What Boxing Day Delivers

There are some English customs and holidays that have endured in every current or former crown colony--except for the US.

One of those holidays Boxing Day.  Today's the day.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the Anglophone world outside the US, this isn't a day when people watch, or get into, fights. (Lots of people do that on Christmas Day itself, especially after copious quantities of, ahem, eggnog were consumed.) 

Actually, this holiday had its origins with servants and others who had to work on Christmas Day. Their masters or employers gave them the following day off and sent them off with Christmas boxes for themselves and their families.  So, the families of many maids, butlers, cooks and the like had their "Christmas dinner" on this date.

These days, it seems to have taken on an identity like that of Black Friday--the day after Thanksgiving--in the US.  People take advantage of the sales in big-city department stores as well as smaller, family-run operations.

But, at least in the UK, it also seems to be a popular day for bike rides of all types.  A quick Google search revealed everything from lunch rides for families to spirited club rides--and even a cyclo-cross race or two.

Hearing the term "Boxing Day ride" might conjure up an image like this:

I can imagine that rider being one of those servants or other helpers who just got the day off.  And the recipient of one of those boxes just might be this young man:

out on a family ride, of course!

Happy Christmas!

Yesterday I posted a video of Kanye West being pulled through the streets of San Francisco.

Today, I offer an image of what could be an even more arduous ride for three cyclists:

Imagine pulling Santa all over the world, bearing gifts that must be placed under Christmas trees at exactly midnight! I'm not sure any three cyclists could do it, even if their names were Eddy Mercx, Jacques Anquetil and Bernard Hinault.

Happy Christmas, and thank you for visiting my blog!

Perhaps This Ride Will Bring Him Back

In A Movable Feast, published several years after his death, Ernest Hemingway says this about F. Scott Fitzgerald:

His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings.  At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred.  Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned how to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless.

Now, I know Fitzgerald and Hemingway only through what they wrote and, to a lesser degree, what has been written (and said) about them.  I suspect, though, that Hemingway pegged the author of The Great Gatsby.  Well, almost.  I get the feeling that, if anything, Fitzgerald became conscious of his celebrity and what it entailed, and tried to live up (or down, depending on your point of view) to it.  Plus--now, I know someone is going to accuse me of sexism for saying this--he was trying to please a woman who couldn't be pleased.

(Remember, I am transgender, having lived more than four decades in one gender other than the one I live now.  So, while I may not be unbiased, I think I am justified in, or at least can rationalize, a somewhat jaundiced view of both men and women.)

That amended version, I think, can also apply to Kanye West.  There was a time when I thought he was going to become a sort of male version of Lauryn Hill--a "voice of a generation" that would rise out of the scars of his life.  She released a watershed album two decades ago and has barely been heard from since.  He, on the other hand, released an album that seemed to augur, in a similar way, a new vision--and went in the exact opposite direction from Ms. Hill, to the point that his celebrity seems to be a parody.

I really, really was a fan of his when he released College Dropout and subsequent albums Late Registration and Graduation. Like Hill, he seemed to exhibit a self-awareness that seemed almost of a piece with his awareness of the world around him.  And like her, he had talents that served as near-perfect vehicles for that awareness.

Then he became a celebrity.  And he married a Kardashian.  Well, you know the rest.

Still, I must say, there are moments when I remember the Kanye I liked so much.  One such moment came when someone sent me this video from Twitter of Kanye riding a bicycle:




OK, the emphasis is on riding.  Someone else is doing the pedaling.  He says he was in San Francisco.  Wherever he was, he seemed to be having an un-selfconscious good time.

It gives me hope that perhaps he will become a musician and performer--and not merely a celebrity--again.

This Dutch Couple Is A Treat!

When I say "The Netherlands", what's the first thing you think of?

Well, since you're reading this blog, I wouldn't be surprised (or displeased) if you said "cycling."

OK, so what's the next thing you think of?

Some of you would say "windmills."  Fair enough. I'd also bet that some of you think of art.  After all, it's a country that gave us Rembrandt, Vermeer, Van Gogh and Mondrian.

So it makes sense that the Dutch would produce some nice bike-related art.

OK, so this isn't worthy of the Masters, classical or modern.  But, as we say here in Queens--in a Cyndi Lauper accent, of course:  Ya gotta love it!

(She once said, "I speak the Queens English.  It's just the wrong Queens, that's all!")

How Can They Go Wrong With A Pashley?

Before I started this blog, I thought about buying a Pashley bicycle.

Why?, you ask.  Well, I'd never had a bike quite like the "Princess" or "Guv'nor" before.  I know, they are two very different kinds of machine:  One is stately and lady-like, meant for ambling along boulevards, while the other is a "path racer", a genre of bicycle all but unknown to Americans about a decade ago.

Also, since I had two (only two!) Mercians at that time, I thought I had to "round out" my stable with another Traditional British Bike (or at least one from a traditional British maker).  Don't ask me to explain the logic of that--if indeed there is any.

The real reason, though, I wanted  a Pashley is that they're made in Stratford on Avon--the birthplace of none other than The Bard.

Well, greater minds than my own convinced me that it wasn't the best reason to buy a bike.  Pashleys might indeed be wonderful machines, but their quality has no relation to the fact that they're produced in the same place that gave us one of the greatest writers in the English language, if not the entire world.

I don't regret that I didn't buy one.  But I enjoy seeing them, mainly because we really don't see many of them here in the Big Bagel.

Now I'll have a chance to see a bunch of Pashleys--though not all at once, and not in person.  Instead, they'll be on the "Big Screen"--in the soon-to-be-released remake of Mary Poppins.

Lin-Manuel Miranda on a modified Pashley

I don't usually go to see re-makes if I've seen the original because I expect the re-make to be a disappointment. But Mary Poppins is like the perfect confection:  It's not high art, but there's nothing not to like (sort of like Grease), which means that it can't really be ruined in a re-make.  Also, the movie is set 20 years later than the original, so it has to be at least somewhat different.

Besides, this new version will feature Lin-Manuel Miranda--and those Pashleys!