People have told me that, given my history and proclivities, I really don't spend much time in Chelsea. Actually, coming from some people I know, that statement is an accusation rather than an observation!
The funny thing is, I used to spend more time there when it was still largely a working-class Irish neighborhood and, later, when art galleries that couldn't afford to stay in Soho moved to the western fringe of the neighborhood. Those times were well before my transition.
Anyway, Chelsea is like a lot of places in that it's very different if you know people there and go into their homes. Otherwise, it's mostly a shopping area with lots of restaurants and the Piers. But, inside the apartment blocks, tenements and restored brownstones, there are all kinds of stories. A few of them can be told by the bikes parked outside:
For those of you more interested in the bikes than in my scintillating social commentary or historical perspective (You know who you are! ;-) ), the bikes are of course both Dutch-style city commuters/commuters. The one on the fence is a Raleigh, believe it or not. The bike leaning against it was made in Belgium by Mechelen (?).
In black, they make for a rather distinguished if bourgeois couple who have their charm. Isn't that what every couple wants to be, at the end of the day?
Today felt more like the seventh of May than the seventh of January, at least in terms of weather. So, there were plenty of people on their bikes, and some were wearing clothing that wasn't designed to shed rain or snow, or to fend off cold.
One of those riders, whom I met in Chelsea, strikes me as someone who would look absolutely fabulous on her bike in any season:
This sweet and engaging young woman is Andrea Diodati. She's been featured on other bike blogs, she said. I assured her that this one is not like any of the others. After all, how many bike bloggers are like me?
More to the point, how many cyclists have her sense of style? If you want to feature it, she's at electriclovelight.gmail.com. Come on, admit it: You want to write her just to type out that address!
Today the temperature reached 50F and I didn't ride.
Why?
I just lost a riding partner...
I'm going to start making good on a sort-of-promise that I made (or was it a promise I sort-of-made) in the early days of this blog: I'm going to write posts about the bikes I've owned and, perhaps, a few that I've ridden and haven't owned.
My bikes probably won't appear chronologically, or according to any other kind of scheme. However, I do plan to make a list of posts of my bikes past, and make that list available on the sidebar of this blog.
I've been looking through my old photos for some images of my old rides. Now I just need to buy a scanner, or find one that I can use somewhere. I don't have photos of some of my bikes; for those, I'll use old catalogue illustrations or borrow photos from other websites.
If any of you have a time machine, I'll go back and take photos of my old bikes. So far, I figure that I've had about sixty bikes during my lifetime.
In case you're interested, here are some links to posts I've already written about pedals past:
Royce-Union Three-Speed
Nishiki International
Schwinn Continental
Romic Sport-Tourer
Bridgestone RB-2
I don't know how long it will be before I post all of my old bikes on this blog, but I intend to do so. I hope that you'll continue coming here, not just for those posts, but for all of the scintillating wit and wisdom I plan to write in between them.
For all of his foibles and questionable behavior, I always thought Michael Jackson was one of the greatest entertainers of his generation. True, he made all of his worthwhile music before he turned thirty. (In fact, I think that was one of the things that caused or exacerbated many of his problems: The only way he could "outdo" himself after those great albums and videos was through outrageous behavior.) But you had to admit: He could always put on a show.
Somehow, though, I doubt he did much cycling, ever. I don't think much he ever did was conducive to pedaling two wheels. And his fashion sense, as interesting as it could be, simply doesn't work when you're in the saddle.
One example of what I mean was his practice of wearing one white glove. For one thing, about the only white articles of clothing I ever wore on a bike were the socks I raced in: Back then, the USCF and the UCI didn't allow racers to wear anything else under their Detto Pietros. Wearing white while cycling simply never made any sense to me; for that matter, I rarely wear much of anything in white because, when I do, I ruin it. Also, when I haven't had much sun, I look sickly in white.
But back to Michael Jackson: Wearing one glove isn't very practical on a bike. Sometimes I ride gloveless, but not when the weather is anything like it's been the past couple of days.
Sometime during my workday yesterday, I managed to lose one of my gloves. By the time I was ready to leave, the temperature had dropped to 18F and a brisk wind blew out of the northwest. The college in which I work is about half a mile from a strip of stores, all of which were closed.
Another few blocks away, there's another strip. By the time I passed it, only a Rite-Aid Drugstore and a Mandee's were open. RA didn't have any gloves, though they had things like electric socks and blankets. That left Mandee's, which had only those too-cute fingerless gloves that has a "hood" you can slip over the fingers--but not the thumb. They weren't much, but I figured they were better than nothing.
So I bought a pair and, every few minutes, brought each hand to my lips and blew hot air (Some people tell me I'm full of it.) over each thumb. Still, by the time I got home, my hands were tingling and my thumbs were numb. I was only too happy that Charlie and Max wanted me to stroke them!
There are lots of good ways to commemorate MJ. Emulating his sartorial style when you get on a bike isn't one of them!
