Yes, We Are Asking For Trouble--As She Defines It

Bicycling has heightened my sense of social justice, I believe.  Perhaps that has to do with the fact that cyclists come from literally all parts of society and ride for all sorts of reasons, whether out of necessity, for pleasure or fitness, or to make a statement.  

Likewise, being a transgender woman has, I believe, sensitized me to what some other opressed groups of people endure.  When I talk to Black people or read their accounts of being told that they're "whining" or "exaggerating" when they related the micro- and macro-aggressions they endure--or, worse, are told, openly or implicitly, that they were "looking for trouble" when they complained or "brought it on themselves" for not being, in essence, one of the "good ones"--I at least empathise with them.

In other words, I know what it's like to be told that you're to blame for whatever happens to you because you are what you are by people who would never be held to account for their indiscretions, let alone misdeeds.  To wit:   Someone can drive while texting, or gun through a red light, but the cyclist that driver hits or runs over will be blamed for the "accident."

And now we learn that on "Britain's Got Talent," English men and women have the opportunity to show that they have just as much talent as folks on the other side of the pond for clueless meanness or mean cluelessness.  Amanda Holden, who seems to be Albion's answer to one of the Kardashians (i.e., she has no talent, at least none I can discern, save for self-promotion) is a judge of BGT.  That gives her a platform for making all sorts of smug, ridiculous and simply toxic pronouncements.  

What pearl of wisdom did she impart to the world?  This:  Cyclists who wear cameras are "asking for trouble."

Let's follow the logic of her dictum:

Drivers who use dashcams are looking for trouble.

Blacks, Hispanics, Asians, non-heterosexual, non-cisgender people who record their job interviews or encounters with law enforcement or other authorities are "asking for trouble."

But people who drive intoxicated, distracted or too fast--or break some other law.  Naah, they're fine.  So are cops who lie or interviewers who tell qualified members of minority groups, "We don't feel you would be a good fit with the culture of this organization."

Yeah, we're all "asking for trouble" because to folks like Ms. Holden, people like us having the same rights as hers, and geting the same respect as human beings is "trouble," indeed!

 

Just a reminder why I wear mine @AmandaHolden @theJeremyVine. Go on, tell me it was me asking for it. 🤪 pic.twitter.com/mswxOBnbFN

— Wayne (@waynebago1) June 5, 2022

Happily Riding In A Moment Fugue

I have just had about as nice a cycling weekend as one can have without going to a country like the Netherlands or France where they actually see bikes as forms of transportation and recreational vehicles for people of all ages.

It rained during much of the past week. The good news is that I had a chance to catch up--or at least make progress--on a couple of bike- and writing-related projects. I'll say more about those later. As skies clared late Friday afternoon, while my religious faith did not return, it was enough to get me thinking that the cycling gods--some of whom I've written about in earlier posts-- were smiling on us.

We are in that "sweet spot" between spring and summer:  The air warm enough to cycle shorts and a light top, the water just warm enough for a swim or at least a dip (depending, of course, on your temperature sensitivity) and skies so clear--yes, even here in New York--that no matter how or where you ride, more roads, more fields, more water, stretch ahead of you--and the flowers that have budded and bloomed for the past few weeks pulse with color.

So I did a back-to-back of two old favorites:  Connecticut (the longer and hillier ride) on Saturday and Point Lookout yesterday.  While I am thinking, perhaps, of even longer rides in the coming weeks, I was content with what some might call the "Zen" way of riding:  I enjoyed the individual moments and what some might call The Moment of the rides writ large.

About the longer rides I'm considering:  I might ride from my apartment to some place from which I can't return on the same day.  I'd also like to go further away, to take one of the trips that were postponed by the pandemic.  While I had been planning to go to places I'd never been before, and I hope to take those trips, whether this year or some other times, I feel even more of an urge to see people I haven't seen in a while and other people I've "met" through this blog and other online means but have never seen in person.

But the past weekend's cycling is as fine as any I've experienced in a while.  More like it would make me happy.

A Tell-Tale Sign

When I first became a dedicated cyclist, as a teenager in the mid-1970s, I knew some men who wouldn't ride because they didn't want to shave their legs.

I would explain that racers did it because, they believed, it gave them an aerodynamic advantage.  Whether or not there is such a benefit, there was another reason for racers to depilate their limbs:  It made cleaning and dressing wounds easier.  But even when I had pretensions to racing, I never believed that it was necessary to shave if one simply wanted to ride a bike.

My body hair has always been so light and fine, and grown so slowly, that almost nobody can tell whether or not I've shaved.  Today I can go for months without putting a blade to my calves and shins:  From what my doctor has told me and what I've heard and read in other places, my hormones and surgery have slowed the growth, which was always slow anyway.

But if you see someone with thickets of coarse hair on his limbs, there is at least one thing you can assume about him: