From The Heights To The Cutoff—And Joe

Sometimes, when I ride through the industrial areas of Queens and Brooklyn, I feel like an archaeologist.

Tuesday afternoon I took Negrosa, my vintage Mercian Olympic, for a spin along some landmarked blocks in central Brooklyn.  I hadn’t planned to ride anywhere in particular; I just found myself spinning my pedals out that way.  

Brooklyn has, probably, the greatest concentration—and some of the best examples—of brownstone houses. Long-since-gentrified (and bleached, if you know what I mean) neighborhoods like Park Slope and Carroll Gardens regularly (during non-pandemic times) witness throngs of architecture students and tourists savoring the details of those buildings.  But some equally-beautiful areas like Stuyvesant Heights are less known because they are “off the beaten path. Stuyvesant Heights is still mainly an African- and Caribbean-American neighborhood.  Hmm...Could that be a reason why tourists (or White New Yorkers, except for those in the know) don’t beat a path to it?

These houses on Decatur Street have details even more intricate than what I saw every day when I was living in “the Slope.” 

I would love to see this neighborhood to keep the characteristics—including some interesting shops and cafes—that make it worth seeing.  But I hope it doesn’t turn into a masoleum, I mean museum or, worse, a Brownstone Theme Park.

Likewise, I could see this railroad underpass—under which I passed on my way home—turning into what many of us hoped the High Line would become.  The Montauk Cutoff, as it’s called, bears striking resemblances to The High Line before it became  catwalk for the well-heeled high-heeled:  Like the HL about 20 years ago, the MC is a weed-grown railroad right-of-way previously used by freight trains making deliveries to and from an old industrial area that’s starting to de-industrialize.

As I understand, the MC belongs to the Long Island Rail Road. (Yes, the LIRR still spells “Rail Road” as two words, just as they did in 1834!) Some reports say the Rail Road wants to add some trackage and connect it to their recently-expanded Sunnyside Yards.  Others say it’s structurally unsound and will be torn down.  Then there are stories that some city or state agency or investors want to acquire it and create a High Line, especially since some of the industrial sites could become upscale residential and commercial areas.

Me, I’d love for it to become a High Line for the people. It would include a bike lane (of course!), green spaces and art studios, galleries, craft shops, educational centers and cafes that could represent the many communities of Queens, the most culturally and linguistically diverse county in the United States, if not the world.

(Examples of the diversity include members of Central American indigenous groups who may or may not speak Spanish and Africans who might speak Wolof or some other native language and practice a religion far older than Christianity or Islam.)

Hmm...If someone takes me up on my idea, there might be a plaque or something with my name and likeness. Perhaps someone would look at it and wonder who, exactly, Justine was

just as I wonder what happened to Joe, or whether Marty and Janet stayed together. I mentioned these bits of graffiti on the Review Avenue wall of the Calvary Cemetery eight years ago.  I first saw it many years ago—if I recall correctly, with my family, on our way to visit relatives who were living in Queens.

I never know what I’ll unearth on a ride!

It's Come Here, It's Come To This

Every country I have visited, with the possible exception of Canada, has experienced a revolution, uprising, coup d'etat or other violent attempt to unseat a sitting government or prevent a new government from seating itself.  In some of those countries, like Cambodia and Laos, people are still living with the aftermath--which is sometimes quite visible--of those uphevals.  And, for a time, I lived in a country that had one of the most famous coups of all:  The first time I walked around the Place de la Concorde in Paris, I tried to imagine it covered in blood spilled from the guillotines set up where the famous obelisks stand.

Now, I have participated in a few demonstrations in my time.  We were agitating for change that, we felt, wasn't coming from elected leaders or institutions.  But I never, at any time, threw my lot in with any person or group who tried to violently overthrow a duly-elected government or inflict harm on any person.  I am, I guess, a product of a country where things haven't been done that way.

Until yesterday, that is.  Most people, including the actual and self-appointed pundits in the media, believe that the mobs who stormed the Capitol won't succeed in their efforts to keep the results of the election from being ratified and President-elect Joe Biden from being inaugurated.  My guess is that they're right, but I don't think we should see such an outcome as guaranteed.  

The thing is, while their actions may have been an inevitable outcome of what President Trump and his supporters have done--and, worse, condoned--they weren't normal, at least in one sense.  Most other uprisings and revolutions are a result of deprivation:  as one of Bob Marley's reminds us in Them Belly Full , "A hungry mob is an angry mob."  More precisely, the violence is a reaction to someone in power saying, whether with their words or actions, "Qu'ils mangent de la brioche."

