A Moment Of Fame And Fortune

In my youth (Yes, I once had that!), a couple of my poems were published in a small magazine.  It was a big deal to me, and I thought it would lead to fame, if not fortune.  Still, I was surprised when a stranger on the street recognized me as “the poet.”  I blushed.  “I’m not the only one,” I demurred.  

“But you’re going to be The One.  You’re going to be famous—and rich.”

He even said something about becoming a millionaire.  “Well, not many people become millionaires from poetry. Or even thousandaires.”  At that point in my life, I wasn’t even a hundredaire.

These days, I am just as surprised as I was then when a total stranger recognizes me.  If anything, I reassure myself that the statute of limitations has run out for anything I did—and I am a different person, literally, from the one I was—in my wayward, footloose days. 

Such concern, however, we’re unwarranted yesterday, as I was spinning along the Rockaway Boardwalk, when a young man pedaled up to me. “I read your blog!”

Turns out, Luca was on the return leg of a ride to Point Lookout.  So was I.  He had a bit further to go, though:  to Jersey City, where he manages Jersey Cycles.  He’s an “alumnus,” if you will, of a few area bike shops I’ve frequented.

Some of those shops have been taken over by Danny’s, a regional chain.  We talked a bit about the business: It’s tougher than most people realize.  And it’s changed in all sorts of ways. It occurred to me later that it might account for his, and my, tastes in bikes—and blogs.  In particular, he mentioned “The Retrogrouch.”

You might say that my encounter with Luca was a momentary brush with fame.  Ironically, he revealed a way I might’ve attained fortune.  One of the shops in which he worked was part of the Metro chain, which became part of Danny’s.  The entrepreneur who started those shops, Luca said, “was all about real estate.  He didn’t care about bikes.”  Hmm...Had I understood that when I had opportunities to open up a bike or book store, I might have retired by now.

Still, I’m glad I didn’t.  Although I wouldn’t mind having more money, I’m not sure about having a fortune.  As for fame—moments of it are fine, at least if the recognition comes from someone as cool as Luca.

Is This What She Signed Up For?

You're a law student in your home country.  You sign up for a "work and travel" program so you can experience life in another land. In your case, that land is the US.

You find yourself working in a Dunkin' Donuts.  Pretty typical American experience, right? (Hey, I did it!)  But unlike many other Americans, you don't drive.  So you get to work on your bicycle.  You also explore the city in which you're spending your American sojourn on two wheels.

That is, until you can't--because you've had an all-too-typical American experience:  Your bike was stolen.  

What happened next to Nichcha "Ziggy" Tansakul is something she probably could no more have imagined than the theft of her bike when she was studying in her native Thailand.

She and her fellow Dunkin' Donuts workers called the police in Wareham, Massachusetts, the town where she's living and working.  Traffic enforcement officer Jamie White took the call.  He made a few calls, and soon he was buying her a new bike, and School Resource Officer picked up a locking device that is, hopefully, more secure than whatever she had been using.

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Later, other police officers gathered at the Dunkin' Donuts with some of Tansakul's co-workers.  Officer White brought her to the shop to present her with the new bike, lock and good wishes.

On Bastille Day, C'est Une Vie De Chien

I've cycled around la ronde of the Place de la Bastille more than a few times.  The first time, I did it because, well, it's the Place de la Bastille: As I circled around la Colonne de Juillet (July Column), several years before the Bastille Opera house was constructed, I tried to imagine a mob storming a prison and leveling it--and the Marquis de Sade escaping, even if that part of the story isn't true.

So it's not hard for me to associate bicycles with Bastille Day.  But a chihuahua?  

Hmm...Chihuahuas bark in Spanish, right?  So it couldn't be too hard to get this fellow to bark, "Joyeuse Bastille, mes amis!" 

Thank Billie Valentine for that adorable image.  Bikes and chihuahuas: at least they aren't tanks.

Cyclists' Safety: It Became Personal For Her

Yesterday, I wrote about how a beloved member of his cycling community is being commemorated:  The University of Texas at San Antonio opened the Tito Bradshaw Bicycle Repair Shop in a former information booth.

The reason why he's being commemorated is, unfortunately, terrible:  He was killed by an intoxicated driver while riding his bike.

Sometimes, it seems, it takes the death of a cyclist or pedestrian to bring the issue home and spur people into action--that is, when someone isn't trying to blame the cyclist, or cyclists in general, even if the driver was drunk, high, distracted or driving with a suspended license (or no license at all).  

For Chesley Ann Epley Cobbs (Does that sound like a Southern name, or what?), the issue of safety came home, literally, when her brother was killed while riding his bicycle in Oklahoma City.  


As personal as the issue is for her, she made the point that cyclists' safety is vital to the redevelopment of her city.  "Having safe and protected bike lanes connecting our downtown communities secures the safety of getting to and from those places of well-being and entertainment that you are working so hard to build and elevate our great state," she said in a hearing at City Hall.

She found a receptive audience in at least two City Council members.  One, Jo Beth Hamon, described rides that "should take minutes" but take much longer because "going through the neighborhoods, there was no connection" between bike lanes.  As a result, she had to cross major thoroughfares, including a highway, to take what is a typical days' ride for her.

Another Council Member, James Cooper, connected the safety of cyclists and pedestrians to the overall livability of the city.  In addition to a lack of cycling infrastructure, he said that sidewalks are unsafe "in even our most walkable neighborhood, award-winning neighborhood."  He wondered how "a child" could "get safely to school, to a park" in the conditions he described.

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The Council members and Ms. Epley Cobbs spoke at a public proposal meeting on how to spend public funding earmarked for public facilities.  I hope that others in the decision-making process--in other places as well as Oklahoma City--understand what Ms. Epley Cobbs, Ms. Hamon and Mr. Cooper are trying to say:  Ensuring the safety of people who get around without motor vehicles is a vital part of a modern city's development, or redevelopment.  

Tito Bradshaw: Keeping Up His Memory, And Work

Every community needs to memorialize its heroes, advocates, champions and friends.  In that way, we in the cycling community are no different.

We're not (at least here in the US) yet at the point of having monuments, buildings, streets, plazas or even corners named after bicycling advocates.  But we may be moving in that direction, if in small ways and a few locations.

One of those locales is San Antonio--specifically, the University of Texas campus in that city.  There, an old information booth has been turned into the Tito Bradshaw Bicycle Repair Shop.

Tito Bradshaw/. Photo by Scott Ball.

Now, the fact that a campus structure has been re-purposed as a bicycle repair shop shows us that the bicycling community has some sort of presence at the school.  Just as important, the fact that it's been named after Tito Bradshaw means that at least some people within that community--and at least a few outside it--know about his work as an activist and the owner of Bottom Bracket Bicycle Shop.

Plans to convert the booth into a repair shop were already in the works when, in May, he was struck and killed by an intoxicated  driver while riding his bicycle.  He was only 35 years old.  Now, we can hope, his work and community spirit will continue--and expand.

Cyclists on bridge memorialize Tito Bradshaw. Photo by Bonnie Arbitter.