Permission To Roam

My orthopedic doctor and the Texas governor said, basically, the same thing yesterday.

Now, I don't  know much about my doctor's politics, but he probably has never thought about Greg Abbott in his life. So how could they have echoed each other?

Well, the Governor told businesses in his state that, starting next week, restaurants and other businesses can open fully.  "People want to go back to living," he said.  He's declared that they can.  

My doctor gave me the same permission.  He confirmed what I suspected:  My injuries from getting "doored" are healed, save for two still-visible scars.  They'll take "about a year" to disappear, he said.  In the meantime, I could use a skin ointment, but if I should I should "be careful" because I have sensitive skin.  Looking at my helmet, he grinned and crooned, "Enjoy."

It's been more than a month since I did two of my regular long rides (Connecticut and Point Lookout).  The reason is not my injuries:  rather, it's the snow and ice that's covered many of the roads.  Also, Marlee seems to be guided by her animal instinct to hibernate and takes any chance she can to curl up on me and doze.  She's so cute, and calms me as much as a meditation or therapy session, that I want to stay with her.

I want to get out because, even on rides I've done dozens of times before, I notice something or another that previously escaped my attention--or wasn't there. During my ride to the doctor's office, a traffic light stop at Third Avenue and 17th Street brought this into my view:

I hadn't been inside that building in years--or looked at its exterior.  Whenever I entered, I listened to music or poetry.  I don't know whether its architectural details were covered, or perhaps I just hadn't noticed them because I always arrived at night, when throngs of people fronted and filled it.

Perhaps I will always think of that building--as long as it's still there--Fat Tuesday's, the jazz club/performance space that occupied it for years.  It closed around 15 years ago, when the changes I've witnessed in this city accelerated.  After that, it was occupied by a variety of venues, including a yoga and Pilates studio.

But, as you can see, the designers and builders of the edifice probably didn't envision any of the venues I--or most people living today--associate with it. Constructed in 1894-95, it originally served as a restaurant and beer garden.  The latter is not surprising when you realize that the surrounding neighborhood--Gramercy Park/Irving Place--was, at the time, said to be the home of more Germans than any place outside of Europe.  

The building would later host the German-American Athletic club and the German-American Rathskeller.  Given this history, it's makes sense that it's named for Joseph Viktor von Scheffel, a German poet and novelist.  

I don't know what "Allaires" refers to.  Ironically, when I first saw that name, I thought of a village in Brittany, France (through which I've biked) and a park in New Jersey where I biked, hiked and camped as a teenager.  That park was named for James Allaire, who owned an ironworks and village on the site.  The metal produced there was shipped to Allaire's factory in this city, where parts for steam ships were made.  He had a home on Cherry Street, about a mile from Scheffel Hall, so it's possible that his family owned all or part of the building or businesses that were in it.

One more thing:  Given the building's literary and artistic associations, it's not surprising that O.Henry wrote some of his stories--and set one of them, "The Halberdier of the Little Rheinschloss" in Scheffel Hall.

Anyway, as you can see, I didn't need permission from a doctor or governor to go back to doing the things I normally do:  cycling and learning about whatever I see along the way.  Marlee doesn't always approve, but, hey, nobody's perfect!

Painting--And Cycling--En Plein Air

 On a recent post, Coline commented, "Cycling helps clear thinking" and "opens the mind to exploration."

It also sparks creativity.  Lewis Williams understands this as well as anybody does.  For his 60th birthday, the Montrose, Colorado-based artist wanted to "rattle the cage a bit" to "see what would his shake out."  So, he decided to combine one of his preferred methods of working--plein-air painting--with his love of being outdoors and bicycling.

Yesterday, he embarked from San Diego on a cross-continental cycling trip.  He plans to arrive in Bar Harbor, Maine during the first week of August.  Along the way, he'll ride two historic trails, he says.  And he plans to paint outdoors, in the open air (the meaning of "plein air") along the way.  After that, he plans to participate in the Plein Air painting competition of the Red Rock Arts Festival.  

His wife is accompanying him on this journey, he says.

I know how difficult it is to carry cameras and multiple lenses--not to mention other photographic equipment--on a bike, especially if you're carrying camping equipment and clothing for a multi-day tour.  I imagine that it's so much more difficult for a painter to carry supplies.  So, he outfitted a van for camping and attached a trailer to carry his art-related necessities.  

The purpose of the vehicle is not just as a "sag" wagon one sometimes sees on organized rides.  Williams says that if any of his riding or painting takes longer than he anticipated, he and his wife will "mix up the riding with the driving" as needed.

This tour is an extension of an ethos he lives by:  "Find creative outlets in your life."  He, who has worked with senior citizens, believes that people are "not too old to do what they want to do or try something new." Why else would he embark on such a journey for his 60th birthday?

Mayor Pete Might Master This

Should cycling proficiency be required of anyone who would lead a transportation organization?

Most readers of this blog would answer "yes!"  My own unbiased (wink, wink) opinion would incline me to agree.  But some would disagree; not so long ago, most people would have.  I think one's answer depends on whether one sees bicycling as a form of transportation; although the number of people who see it that way is increasing, there are still many who see cyclists as young people with a sense of entitlement.  Those, I believe, are among the people who are upset whenever a bike lane "takes" "their" parking spaces.

While we're talking about definitions: If the director of a transportation organization or agency should exhibit cycling proficiency, what, exactly constitutes it?  I think most of us would agree that Pete Buttigeg, the Secretary of Transportation doesn't have it, at least judging from the video from which this still is taken:

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To be fair, he even joked about his cycling skills, or lack thereof.  But we all know that time and practice makes you more proficient and savvy.

That last sentence, by the way, can apply to his political aspirations.  When he ran in last year's Democratic Party primaries, he was younger and less experienced than the other candidates.  I think that he'll run again and, possibly, win in 2028--when he'll be about the same age as Obama, Clinton and JFK were when they entered the White House.  And maybe, just maybe, Pete will ride to his inaugural--and look good doing it!