One thing that makes yesterday's riot--and, more accurately, rioters--different is that they're not revolting against a government that's in power.  They are trying to prevent a newly-elected government from taking power.  At least, that's their ostensible purpose. But their real anger rages against what they perceive to be the real power:  a left-liberal conspiracy in the media, academic world, governments and the world economy (globalism).  And they see, however inaccurately, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris as its proxies.

Photo by Erin Schaff, from The New York Times blog

The other difference between them and earlier revolutionaries is that they're not hungry, at least not in the physical sense.  At least, my guess is that most of them aren't:  The really hungry people are too overworked or too beaten down to do what yesterday's protesters did.  Rather, they are resentful (which, it can be argued, is a kind of spiritual starvation) of people who are blacker, browner, gayer or in any other way different--and therefore, in their eyes, the beneficiaries of unfairly acquired privilege.  The guy won't wear a mask believes that his job is in jeopardy because of a woman in a hijab and that his safety is in danger from another woman who wrapped herself and her children in a shawl after a coyote left them in the desert night.  

The assault in the Capitol is a developing story and I realize that by the time you read this, new details will have emerged and some parts of this post might be out of date.  But I felt the need to say something about it because my cycling journeys have taken me to places that experienced what I never thought--until recently--would happen here in the US.  

Reflecting Phantoms and Sting Rays

Some Christians celebrate today, the 6th of January, as the Epiphany.  It's the day after the Twelfth Night of Christmas, so this day is often regarded as the end of the Christmas season.

While some folks take down their Christmas trees and decorations the day after the holiday, or on New Year's Day, I've known many others who put away their holiday decorations on this date.  Also, many decorations in public places like shopping malls and town squares are removed on or around this date.

Such places include the Atlas Park, about 10 kilometers from my apartment.  It's an open-air mall very similar in design to European Village of Palm Coast, Florida.  Both opened around the same time:  just in time for the financial crisis of 2007-2008.  But while EV was built on previously undeveloped land, AP was constructed on the site of Atlas Terminal Industrial Park, which once housed General Electric, Kraft, Westinghouse and New York Telephone as well as other manufacturers.

I don't know whether any Christmas decorations were ever made there.  In the confines of ATIP, however, a company made functional objects that could have served as tree or window ornaments:

If you're of, ahem, a certain age, you might have ridden a bike equipped with those reflectors.  You might still have them, or these:

Gulco "6 pie" reflector, above and below.

6

Schwinns and other bikes from the 1940s through the 1970s came with Gulco reflectors.  Sometimes the company's information was engraved on the metal backing:  Charles Gulotta Company (hence Gulco) of Glendale, New York.  

We all know that modern reflectors and lights do their jobs better than their earlier counterparts.  But you have to admit, those old lights and reflectors had style, or at least character, you just don't find in the new stuff.

Bikes from the 1940s and 1950s used the "bubble" or "jewel" reflectors, while Sting Rays and "muscle" bikes from the 1960s and 1970s came with "2 pie" or "6 pie" reflectors.   All fetch premium prices on eBay.  So does the special bracket that attached "6 pie" reflectors to "banana" seats on Sting Rays.

The small "jewel" reflectors were sometimes attached to the end of leather strips wrapped around hub shafts.  Hipsters and other urban fixed-gear riders sometimes replicate those "hub shiners" on their new machines.

Gulotta/Gulco didn't make reflectors only for bicycles.  The smaller ones were often used to attach license plates to cars and motorcycles; other "shiners" were also found on boats, trucks and other vehicles.

During the 1970s, Japanese bicycles found popularity among American cyclists.  Much about them was equal or superior to their American and European counterparts:  the lug work was often cleaner (at least on the lower- and middle-priced bikes), the SunTour and Shimano derailleurs were easier to shift and more precise and the bikes  represented better overall values for the money.  The Cateye reflectors that came with Fujis, Nishikis, Miyatas and other Japanese bikes were brighter, lighter in weight and sturdier (or at least less delicate).

I tried to obtain information on how long Gulotta/Gulco continued to manufacture.  All I could find were reports that "Charles Gulotta Co Inc" was first registered as a business name in 1925; a trademark application was filed in 1960, approved the following year and renewed in 1981 and "dead/cancelled" in 2002.  So, my guess is that Gulotta/Gulco was making reflectors--though, possibly, not bike-specific ones--into the 1980s, and possibly the 1990s.  By 2000, Atlas was no longer functioning as an industrial facility.

If you're restoring a Schwinn Phantom or Sting Ray, it simply wouldn't be complete without the right reflector--made in my neighborhood, more or less!