When They Arrived

 Once again, I will invoke my Howard Cosell rule to write about something that doesn't directly relate to bicycles or bicycling.

At least this time, I am invoking that rule to commemorate a joyous occasion.  

On this date in 1964, four young "lads from Liverpool" stepped off a Pan Am flight in a recently-renamed airport.  In a scene that couldn't be replicated today, millions of young people thronged the terminal and spilled onto the tarmac. (Post-9/11 security measures would not allow such a thing.) According to witnesses, those youngsters--mainly girls--squealed and cheered so loudly that one couldn't hear planes taking off.

Some argue that "fangirls" and, to a lesser extent, "fanboys" were born that day.  Whether or not that was true, it's hard to imagine such a raucous reception for any other group or performer.

I am talking, of course, about the Beatles.  The airport where they first set foot on American soil was formerly known as Idlewild but had recently been re-christened as John F. Kennedy International Airport.

The timing of John, Paul, George and Ringo could hardly have been more fortuitous.  Just two months and two weeks earlier, JFK was gunned down in Dallas. I was a very young child during that time and didn't understand the events, but I could feel the grief that filled the air after the President's death and the joy--a catharsis (a word I wouldn't learn until much later) that the "Fab Four" released.

Now, as a lifelong Beatles fan, I will say this:  Those early tunes were sappy love songs.  So were many hits from the pioneers of rock'n'roll--who by that time were nearing, or had recently passed, 30 years of age.  They wouldn't have looked or sounded right doing songs like them but Elvis, Chuck and others from the "doo-wop" generation hadn't yet found their new directions.  The "lads," on the other hand, were still young enough for such things.  And, I believe--with the benefit of hindsight--that people wanted those songs and, more important, the youthful, upbeat energy the Beatles exuded at that point.

Of course, their music would become very different.  But I think their energy was exactly what was needed to move rock'n'roll music forward so that it could absorb such diverse elements and influences as the sitar, Bach and Scottish folk ballads.  Oh, and they even would do a song with lyrics in French--a language none of them spoke.  (Jan Vaughan, a French teacher and the wife of an old friend of Paul's, wrote them.) So, it might be said that the Beatles made, or at least helped to make, rock'n'roll into an international musical genre.

Also, the Beatles helped to change fashions in hair and clothing--and, more importantly, to influence the ways we see gender and sexuality.  Even though they were undeniably straight cisgender men, they were criticized and mocked because their hair and clothing didn't comport with the expectations of men at that time.  

Now that I think of it, they may have had a role, however small, in sparking or stoking the '70's Bike Boom in North America.  The Beatles themselves, especially John, seemed to enjoy cycling.  That was not unusual for adult men--in England, their home country.  But not so in the US:  the bicycle was seen as a toy or, if an adolescent used it for transportation, he or she passed it on to a younger sibling or neighbor, or a parent discarded it, once the kid was old enough to drive.  And at that point in their lives, young people were expected to act and dress "like grown-ups":  coats and ties for men, skirts or dresses and high heels for women.

That the Beatles would, in time, appear on stage and for recording sessions in jeans and T-shirts or dashikis no doubt showed millions of other people, mostly young, they could do the same.  And, let's face it, even if your bike has full fenders and an all-enclosing chainguard, you'd rather ride in comfortable clothing that can be easily washed. Oh, and who wouldn't want to ride with "Here Comes The Sun" as an earworm?

I must end this post, however, by noting that I formulated the Howard Cosell Rule because of one Beatle in particular--or, more precisely, how he met his demise.  Cosell interrupted his play-by-play commentary of an NFL game to announce that John Lennon had been murdered on the night of 8 December 1980.  Cosell and Lennon were friends and, I am sure, influences on each other. 

The New Normal?

 

When I first heard of a town called “Normal” in Illinois, I wondered whether it was, well, normal. That might’ve been before I asked what “normal” means.

I’ve never been to the town, so I couldn’t tell you whether it fits an O.E.D. or D.S.M. definition of “normal.” Actually, the D.S.M. doesn’t so much define “normal” as it dictates what isn’t. In one edition, I wasn’t; in the next—current—edition, I am.

But I digress. The town was named, apparently, for a “normal” school located there. “Normal schools”—which are still so-named in Mexico and other countries—are now known as “teacher training colleges “ in the US.

So why were they called “normal” schools? Well, they were designed mainly to train elementary school teachers and their curricula concentrated on enforcing societal norms of behavior, for the teachers-in-training (almost all of whom were young women) as well as their prospective pupils. 

I don’t know what norms, if any, are being reinforced in today’s Normal.  It has, however, been recognized for practices that will, I hope, become normal. The League of American Bicyclists has acknowledged the town for its efforts to be a more bicycle-friendly city.

Could it be that one day, when a community makes efforts to be bicycle-friendly, it’s becoming Normal—or normal?  I hope so.

A Mirror?

 Recently, I heard someone refer to cyclists as "narcissists."

Of course, my reaction was to think, "It takes one to know one."  I think that person was saying that we are entitled or a privileged class because we now have bike lanes--never mind that riding on some of them, at least here in New York, is more dangerous than cycling on the streets.

That person might have been right, in a way.  Narcissus saw his own reflection.   

Of course, we won't fall onto the pavement while kissing an image of ourselves.  At least not intentionally.