What Are They Really Trying To Stop?

Is it really a public-safety issue?

Nithya Raman thinks not.  She joined three fellow Los Angeles City Council members in voting against a motion to draft a law that would prohibit the repair or sale of bicycles on city sidewalks.  

But ten other councilmembers, including mayoral candidate Joe Buscaino, out-voted them.  One of their reasons, they claim, is that the folks who fix or sell bikes create hazards by blocking the sidewalks.  While that is a legitimate concern, Raman thinks it's not the real reason for the motion.  After all, as she points out, there is already an ordinance against unnecessary obstruction of sidewalks.

Those "no" voters also don't believe another stated reason for the motion, voiced by Busciano:  It would be a way of combating bike theft.

That claim is specious at best and simply dishonest bigoted at worst.  

While some of the bikes might well be stolen, that is usually impossible to prove because, for one thing, many thefts go unreported.  Perhaps more important, most stolen bikes are never seen or heard from again by their owners or anyone else.  Part of the reason for that is that bikes are often end up in "chop shops."  But another, and possibly more important reason, is that most law enforcement agencies simply don't take bike theft seriously.

I think the real reason anyone is calling for a law against repairing or selling bikes on sidewalks is that many who engage in such activities are un-housed*--and people of color.  The bikes are usually fixed and sold where those people live--under bridge and highway underpasses, for example.  One of those denizens, Denise Johnson, points out that many of those bikes--like the ones her husband assembles and she sells--are built and fixed from salvaged bikes and parts.  

Denise Johnson, with bike frame and parts her husband will assemble.  Photo by Genaro Molina, for the Los Angeles Times. 

She might've echoed what Pete White, the executive director of Los Angeles Community Action Network, said about the proposed ban.  He believes it's "a facial attempt to declutter 'targeted sidewalks' but whose real goal is to banish homeless people from their community."  In other words, it's a version of the now-discredited "broken windows" philosophy of crime-fighting.  

The most obvious explanation for the motion is political:  It's hard not to think that Buscaimo is using it to score points in his mayoral campaign.  The cynic in me says that it's another way for the police to avoid actually dealing with bike theft as the serious crime it is. (The monetary value of some bikes alone should merit attention; more important is that, for many owners, our bikes are as important as cars and other vehicles are to their owners.)  Also,  I can't help but to think that it's a way for law-enforcement to go after the "low-hanging fruit" of cyclists and un-housed people:  It's easier to demand proof that someone  owns the bike on which they're fixing a flat, or to chase people who sleep in bus shelters, than it is to go after a motor-scooter or car driver who runs red lights or hedge funds that operate "dark stores." 

*--Herein, I will no longer refer to people who live on streets or in other public places as "homeless."  The bridge, highway and trestle underpasses, bus shelters and other places where they sleep and keep their stuff are, in essence, their homes.  It can thus be argued that many such people have formed communities of one kind or another.

Great Chain Robbery

 Just after Hurricane Katrina, I talked with Bill Laine, the now-retired owner of New Orleans-based Wallingford Bikes.  

Katrina devastated the city, prompting an unprecedented total evacuation. Some folks defied the order and took advantage of the desolation by looting homes, stores and warehouses.

Bill explained that his business was spared because, he thought, thieves probably were looking for bikes but found saddles (The biggest part of their trade was in Brooks), bags and other parts and accessories.

These days, thieves know better. COVID-19 pandemic-induced shortages have affected bike parts as well as complete bikes.  One result has been a spike in bike thefts as well as burglaries and robberies of bike shops. 

Some seemingly-professional thieves in Germany have moved up the food chain, if you will. As a truck driver took a break at a rest stop, a well-organized gang released sleeping gas into the vehicle’s cab and raided the trailer filled with Shimano parts destined for BFI, the Czech Republic’s largest bike producer.

One particularly disturbing aspect of this crime, as a BFI spokesperson explained, is that it seemed to be intricately pre-planned to the point that “in all likelihood, the truck had been followed from the time it was loaded.” Also alarming is that the thieves knew what they were looking for: They left nine boxes of low-end parts but took the more expensive components.

This story reminds me of something I reported when I was writing for local Queens and Brooklyn newspapers:  Car thieves were turning their attention away from luxury vehicles in affluent neighborhoods to good, solid everyday cars like the Toyota Camry in middle- and working-class neighborhoods.  Those cars were targeted because they proved more lucrative when sold to “chop shops” for parts.

A Guide Against The Wind

Yesterday afternoon I had some time.  There were things that had to be done, but as long as they got done when they needed to be done, it wouldn't matter when I started working on them.  I guess that's a definition of having, if not free, then flexible time.

Since you're reading this blog, you know what I did.  Of course.  This time, though, an hour or two in early-to-mid-afternoon stretched into, well, very late afternoon. That may have had to do with having the wind at my back and mild (at least in comparison to the past week or so) temperatures as I pedaled down through Queens to Rockaway Beach.  

Of course, when I'm riding with the wind, I know that I'll have to pedal against it to get home.  But I was feeling so good that I just wanted to keep on going.  Which I did---to Point Lookout.  

I hadn't planned to go swimming.  Still, it was a bit of a surprise to see the beach closed, even if it was for work to ensure that the beach is still there in the future.  

So I hung out for a bit by the bocce court.  In contrast to the boardwalks of the Rockaways, Atlantic Beach and Long Beach, where I saw more people than I expected, I had the court and playground all to myself.

By the court, there are stones commemorating family messages and with messages of hope.  I couldn't help but to notice the juxtaposition of these stones:

The one on the left reads, "Mangia bene, Ridi spesso, Ama molto"--Eat well, laugh often, love much. Will those things lead to, or result from, the top-notch lawn care in the slate on the right.  

Even though I was pedaling along a route I've ridden many times before, I felt as if I were being guided to, or through, something--the wind that had grown stiffer, perhaps--along the Rockaway Boardwalk.

As I photographed sun rays coruscating through clouds, I chanted some lines from the Sardinian writer Salvatore Quasimodo:  

M'illumno 

d'immenso.

Maybe that should be engraved in one of those stones by the bocce court on Point Lookout.