Where They Bike More

 Would you bike more in Baltimore?

I would, if I ever get to "Charm City" again--especially after seeing this:

The folks at Bikemore are offering it.  What could possibly be a better name for a bicycle advocacy organization?

I wonder, though, whether they pronounce it as Bike-a-more?

Which Side Of The Gate?

 We are passing out of this year.  I don’t know many people who are sad to be leaving it, even with all of the uncertainty that lies ahead.

I know there are three more days left in this year after today.  Somehow, though, yesterday—the last Sunday of the year—felt more like the denouement.  In a normal year, not much happens during the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day.  Then again, what has been “normal” this year?

I thought about all of this while riding along the North Shore yesterday.  The funny thing is that I didn’t stop until near the end of my ride.  But I think you can see why I paused in Astoria Park, only a kilometer and a half from my apartment.

As I’ve mentioned in other posts, this bridge is called the Hell Gate Bridge, after the stretch of the (misnamed) East River it spans.

If that is indeed the Gate of Hell, which side of it are we on?

What Should They Be Trained To Do?

 Thirteen is a difficult age for almost anyone.  The body is going through all sorts of changes, so everyone and everything in the world seems capricious, unjust and even cruel.  Sometimes the anger you may have  felt at that age was justified, especially when you're mocked, bullied or punished for, well, being thirteen years old.

My family had recently moved. (I forgave my parents for that when I turned 40. ;-)) As if everything else I was experiencing weren't enough, that Christmas a recording that's still a hazard to my mental health polluted and smothered the airwaves.  Like many other people, I got a kick out of the novelty of dogs barking "Jingle Bells"  for about the first 15 seconds it played.

A few days ago, when I was running some errands, a store was blaring the barking monstrosity in the street.  I might get it out of my ear by Groundhog Day. Aargh!

These days, I own two Christmas CDs: Celine Dion's "These Are Special Times", which my mother gave me the year it came out, and an album of the late, great Jessye Norman's concert with the Orchestre de Lyon in the Notre Dame cathedral.  Other CDs of mine include a Christmas song or two, like John Lennon's "War Is Over."  But if anyone gave me a disc of the Singing Dogs, I'd use it for a coaster or frisbee.  Whoever made and promoted that recording should be indicted for animal abuse!

On the other hand, I want to applaud whoever created this image:

You can buy a print of this on Etsy