What I Didn’t Carry

 In one of my earliest posts, I described what I carried—literally and figuratively—in my messenger bag.

In those days, four decades ago, I was too angry and stupid—and, I believed, too broken—to do anything, professionally or personally, that required me to interact with another human in a way that would require me to reveal my intelligence, talents or vulnerability—or lack of those qualities.

I can assure you, however, that during those days of dodging taxis, pedestrians, dogs—and, sometimes, myself—while pedaling slaloms through Manhattan traffic (Remember, there was no “bicycle infrastructure!) that as strange and, at times, illegal as my cargo sometimes was, it in no way resembled what Huntington, West Virginia police found in Kristopher Osborne’s by backpack when police stopped him, ostensibly for riding his bike without a light.

He was carrying drugs—as I did on at least a few occasions. But he also had a gun (For all I know, I might’ve delivered one!) in his knapsack, which was full of explosives.

What Are They Studying?

 It may be hard to believe, but the waters around New York City were once the most fertile beds in the world. Charles Dickens, in his journal of his American travels, marveled that the bivalves were so abundant that blue collar workers ate them for lunch.

(That, according to at least one food historian, is how the “oyster bar” was born.)

Anyway, harvesting them from the city’s waterways has been severely restricted for about a century. Since the late 1990s, however, attempts to re-introduce them have been successful. Still, health and environmental authorities warn against eating them.

Rats along the Gowanus Canal in Brooklyn, apparently, didn’t get the memo . When an environmental group installed beds along the waterway, the rodents seemed to know that humans spend good money to wash them down with Chablis.  Le vin being unavailable, the gray-tailed grabbers made do with Eau de Gowanus.

So, I had to chuckle when I saw this:

Some students have planted oysters to study the health of the harbor. The sign warns against eating them. Pardon my ignorance, but I think that sign says plenty.

Le Velo De Plume

 If “stationary” stores sell pens and other items for writing,

do “stationery” bikes exist only on paper?

(Now that I think of it, a store—at least a physical one—is, by definition, stationary. But can you ride a stationery bike?)