A Ride To The Truth?

The other day, on a pleasant summer afternoon, I was riding back from a trek to Westchester County.  I couldn't help but to notice more work crews than I normally see on the streets.  Some came from ConEd or Verizon, others from the city's transportation department.  They confirm one of my from-the-saddle observations:  streets and roads are in worse shape than I've seen in some time.  Whether it's a result of the weather (climate change?) or simply deferred maintenance, I don't know.

One detour led me down Prospect Avenue in the South Bronx.  I actually didn't mind:  The stretch south of the number 2 and 5 elevated train lines has some rather nice old row houses, and the people seemed to be in a rather relaxed mood.  

Occasionally, I'll stop if a building or detail looks interesting. But I never expected to see, anywhere, something that sums up so many of the truths I hold to be self-evident, to paraphrase the Declaration of Independence.  

Within the past two weeks, the Supreme Court has voted to curtail a woman's right to her own body and, possibly, a bunch of other rights-- but not the one to carry a gun with you.  Why can't they support the simple truths expressed in that sign?  

  

Their E-Bikes Or Their Apartments?

I haven't said much about electric bikes (e-bikes) on this blog.  I have nothing against them:   I simply have no experience with them.  

They are often touted as a "green" alternative to driving.  That's probably true, but I don't expect people to use them instead of their cars for long trips or if they have to carry a lot.  Strictly based on my own observations, I'd say that most people who are riding them to work or wherever are using them as an alternative to mass transportation, walking or a traditional human-powered bicycle, not an automobile.

I also see a fair number of people who seem to be riding them recreationally.  Here in New York City, however, the largest number of e-bike riders seem to be delivery workers of one kind or another.  E-bikes are faster than regular bicycles, at least for most people, so workers can make more deliveries in less time. That's no small consideration, as many workers are paid per delivery.  

Another thing I've noticed is that many of those delivery workers are older than ones I've seen before the advent of e-bikes.  My guess is that the majority are immigrants, many of whom don't speak English or have other marketable skills or credentials recognized in this city or country.  Some are breadwinners, not only for their spouses or partners and kids, but also for extended families, whether here or in their birth countries.  For them, e-bikes are a form of life support, if you will.

It also happens that a good number of those workers live in public housing, a.k.a. "the projects."  

Thus, the New York City Housing Authority's proposal is stirring up a hornet's nest of controversy.  The rationale for it is the Fire Department's report stating that, to date, 104 fires have been caused by lithium-ion batteries, the power source of electric bikes.

In NYCHA's proposal, "residents and their guests may not keep or charge e-bikes or e-batteries in apartments or in common areas of NYCHA buildings."  The agency defines "common areas" as "included but not limited to stairs, halls, laundries, community rooms, storage rooms, walks, drives, playgrounds and parking areas."  In effect, NYCHA wants to ban e-bikes on all of its property.  Workers wonder whether this will cause them to be targeted if they even enter the grounds of a NYCHA complex to make a delivery.

Nathaniel Hill won't be able to keep his e-bike under a NYCHA proposal. Photo by Noah Martz, for Streetsblog.

While it's true that there is a fire hazard, and a fire can cause a greater number of casualties in a densely-populated housing complex, residents and advocates see the proposal as discriminatory, as electric cars are allowed to park in NYCHA lots and Citibike e-bikes park in docks adjacent to NYCHA buildings.  Also, the proposal, if enacted would put delivery workers who live in NYCHA buildings in an impossible situation. "Nobody should be forced to choose between keeping their housing or keeping their job," said Transportation Alternatives' Senior Organizer Juan Restrepo. He suggests that Mayor Eric Adams come up with other solutions, such as public charging stations and secure parking areas.  

 

Our Flag--Or Their Banner?

On Sunday, the day before "the 4th" (American Independence Day), I rode La-Vande, my Mercian King of Mercia, to Point Lookout.  I have taken that ride many times, on every one of my current bikes and several I've owned previously.  Although the weather was just a bit warmer than I like, the skies were clear and bright and the temperature dropped as I approached the water.  Best of all, I was pedaling into the wind, blowing from the ocean and bay, most of my way out. That meant, of course, that I rode with the wind at my back for most of the way back.

Still, I couldn't help but to notice something that distrubed me.  Perhaps the holiday, and its associations sensitized me to it.  A ride I took the other day--the day after the Fourth--confirmed my observation.

Holidays like the Fourth, Memorial and Veterans' Day and, of course, Flag Day, bring a lot of Stars and Stripes out of closets, attics, trunks and storage lockers.  People hang flags in their windows and on their doors and fly them from awnings and poles.  I couldn't help but to feel, however, that the way those flags were displayed was more ostentatious and aggressive than usual.  

My Point Lookout ride takes me through strongholds of Trump-mania:  Broad Channel, a Jamaica Bay island between Rockaways to the "mainland" of Queens, and the Long Island South Shore communities of Long Beach, Lido Beach and Point Lookout itself.  Just past the Long Beach boardwalk, one house flew a flag so wide that it unfurled over the sidewalk in front of it:  Anyone walking by could have been brushed by it which, to some, would have been offense--by the person brushed, mind you--against the flag and therefore the nation. I noticed many other flag displays that were disruptive or simply more in-your-face than ones I saw in years past.

But the incident that showed me that the flag has gone from being an expression of patriotism or simply gratitude to one of agression and hostility, or even a threat, came the other day, as I approached an intersection in Eastchester, a Westchester county town on Negrosa, my vintage Mercian Olympic. Something that looked like a bloated pickup truck--it was nearly as wide as the two eastbound road lanes--pulled up behind me, veering into the shoulder where I was riding.  From poles driven like stakes into each corner of the rear flatbed, American flags fluttered.  Another banner, about the size of those four flags combined, visually blared, as loudly and ominously as the revved-up engine (which seemed to lack a muffler), its message:  Let's Go Brandon.  That, of course is a code for what the driver bellowed at me:  "Fuck Joe Biden."

I pretended to ignore him.  I guess I'm not a very good actor:  I noticed him, the truck, the flags--it was impossible not to.  Eyeing my bike, he growled, "If you hate this country, leave it." 

"I am here because you have the right to say that.  And I have the right to disagree with you.  Members of my family fought for both."

He eyed my bike some more.  "At least it's a 'Merican' bike.  To be fair, he's not the first person to read "Mercian" as "American" or "Murrikan."

"Have a good day, sir."

With a perpexled look, he motored away.  I hadn't felt such relief in a long time.

In 1983, people--including some friends and family members--begged, cajoled and even tried to strong-arm me into not moving back to New York.  In those days, the news, movies, television and other media depicted my city as a lawless hellhole where people were robbed, raped, stabbed or shot.  The implication, of course, was that the victims were like me--a mild-mannered white person (I was still living as male) and the perpetrators were drug-addled black and brown thugs.  

The irony is that some of the people who were sure I'd be dead within a year of moving to New York--and other people who think like them--voted for Donald Trump, a hero to the fellow who was using his truck--and the flag--to intimidate me.