Riding Off With Perfect Attendance

The school year is ending for lots of kids.  Some of them will be rewarded for their academic, athletic, artistic and other achievements--or perfect attendance.

In my day, we got ribbons or medals--or "encouragement" from our teachers and parents. ("You're gonna do it again next year!")  A few kids I knew got material rewards like ice cream, a day at the movies or an amusement park, or even cash.  But 120 sixth-graders in Idaho will receive a prize many of us would have loved--a new bike.

Ryan Rogers, the owner of Rogers Toyota in Lewiston will be giving out the shiny new two-wheelers. The giveaway is part of a program called PASS, for Perfect Attendance Spells Success.  "We've been in business for 48 years," he explains, "and this is just one little thing we can do to give back to our schools and community."

I won't ask whether he sees the irony in an auto dealership giving away bicycles.  I'll just thank him for his generosity and wish he'd been in my neighborhood when I was in school!

If Not Justice, Then Strength. Or So One Hopes.

They were not looking for vengeance.  Instead, they sought justice.  But is it possible when five lives are ended, horribly and pointlessly, and survivors may nurse wounds for the rest of their lives?

Paul J. Bridenstine probably did the best he could under the circumstances.  On Monday, he sentenced Charles Pickett Jr. to 40 to 75 years in prison.  Given that he has already served 734 days (just over two years) and that he is 52 years old, Pickett won't be eligible for parole until he is 90.

What caused Bridenstine to mete out such a sentence?  Two years ago last week, Pickett--who was driving 58 MPH in a 35 MPH zone while under the influence--plowed into a group of cyclists out for their weekly social ride.  He didn't hit his brakes until he hit the first cyclist.

Last month, he was found guilty of five counts of second-degree murder and five of driving under the influence when he cut short the lives of Debra Ann Bradley, Melissa Ann Fevig-Hughes, Fred Anton "Tony" Nelson, Lorenz John "Larry" Paulik and Suzanne Joan Sippel in Kalamazoo, Michigan. In addition, he was convicted of four counts of driving while intoxicated and causing serious injury to Paul Gobble, Jennifer Johnson, Sheila Jeske and Paul Runnels.

At the sentencing hearing, Johnson spoke of how she lost one of her best friends, Fevig-Hughes.  She rides "only in a group" now.  "I find myself holding my breath as people pass."  Still, despite intense pain, she continues on, inspired by the strength of her friend.

In that sense, she is someone else who gave a moving statement:  Madeline Bradley, the daughter of Debra Ann.  She attended Michigan State University for a semester after her mother's death, she said, but remained "broken".  At first, she thought, nothing remained of her mother until she discovered her strength.  "She continues to protect me with this strength, her strength," she declared.

At least she has that, whether or not there is justice.

Accessorize!

I've known a few people who started riding their bikes to school or work when their cars broke down.  Two, I recall, couldn't afford to fix their motor vehicles, and one returned to driving after his car was up and running.   The other stuck with cycling to work but wanted to have as many comforts and conveniences on two wheels as he had with four.

What made me think of him for the first time in decades?  I think I've encountered (online, anyway) his distant cousin:  Robert Sept of Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Mr. Sept's car needed $2000 worth of transmission work. That motivated him to fix up his bicycle.  But he didn't stop with inflating his tires, oiling his chain or adjusting his gears or brakes. His wheels now roll with the weight of a DVD player, cell phone, cup holder, umbrella holder, storage boxes, wallet keeper, LED headlights and tailights--and other things he attached to his frame, handlebars and rear stays.

He seems quite happy with the results.  "It was a relatively cheap investment," he notes, "costs nothing but pedaling to operate [and] gets me from point A to point B." His bike is "noticeable" and "different,' he says  How different?  It "helps keep me out of the sun and weather."  I guess nobody can accuse him of being a fair-weather cyclist.

Now I wonder:  What kind of music does he play?