Bikes And Murals For The Community

Although murals have painted for about 30,000 years (if you count such works as the Lascaux cave paintings), they really weren't a major art form in the United States until the early 20th Century, when the Progressive Era engendered protest against big business and imperialist wars.  They really became a part of American life during the 1930s, when President Franklin D. Roosevelt, as part of his New Deal,  commissioned artists including Diego Rivera who, along with some fellow Mexicans, were sponsored by their president, Albero Obergon as part of a nationalist cultural program during the previous decade.  

It was as if Depression-era America and murals found each other:  the medium was ideal for expressing the hardships of the time as well as elevating workers and other everday people.  (How hard do I work if I'm writing sentences like that?)  In other words, murals are a "people's" art form, which is exactly what the nation and society needed as it was confronting the failures of an economy and culture in which a focus on individualism had run riot.

I admit that I am not an art historian, so what I've presented is a comic-book version, at best, of the history and importance of murals.  But I think it will help to make sense of what I'm about to say next:  Bicycle Recycleries and murals go together like, well, cycling and people.

If murals are the most democratic visual art form, then bicycle recycleries (like my local Recycle-a-Bicycle) are the people's bike spaces.  Not only is it possible to find reasonably-priced reconditioned and rebuilt bikes in them, but most offer bike repair classes and volunteer programs.  Some also offer internships as well as other community services and programs.

For years, Recycle Bicycle operated out of a warehouse on Atlas Street in Harrisburg which, in spite of being Pennsylvania's capital, is one of the state's poorest communities. (It tried to declare bankruptcy ten years ago but a judge blocked it from doing so.)  Its people suffer from the same lack of opportunities and health problems that afflict people in other poverty-stricken areas.  So the need for affordable transportation and recreation is as great as it is in other impoverished urban enclaves.

The mural on that building became part of the organization's identity. So, when the building was sold and Recycle Bicycle was forced to move two years ago, some feared the work of public art would be gone forever.

That is, until longtime volunteer and board member Jennifer Donnelly climbed a ladder into the loft of the warehouse.  There, among tools, she found something familiar:  the stencils used to create a whimsical scene of children and swirling purples and blues.  

Other volunteers pulled panels from the mural and Ralphie Seguinot, the self-taught artist who painted it, recreated it, with some modifications, on the new location.

From The Burg

Donnelly explained that Recycle Bicycle raised half of the funds for the project from community donations.  That is fitting because, she says, having the mural--which became closely identified with Recycle Bicycle--on the new building is important to the organization and its mission of creating a community space.  

That's what bicycle recycleries are, and what murals help to define:  community space.

Hey, Sammy. Where Are You Going With That Cash In Your Hand?

 Is he the Bernie Madoff of cycling?

Samuel J. Mancini is accused of bilking 40 investors out of 11 million dollars. While that’s “chump change “ compared to what Bernie defrauded from his clients, I’m sure Mancini’s victims are no less impacted—and feel no less betrayed.

He’d raised the money, he told his investors, for Outdoor Capital Partners (of which he was the managing director) to acquire bicycle-maker DeRosa, bicycle helmet-maker Limar and De Marching, known for bicycle clothing and accessories.  He would re-launch those brands, he told his customers, as part of a direct-to-consumer business that would be a direct competitor to Canyon, at least in the US.

The deal for De Marchi fell through.  So, he set his sights on Gruppo SRL, the parent company of Cinelli and Columbus.

At least, that’s what he told his investors.  In the meantime, according to a civil complaint filed with the US Securities and Exchange Commission and a criminal case in the US Attorney’s office for New Jersey, Mancini and OCP embezzled $400,000 of investors’ money and made $800,000 of “Ponzi-like” payments to investors.

As a result, Mancini’s and OCP’s accounts were frozen and Mancini was arrested.  He was released on bail and is awaiting trial.  The charges of securities fraud, money laundering and wire fraud could bar him being an officer of any public company or selling securities, require him to pay back funds with penalties and interest, and land him in prison for up to 30 years.

Perhaps one reason why investors trusted him was that he told them he was investing millions of his own dollars.  That turned out to be as false as his claim of being an alumnus of the United States Military Academy at West Point.  

