom and kept for five more days waiting before being brought to my new home. My new Ms tress said that you must still love me quite a lot because you packed me up so carefully and made me very cosy for my journey, she loves the little present which you slipped in with me.

Wherever this is it is very nice, not as tidy as your home but here I can go out in the garden and be in the sunshine. There are some other bikes which live here with me, not from the same family as they were with you but an interesting mix. They are all a lot older than me, one is very smart, all black and silver with shiny new wheels, very elegant, she does not seem to have a name. There is a red and creamy white racy looking runabout called Viking who says that she could lend me her wheels until I find some new ones of my own. A small wheeled folding Dahon like the one I have heard you say was horrible has offered to let me have her springy Brooks saddle, she is close friends with an even smaller wheeled and much older maroon Moulton who wishes she could fold too but can’t. Upstairs where I have not been there are two others which are not completely working at the moment, I hope they are not jealous because I have heard that I shall be back on the road long before them.

It is so quiet here, most of the noise is birds flying about looking for food for their screeching chicks. They do not have cats in the house here but many sneak through the garden trying to catch the birds, I wish I had a bell to warn them.

The one thing which confuses me is that my new Ms tress tells me that I am really a Ms Mercian and my name is Justine! This could all be a strange dream but really I think I want it all to be true.

Your forgiving Helene.

I forget who said that forgiveness is the aroma the flower gives off when you crush it.  Somehow, I think that fits Helene very well!

Mickey Johnson: Father, Friend And Pillar Of His Community

I know that, lately, I've portrayed Florida as a "killing field" for cyclist.  Such a reputation is not undeserved; after all, it has, by far, the highest per-capita cyclist mortality rate of any US state.

Also, I am angry about the way authorities in the Sunshine State handled the case of Alan Snel, the author of Bicycle Stories.  In brief, a driver who may or may not have been impaired by his medications drove straight into Alan's back and got off scot-free.

Well, today I want to point out something local police in at least one community are doing right--and praise the way the local media are portraying the cyclist.

As I have said in a  previous post, few non-cyclists will care about the often-cavalier treatment we get when we are victimized by errant, careless or impaired motorists as long as we are seen as abstractions or monsters--cyclists or cyclists!--and are instead recognized as siblings, parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, spouses, lovers or loved ones, friends, colleagues, co-workers and members of our communities, whatever those may be.

Thankfully, the Sarasota Herald-Tribune has portrayed Mickey Johnson in such a way--in a headline, no less:  "Victim in Bicycle Crash Was Family Man."  The article, written by Earle Kimel, mentioned Mr. Johnson's extended family and deep ties to his community, where he lived for nearly four decades, or half of his life.  He started two businesses, heading both of them until the day he died. He was also a member of Friends of the Legacy Trail, Volunteer of the Year with the Manasota Track Club and served on several boards of his church.  If all of that doesn't spell "pillar of the community," I don't know what does.  

Oh, and he was an Army veteran.  

Mickey Johnson

Now, of course, I didn't see the crash, but Kimel seems to have given a sober, unbiased account.  Although he doesn't directly place blame, he does show how driver Anthony Alexander and his passenger, Dillon Cooper, tried to impede the invstigation, which is being treated as a traffic homicide.  Both have been arrested and, so far, Alexander has been charged with driving with a suspended license and causing death. Both men have also been charged with perjury and obstructing a criminal investigation/giving false information to a police officer. (Cooper initially said he was the driver, which was contradicted by witness accounts.)  Further charges may be pending.

From what I've read, the only real fault I can find is the relatively low bond:  $3500 for Alexander and $2000 for Cooper.  Then again, I know nothing else about their circumstances, so those amounts may indeed be enough to deter the from taking flight.

Anyway, there is nothing that can, for his family and community, make up for Mickey Johnson's loss.  But, so far, the local authorities are doing a better job of investigating and prosecuting it than their counterparts in Florida have done in other recent cases of motorists running down cyclists.

Seven Years--But No Itch!

OK...So you are probably asking yourself what the most famous scene from The Seven Year Itch is doing on a blog about bicycles and bicycling.

Or maybe you're not.  Maybe you don't mind seeing it any time, anywhere.  I mean, how many people really and truly object to seeing an image of Marilyn Monroe, ever---especially this one?

Well, that scene comes from The Seven Year Itch.

No, I am not suffering from it.  For one thing, I'm not in a relationship with anyone, so I am not feeling "itching" to get out of it, or to "spice things up" with someone else.

Now, I must admit:  I had Helene, the Miss Mercian I recently sold, for nearly seven years.  I wasn't bored or dissatisfied with her:  I merely wasn't riding her much, and thought she would be happier elsewhere.  I was a little sad to see her go, but I think it's for the best, as I have Vera (my green Miss Mercian mixte) and have ordered a Mercian Vincitore Special.

And, no, I am not feeling a seven-year itch about this blog, either.  Today is indeed its seventh anniversary:  I posted my first entry on 2 June 1010.  

At that time, I was just returning to cycling after a layoff of several months, during which I was recuperating from surgery.  I had been keeping another blog, on which I once posted almost daily but for which I have not written anything in months. 

That other blog witnessed its seventh anniversary nearly two years ago.  You might say that I was getting a "seven year itch" with that blog:  I knew, then, that I was getting tired of the topic of that blog and I didn't like the directions in which it could have gone.  

On the other hand, I feel more and more energized to write on this blog.  Perhaps I am not feeling a "seven year itch" over this one because, for one thing, I have been a cyclist for most of my life and bicycles still fascinate me.  Another reason, I believe, is that I seem to have a more numerous and wider audience for this blog than my other--and I feel I have gained a clearer sense of who you are. (I have even corresponded with a few of you off-blog.)   And, the longer I write this blog, the more I find I can relate other things in my life--my work (what I get paid to do), my experiences and my other passions--to cycling.  Or, sometimes, I find I can get away with writing about them on this blog even if they have no apparent relation to cycling.  

Anyway, I thank all of you for reading my stories, rants, rambles, musings and other writings on this blog.  And I hope you will continue with me on this journey of cycling, in the middle of my life.