The Trial of The Century--Almost

Warning:  Today's post won't be about bicycles or bicycling.

Many people, especially in the media, believe that at least one of Trump's trials will be the "trial of the century."

Now, call me jaded, but I've heard more than one court case so hyped.  Nearly three decades ago, we were treated to the spectacle of the recently-departed O.J. Simpson: that era's "trial of the century."  And, two decades before that, we almost witnessed a proceeding that, had it happened, would have been so labelled.

 A few days ago, former Times sports reporter pointed out some parallels between that O.J.'s case and the one currently playing out for Donald Trump.  One obvious comparison is the media spectacles that both have generated.  But more to the point, as Robert Lipsyte explains, is that people's opinions about those trials--and the outcome, in O.J.'s case and potential outcome for DT--have less to do with the guilt or innocence of the defendants than with people's political and social stances.  

As Lipsyte recounts, he was having lunch in a Boston sports bar when the O.J. verdict was announced.  "The diners, predominantly white, froze in shock," he recalls.  "The kitchen and wait staff, mostly black, were on the perimeters of that room, clapping and shouting."  Those workers, he said, saw the verdict as a vindication or "payback" for the acquittal, three years earlier, of four Los Angeles police officers charged with beating Rodney King even if some of them would admit that the evidence pointed to O.J.'s guilt.   

Similarly, even with all of the evidence that the 2020 election--which Trump tried to rig--wasn't "stolen" and that he has at least four decades' worth of financial, sexual and other kinds of misconduct on his resume, his supporters insist that current attempts to hold him accountable are "politically motivated" and the result of a "witch hunt."

Whether or not Trump's court appearances constitute the "Trial of the Century," had an inquiry into another former president's offenses resulted not resulted in his resignation, we would surely have witnessed the "Trial of the Century" half a century ago.

On this date in 1974, the Judiciary Committee of the House of Representatives began its impeachment hearings against then-President Richard Nixon.  The charges against him were mainly, but not solely, related to the Watergate break-in.  Those hearings culminated two and a half months later when the Committee--with Republicans joining Democrats (imagine that!) approved three articles of impeachment against him.  Had he not resigned two weeks later, most historians agree that he would have faced impeachment from the full House and a trial in the Senate and, possibly, the Supreme Court.  The latter certainly would have been that era's "Trial of the Century."

So, while TotC hasn't been announced as often as, say, the end of the world, I am still wary of applying it to any court case--even one involving Donald or O.J., or one that could have involved "Tricky Dick."  Then again, it was hard to beat the O.J. Trial for sheer spectacle, just as Donald's is compelling for the sordidness of the defendant.  Some would have said the same about Nixon's trial, had it come to pass.

Oxymoron Enforcement

 Even after half a century as a dedicated cyclist, I still don’t understand what goes on in the minds of traffic and transit planners.

There are the bike lanes to nowhere that seem to begin out of nowhere—not to mention the ones that are ill-placed, -constructed and -maintained.  Oh, and then there are lanes and turns that seem to be designed to put cyclists and pedestrians in the most possible danger.

Sometimes, though, I wonder whether those planners—those who enforce policies or the law—have any idea of what they’re trying to tell us or a working knowledge of the language in which they’re communicating.

In earlier posts I have given examples of signs that seem to contradict the intended message, or are simply confusing, because of poor logic, grammar or syntax—or seemingly-unintended oxymorons. To wit:

Now, perhaps I’m missing something but I don’t understand how something can be “loud” and a “muffler” at the same time.  And even if such a thing could exist, how could it be “enforced,” strictly or otherwise?  Is that sign warning people that if they enter New Rochelle without a “loud muffler,” they could be penalized?  If so, what does the city deem an appropriate punishment for something that, by definition, cannot exist?

For the record, I cycled into New Rochelle without a loud muffler. I wonder whether there will be a peacekeeping force of violent pacifists stationed at the border the next time I enter the city from Eastchester.

No Soy Una Cyclista Típica

 I may be, ahem, in midlife. So I might be slowing down. But, by virtue of half a century of dedicated cycling—and writing this blog, I can confidently make this claim about myself:

Enjoy Cinco de Mayo!