I am not the first person to say this: Donald Trump's promise to "Make America Great Again" doesn't hold up because, well, America was never great. No nation ever has been. A few have been powerful and influential. But great, no.
A nation should not be confused with a culture or people. Whether or not a culture is great is open to interpretation. Every nation, however, has at least one interesting or even inspiring culture: That is the reason why I have taken trips to France, Cambodia and other places.
Even though nations aren't great, and even if cultures might or might not be great, within each of them there have been great human beings. Of course, most of us might be seen as great by some people, but not others. There are a few, though, who are undeniably great.
Today is a holiday to commemorate one of them. Although his actual birthday came last Tuesday, his "birthday" is celebrated on the third Monday of every January. I am talking, of course, about Martin Luther King Jr. Whether or not you agree with the ways in which he tried to achieve his goals, it cannot be denied that this country, and this world, are better for his having been part of them.
Here he is, on Fire Island, just off Long Island, seven months before he was assassinated:
If you were young, had cash to burn and wanted to believe you were tougher than you actually were, you drove a Hummer.
Styled after a military vehicle, the first Hummer rolled off the assembly line in 1992. Fittingly, Arnold Schwarznegger bought it: He was the one who lobbied American Motors Corporation, who'd been making Hummers (then known as Humvees) for the US Armed Forces, to offer them to civilians.
The pseudo-tank was a cash cow for AMC and, later, for General Motors, who bought the brand in 1998. It also helped to enrich the coffers of petroleum companies (and a few despots) because one gallon of gasoline would propel it for only ten miles.
Of course, those are the reasons why the brand tanked (pardon the pun) when the world's economy crashed and oil prices spiked. A couple of years ago, while on a ride, I saw the first Hummer I'd seen in years. Even in its bright yellow finish, it looked like a dinosaur to me.
Where are the Hummers now? Are they in junkyards and other landfills with other motor vehicles?
Wherever they are, bicycles from that same period are still rolling along.
This rider is even stronger than I ever was. I mean, I've carried all sorts of things on my bike, but not a car(cass).
What I am about to say is not a boast; it's a fact.
I don't know anyone who owns or rides a mixte frame as nice as Vera, my Mercian. And the only person I know who rides a full-on women's frame (in which the top tube is dropped even further than the twin parallel tubes on the mixte) is Coline, who sometimes comments on this blog. And I know her women's bike is as good as Vera because a.) it's a Mercian and b.) I used to own it. I sold it to Coline only because I prefer the style of the mixte.
Truly high-quality mixte or women's bikes have long been relatively rare. In France and other countries, stylish and utilitarian bikes that don't have the "diamond" ("men's") configuration are relatively common. Some are very good, but rarely does one see such a bike with a frame constructed of Reynolds, Columbus or Vitus tubing, or with components that rise above mid-level (though they are, for the most part, at least serviceable). Certainly, one almost never see mixte or women's bikes that rise to the level of the best diamond-frame racing or touring bikes.
Such bikes have always been even rarer in the US--and they were probably rarer yet in 1951, during what Sheldon Brown has called "the dark ages" of cycling in America. Who would have made such a machine?
One answer: Emil Wastyn--or his son, Oscar. If that name rings a bell, you are: a.) my age or older; b.) know more about the history of cycling in the US than 99.99 percent of the population; c.) are a Schwinn geek or, d.) are from Chicago.
The bike in the photos isn't a Schwinn, but it could have been. Oscar Wastyn built it. His father is the one who convinced Frank Schwinn that his company should build top-of-the-line racing and touring bikes at a time when enthusiasm for six-day races (which basically kept racing alive in the US during the Great Depression) was waning and the world was on the brink of war. Those high-end Schwinns, known as the Paramount line, were built by the Wastyns from the marque's inception in 1938 until 1955.
Until the 1960s or thereabouts, the Paramount was the only true high-performance racing or touring bike built in the US, save for the few that were made by a handful of regional builders (mainly for the small-but-active cycling scenes in places like New York, Chicago, Boston and, ironically, Detroit). Certainly, the Paramount was the only high-quality US-built bike one could buy or order from a local dealer anywhere in the US.
From what I can see in the photos, the workmanship on the frame is meticulous and in keeping with the style of the times. I don't know which tubing was used to make it, but I suspect that it was either Accles and Pollock (used on the original Paramounts) or Reynolds, which Wastyn would use when Accles and Pollock stopped making bicycle tubing.
Also in keeping with the period is the Sturmey Archer three-speed hub. American cycling at the time was, not surprisingly, influenced by the British, who had yet to embrace the derailleur for their high-speed and long-distance machines. And, of course, the fenders and chainguard would have been found on any bike, no matter how high its quality, that wasn't a dedicated racer.
As for other parts on the bike, they are typical of the period--save, perhaps, for the front hub and cranks, both of which are "Paramount", the same ones used on Wastyn's bikes bearing that name. To my knowledge, Paramounts from that period are the only American bikes besides those made by the aforementioned small builders (such as Dick Power and George Omelenchuk) to use three-piece cottered cranks. Cotterless cranks were still relatively new and expensive, and were still not seen as durable or reliable as their cottered counterparts. The front hub looks much like Campagnolo and other racing hubs of its time.
I don't know who bought that bike for whom: Few American adults, and even fewer American adult women, were riding bikes--let alone top-quality ones--in 1951. Whoever bought it, though, had taste and whoever rode it did so in style.
