26 July 2020

Would Renewable Energy Sustain This?

Yesterday I advanced the crazy idea that Samuel Beckett may have been a sustainable transportation advocate.

If he were, he probably would have favored renewable energy.

So, would he have approved of this?



It looks like something someone would have created during the days of the "penny farthing" (high-wheeled bicycle) were folks thinking about "renewable energy" or "sustainable transportation."

25 July 2020

Was He A Sustainable Transportation Advocate?

What if Socrates were the protagonist of The Odyssey? 

Well, for one thing, it wouldn't be called The Odyssey because its central character is Odysseus.  So what would The Socratessy (or whatever it would be called) be like?

And what if, in such a story, Socrates had a bicycle?

I have to admit that I never pondered such a scenario.  Perhaps it means that I'm not as creative or deep a thinker as I've fancied myself to be.   Or it may simply mean that I'm not Samuel Beckett.  

Although I've read his poetry and most of his drama (of which I've seen performances), I am guilty of ignoring his fiction. Why? I don't know.  But after coming across an article by transportation policy analyst Gideon Forman, I plan to read Molloy.




Like his best-known works, Waiting for Godot (En attendant Godot) and Endgame (Fin de partie),  Beckett wrote Molloy in French.  (He was born and raised in Ireland but spent most of his adult life in France.)  The title character is, like Socrates, a kind of brilliant philosopher who is homeless. He is on a quest to reunite with his elderly mother; Odysseus is trying to get home to his wife.  And, in another sort-of-parallel to the ancient Greek tale, Molloy is not certain that he will arrive--or that he is even on his way to his destination.

Molloy, who has leg problems, nonetheless undertakes his journey on a bicycle.  "Crippled though I was, I was no mean cyclist," he says.  As Forman points out, however, the bicycle signals poverty:  Molloy can't afford bus or train fare, much less an automobile.  

But, as Forman points out, Beckett--whether or not it was his intention--shows what a democratizing force the bicycle is:  Even in his poverty, with his handicaps, Molloy still can ride it.  

Perhaps most interestingly of all, the bicycle becomes a sort of companion like the eponymous donkey of Juan Ramon Jiminez's Platero y yo  (Platero and I). "Thus we cleared these difficult straits, my bicycle and I, together," Molloy says of his mount.  I imagine that Molloy--and perhaps Beckett himself--would understand the grief I feel over crashing Arielle, my Mercian Audax, or the bikes I've lost to theft.

Could it be that Monsieur Beckett embedded advocacy for cycling (and other sustainable transportation) in a story about uncertainty?

24 July 2020

A Bike Thief's Luck Runs Out

Yesterday I subjected you, dear readers, to a story about a bike shop break-in and my ruminations about how the COVID-19 epidemic has turned bicycles into scarce and valuable commodities.

Well, today, I'm going to introduce you to a bike thief who seemed not to be motivated by the current bike boom and shortage.  

In Mesquite, Nevada--just over the state line from Utah--police responded to a bicycle theft at the Virgin River Casino. (Am I the only one who thinks "virgin" and "casino" look odd together?) Not long afterward, at a nearby gas station, someone jumped into a car that had been left running and drove it away.

According to Mesquite Police Sergeant Wyatt Oliver, people often leave cars running so that it won't get too hot inside.  The key (pun intended) is to lock it before leaving, he explained.  It seems that most people remember to do that, so Officer Oliver says, such a theft "doesn't happen very often."

The thief did something else that "doesn't happen very often."  When vehicles are stolen in the area, thieves normally make a beeline for the nearby freeway.  Our anti-hero drove to another casino where employees reported someone "acting suspiciously."  Mesquite police officers then showed up and arrested Danielle Derosia of Henderson, Colorado.


Danielle Derosia


So what motivated her?  My guess is that both thefts were "crimes of opportunity."  Finding an unattended car with its engine running after she'd just stolen a bike may have led her to believe that she had luck on her side and she decided to try that luck in the casino.  And, though she had the impulse to steal, she wasn't thinking like a seasoned thief, who would run as far and fast as possible from the scene of the crime.

Whatever her motivations or level of "street smarts," she stole a bike.  That won't win her many fans on this blog!

23 July 2020

A Consequence Of The Current Bike Boom

By now, you've heard from me, Retrogrouch, other bloggers and various media outlets about the new "bike boom" spurred by the COVID-19 pandemic.

That "boom" means that bicycles as well as helmets, locks and other related items are scarce, or unavailable, due to disruptions in supply chains.  


About all I remember from my economics course is "supply and demand."  The professor, it seemed, intoned that phrase about three or for times every class.  


When there's more demand than supply, prices go up. Of course, you don't need an economics class to understand that--or that, in such circumstances, when demand continues to outstrip supply, enterprising folks will find ways to appropriate some of the supply.


That last clause is, as you know, a polite way of saying, in such a situation, some will steal--whether for themselves or to supply unmet demand. 


The thing is, victims of theft tend not to  care much about why someone steal from them.  They want their stuff back, or to be remunerated for it.  And, depending on their beliefs and temperament, they want the thief to be penalized. 


While bikes are stolen in "normal" (whatever that means anymore) times, whether from the street or a shop, it seems that, lately, there's been an increase in the number of shop break-ins---and the amount and dollar value of what's taken.


In the wee hours of Tuesday morning, a white pickup truck pulled up by Pearland Bicycles in Houston.  Someone emerged from the vehicle, crowbar in hand.  In prying open the store's glass door, he shattered it.  He and two accomplices ran inside and grabbed whatever they could.  Within minutes, they had about 20 bikes. Pearland owner Darryl Catching says he lost around $40,000 in the burglary.





Some of the bikes were already sold and waiting for customers to pick them up, he said.  So it is even more imperative for him to replace those bikes than if they had simply been standing in the showroom.

Because the thieves struck at 1:30 am, they had time.  How much? "Looks like one of them, he went to the restroom," Catching said.  



22 July 2020

Sea And Sun--And More Sun

Yesterday I took another ride out to Point Lookout and back:  120 kilometers out and back.

The ride takes me along through the Rockaways and along the South Shore of Nassau County.  The day was hot and sunny so, even though it was a Tuesday, the beaches were full of sunbathers, swimmers and people just hanging out.  Others were hanging out on the boardwalk, where, interestingly, I saw more families (or, at least adults with kids) cycling together than I can recall from previous rides.  I guess it's not a surprise when not only kids, but their parents (or other adults in their lives) are home.

One way this ride differed, though, was the way I felt at the end of it.  My legs felt pretty good, and the pain in my neck and shoulders is dissipating.  When I got home, however, I felt tired in a different way from the fatigue at the end of my last Point Lookout ride.

I felt woozy and very, very warm.  Within seconds, it seemed, of sitting down, I fell asleep.  About two hours later, I woke, with Marlee in my lap.

Today I realized that not only the heat, but the sun, had worn on me.  Normally, at this time of year, I would be well-acclimated to both.  But my layoff, in the wake of my crash, kept me indoors most of the time.  And, of pedaling next to the ocean for much of my ride only magnified the sun's rays on my skin.  

Just about every year includes a ride like the one I took yesterday.  Usually, it's in mid- or late May, or possibly June.  This spring, however, was (or at least seemed) cooler and cloudier than usual.  I think I missed the first true summer weather when I was in the hospital, or during my time recuperating at home.

Oh, well.  At least I don't have COVID-19.  Not yet, anyway!