This guy sounds like a real charmer.  I hear Bernie was one.

Safe Bike Parking In The “Other” Portland

An important part of encouraging people to commute—or simply to ride—is to make the experience safe.

That means, among other things, creating practical, well-maintained bicycle infrastructure. Bike lanes—again, with the emphasis on practical and well-maintained—are part of such a system.  So are laws and policies (like the “Idaho stop”) that actually make sense rather than merely mimic motor vehicle or pedestrian codes.  Education, for the general public as well as cyclists, is also vital.

But an often-overlooked part of cycling safety is security for the bicycle itself.  I’ve known a few people who gave up on cycling after parking their wheels—sometimes in the “bike rooms” of their co-op buildings—and never seeing them again.

The Bicycle Coalition of Maine understands as much. That is why they are teaming with the Sierra Nevada Brewing Company to make valet bicycle parking available at 11 Thompson’s Point concerts in the “other” Portland.

I hope that this is a sign the idea is spreading.  When the Metropolitan Museum re-opened last year, I was as happy to see valet bike parking there as I was to see an extremely interesting exhibit of early Japanese art!

Roman Numerals=Postponement, Not Cancellation For RAGBRAI

Since the COVID-19 pandemic began, many organized rides have been cancelled or postponed. They include everything from local charity rides to European classics, rides with long histories and others that began in the past decade.

Now, "postpone" is a more elastic term than "cancel."  That is why it's ludicrous to call the current Tokyo Olympiad the "2020 Olympics" or its official name, "Tokyo 2020."   That allows the Olympic Movement (In the immortal words of Harry Shearer, "The Olympics are a movement.  And we need one, every day!") to say, with a straight face, that the Games were "postponed" or merely rescheduled.

Such terms can be used more plausibly when the event is denoted, not with the year in which it's held, but with a Roman Numeral.  The Super Bowl, which has never been postponed or cancelled, follows this practice.  So, it turns out, does one of the largest and oldest organized bike tours in the United States.

Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa (Say that three times fast!), better known as RAGBRAI, began in 1973, when John Karras, a copy editor at the Des Moines Register (and avid cyclist) and Don Kaul, a columnist at the newspaper, decided to ride across the state and write accounts of it.  Don Benson, the newspaper's public relations director, coordinated the ride.  There wasn't much advance publicity, so it's remarkable that about 300 people turned out for the ride.  

From the RAGBRAI blog

 

Somewhere along the way, RAGBRAI followed the Super Bowl's practice of denoting its rides with Roman Numerals.  In a way, that makes sense, or at least for good publicity:  Instead of saying that the 2020 ride was cancelled, ride organizers could postpone the start RAGBRAI XLVIII until this past Sunday.

Perhaps some year I'll make my way to it.  In the meantime, I'm happy that something that could have just been a passing fancy of the 1970s North American Bike Boom has become enough of a tradition to be postponed, but not cancelled.

Cyclist Caught In Crossfire

 Last week, I wrote about a bicycling mishap few of us have experienced:  A man fell off his bike and onto an alligator that bit him.

Today, I am going to mention another cyclist whose ride ended in a way most of us wouldn’t anticipate.  Unfortunately, her life ended with that ride.

Tikiya Allen was riding her along Pingree Street on Detroit’s west side last Wednesday.  A red Ford Taurus with “distinctive rims and unique paint” roamed the area.

Shots rang from the Taurus’ window.  A 20-year old man in another car was struck. So was Ms. Allen.

He is expected to survive.  She, tragically, didn’t.

Police in the Motor City believe that she was caught in the crossfire between one or more of the three or four occupants in the Taurus and the man in the other car—or someone else. They are searching for that Taurus and its driver and passengers.

Such a senseless loss of life is always terrible.  What makes this killing all the worse is that the 18-year-old Allen was a nursing student at nearby Oakland University—at a time when nurses and other health care professionals are leaving the field because of burnout and trauma induced by working through the COVID-19 epidemic.

Her death makes me wonder how many more people have met, or could meet, similar fates, given the increasing amounts of gun violence during the pandemic.

A GoFundMe account has been set up to help her family.