Out Of Season, All To Myself

Yesterday was unseasonably cool.  I didn't mind: it was good riding weather.  At times, though, it seemed as if the snow was covered with snow rather than clouds.

Under the blanket, but still cool all the way from the Rockaways to Coney Island.   Another way the day belied the season was the nearly complete absence of people on the boardwalks.

Even the bay, where I normally see at least a few boats, was abandoned.  Or, to look at it another way, I had everything else to myself.  I enjoyed it.

If You Get A Bike Named After You....

I suppose most of us want to be immortalized.  The problem is that, if we are, we probably don't have a say in why or how someone is perpetuating our memory.

So it is with the newest Trek model.  Now, I could understand why the company wouldn't name any of its products after Lance.  Yes, he's alive, but as we know, there are other reasons why a "Lance-strong" bike would be a public relations fiasco for the company.  I also see why they wouldn't want to name their bikes after any number of other cyclists--or celebrities-- living or dead.  

On the other hand, I can understand why Trek, or any other company, would name one of its wares after someone who never got anywhere near a bicycle.  I mean, there was even a whole bike brand--Hercules--named for a mythological hero.  The last person who actually believed in his existence died, probably, about two milennia before the first bicycle--however you define it--saw the light of day.  

Some Trek marketing genius probably figured that if bikes called Hercules could evoke images of that character's strength and fortitude, then a line of its bikes could surely trade on some other famous person's most notable physical trait--one that essentially became his metier.

And so we have Trek "Farley" bikes, named for the late comedian and actor Chris Farley.   His stock-in-trade was "fat guy" humor, which is not surprising given that he weighed about 400 pounds when he died in 1997.  Trek's new machines are--you guessed it--"fat" (i.e., fat-tire) bikes.  

Not surprisingly, his family is not happy about this.  They're not upset that he's still known as "the fat guy"--that will most likely remain his claim to fame--but that the company "misappropriated" his image.  According to a lawsuit the family filed, even though he turned his girth into his art, if you will, he "carefully guarded and policed his brand" and often rejected overtures from companies whom wanted to use it to sell their products.

Now, Trek might not be Apple or Microsoft, but I imagine they can hire some high-priced lawyers.  I am guessing they did:  Who else could challenge the lawsuit because it was filed in California, where Make Him Smile, the company his family formed to protect his rights and images is based.   That would subject the claim to California law.   Trek is trying to invalidate the family's claim by saying that it's invalid because Farley was a resident of Illinois, where he died of a drug overdose in Chicago.  

An irony of this case is that Trek could have named bikes after Farley for another, and possibly better (public-relations wise, anyway) reason:  He was born and raised in Madison, Wisconsin--about 30 miles from Trek's headquarters in The Badger State. 

Hmm...What if Trek decided to name its bikes for famous people from Wisconsin?  What would the Rod Blagojevich bike look like? 

There's A Bike Mechanic In The Family!

My high school had a vocational-technical ("vo-tech") program that trained students to work as auto mechanics, beauticians and as other skilled trades- and craft-people.

That high school served a fairly large township that included everything from mansions with Cadillacs in their driveways (In those days, you had as much of a chance, on any given day, of seeing a BMW or Mercedes as you did of meeting a member of the Royal Family.) to storm-battered bungalows with tousled kids tumbling on bristly lawns.  What they had in common was aspiration, whether from the parents or the kids themselves.  

Such aspiration wasn't limited to economic mobility:  People wanted to increase their status and reputation.  A decal from a prestigious college or university on the rear window of a family's car meant that the parents "did something right" in raising their child; dirty hands and clothes meant that the kid didn't work hard--or simply wasn't smart--enough and were seen as signs of poor parenting.

So, the success of my high school, and many others, was measured by the percentage of our graduates who went to college--never mind that the kids who became auto mechanics or plumbers or beauticians could make as much money as those who became educated professionals.  Training for one of those trades was seen as the "loser track", in contrast to "the college track" and other more prestigious paths in the school.

Because such scenarios played out all over the US, many high schools ended their vo-tech programs and new schools opened without them.  Young people and their families continued to equate success with graduating from college and entering white-collar professions.  In the meantime, auto mechanics, beauticians and the like got older and employers had a hard time finding replacements, just as those jobs became more technically sophisticated.  

Then college tuitions started to rise at a much faster rate than prices in general. (My salary hasn't kept pace--it's not even close!)  And companies figured out that their office work could be automated or relocated just as easily as assembly-line jobs.  So, the college degree that costs so much more than it once did is no longer the ticket to a "good" job and middle-class life it once was.

Also, because people had a harder time getting good jobs, they started fixing stuff--including cars and appliances-- they would have tossed or replaced earlier.  Now, as a result, some young people and their families are starting to realize that their may well be more of a future--especially for a kid who doesn't like to sit still and read--in the kinds of work people in my generation were taught to disdain.

Another result of what I've described is that people are riding bikes to work and school.  Those bikes need to be kept running, and not everyone has the time or inclination to adjust their brakes or shifters, or fix their flats.  At the same time, bikes are getting more technically sophisticated.  This means mechanics, who are increasingly referred to as "technicians" will need to be more skilled.

As a bike shop owner, Berri Michel is certainly aware of what I'm saying.  She had trouble finding good employees for Bicycle Trip, her Santa Cruz, California shop.  So she did what any desperate employer might do:  She trained people.  Specifically, she showed high-school students how to fix bikes.  That was back in 2007.

That was the beginning of Project Bike Tech, in which students earn academic credit for learning how to repair bicycles.  Since then, it has expanded to other schools in California and three other schools in Colorado and Minnesota plan to start similar programs soon.  The scope of the course, which spans four semesters, has also grown.  Now students learn interviewing, resume-writing and team-building techniques in addition to adjusting headsets and truing wheels.

Ms. Michel says that in the class, students are introduced to other bicycle-industry careers such as fabrication, marketing, sales and graphic design.  And, because students don't sacrifice their academic training to learn the bike trade, they are also ready to go to college or enter other careers when they graduate.  Some even pursue other trade careers like construction and auto mechanics because "they discover that they love working with their hands," says Project Bike Tech director Mercedes Ross.

Could the day come when parents proudly announce, "There's a bike mechanic in the family!"