Explaining This Blog's Title

Some of you may wonder just how long I'm going to continue calling this blog "Midlife Cycling."

As I've said in other posts, as long as I don't know when I'm going to die, I consider myself to be in the middle of my life.

This T-shirt offers another explanation of this blog's title:

 

A Ride Of Ripples

 High, wispy cirrus clouds.  The ocean barely waving, let alone tiding.  A breeze against my face on the way out and my back on the way home.

 

 

 

Everything felt like a ripple today.  It may have had to do with doing another Point Lookout ride.  I made that choice, in part, because of the direction of that breeze, as gentle as it was.  Had I gone to Connecticut, Westchester, Alpine or Nyack, I would have been pedaling against the wind on my way home.  Also, yesterday was warmer than it had been earlier in the week, and I started to ride later in the morning than I'd planned.  If the warmest part of the day was going to be warmer than the past few days, I wanted to ride by the ocean rather than inland.

 

So, when I say that the ride was a ripple, I'm not complaining.  Rather, I felt rather privileged, as if I could see the brush strokes of those ripples in the sky and on the water, as I felt them against my skin.  Also, it's a treat to ride any of my bikes--in this case, Dee-Lilah, my Mercian Vincitore Special, lived up to her name.

 

Our ride ended, not with the rain, but a ripple.  All right, T.S. Eliot didn't end " The Hollow Men" that way.  I'm not sure that he could have, any more than I could have written his poem. I am happy to write my own poems--and take my rides, whether they begin or end with ripples, or anything else.

What Will It Take To Stop Her?

What do you call someone who

• has 9 unpaid parking tickets
• argued her way out of getting her car towed over unpaid parking tickets
• didn't pay a $3000 veterinary bill until a collection agency came calling
• lives in housing designated for families with incomes a third of what she, as a single woman, makes
• oh, and strikes a cyclist with her SUV and, after he and his bike tumble over her hood and onto the street, drives away--and doesn't report the incident for six hours?

Answer:  a Jersey City Council member.  At least, for now.

This isn't some grim joke among cynical New York-area political reporters.  This is the story of Amy De Gise, daughter of Hudson County Executive Tom De Gise, one of northern New Jersey's most powerful politicians.

As I reported in an earlier post, she didn't even slow down, let alone stop, to see whether the cyclist, Andrew Black, was OK.  Rather, she hid in her cozy lair until the other night, when nearly everyone at a Jersey City Council meeting called for her resignation.  To date, she hasn't so much as apologized to Black, let alone offer to reimburse him for whatever the crash may have cost him. (Thankfully, he suffered only minor injuries although his bike was trashed.) And her father is, in essence, telling people to stop "picking on" his daughter.

Her case has been moved to a neighboring county, Essex (which includes Newark) out of fears that she won't get a "fair" trial.  So far, it seems that the only people, inside or outside Jersey City or Hudson County, who don't think she should resign are her father and a few other local politicians.  That isn't surprising when you consider that Jersey City's corruption has long stood out in a state noted for its political corruption--and that Ms. De Gise is, at least for now, the heir apparent to her father, who is retiring.

The Roman poet Juvenal could have had someone like Amy DeGise in mind when he wrote, "Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"--Who will guard the guardians?