A Christmas Day Ride

The other night, I was talking to my brother.  He was in his car, across the street from his in-laws' house.  I heard some of the shouting and laughter (including one particularly loud cackle) from within.  He said that it was a typical holiday scene and that, even after so many years of going to such gatherings, he's unaccustomed to the noise level. "I don't remember it being like that when we were growing up."

"Nor do I."


I was thinking about that exchange yesterday, as I rode.  I knew that the gathering I would attend, with friends.  There would be laughter and music, but I could actually have a conversation with one or two people without having to read their lips.

Before that gathering, my ride was quiet.  Actually, tranquil is a more accurate word:  There were a few cyclists, and a few more people walking, alone or with partners, dogs or children. I think they were all enjoying, or more precisely, losing or immersing themselves, in the calm.

Of course, the ocean itself calms me and, I imagine, most of the people I saw along the Rockaway boardwalk and the South Shore of Nassau County.  Even the bright sunshine soothed my eyes, and much else, in the way the echo of the waves in my ears.

Funny that the weather reports said the wind was calm.  Can a wind be calm?  Or, if it's calm, is it wind?  I felt a slight breeze off the ocean, but I didn't have to pedal into, or with it.  And, because my ride was flat, I felt I could have pedaled all day.

Such conditions are, naturally, ideal for riding a fixed-gear bike, which is why I took Tosca, my Mercian fixie, out for the spin.  I started early, so I had enough time to ride to Point Lookout and back--105 kilometers in all--before joining my friends for the holiday dinner.

They weren't nearly as loud as my brother's in-laws.  And I had a few hours of the best kind of calm before our gathering.

Happy Holidays!

Happy Christmas!

The Santa Bike Club (what else?)

Happy Hanukkah!

Hanukkah celebration, Rabin Square, Tel Aviv, Israel

Happy Kwanzaa!

By cynicallyoptimistic

An "Elf" Hopes To Open A Bike Shop

My cheapest trick for getting my students' attention is to intone, "I've been to Rikers".

I could write a whole post--or, if I were a sociologist or historian, a book--about the implications of that.  Suffice it to say, my students-- most of whom are members of groups that are considered "minorities" but won't be in 2042--react with varying degrees of disbelief or skepticism on hearing such a claim from a middle-aged white woman.

The truth is that I did indeed go to "the island" one morning and leave late that afternoon.  And, if I recall correctly, I ate take-out Chinese food that night.

No, I didn't go by bicycle.  That's not possible:  Once can get there only on a special bus or other authorized vehicle. (I tried cycling there once and was stopped.) If you're an employee, you can drive to the island--which is accessible only by one bridge--with your pass.

But I digress.  I went there to conduct a workshop back when I was working as a writer-in-residence in schools and community centers through the Teachers and Writers program. (The single most spiritually rewarding--and heartbreaking--experience of my working life was the time I spent working with kids in the school at St. Mary's Hospital for Children.)  On the bus from the island, I remember thinking, "How can that place reform or rehabilitate anybody?"  Especially kids:  How does anyone expect a 16-year-old who got busted for stealing a jacket from The Gap to spend time with much more incorrigible offenders--and some of the guards, who aren't, shall we say, the most upstanding citizens themselves-- and emerge with a greater sense of right and wrong (at least as the world outside the walls defines those things) than he had when he was hauled in?

I hear that, if anything, conditions in Rikers (and many other prisons and jails) are worse than they were in those days.   For one thing, many of the educational and vocational programs have been cut.  Moreover, the neighborhoods to which parolees return, or land, have fewer jobs and more social ills than they had back in the late '80s.  Studies show that large numbers of arrestees have learning disabilities and lack educational credentials or useful job skills.  Worst of all, there are few opportunities for inmates to engage in activities--whether educational, vocational or in service to others--that can help them to re-integrate in society when they are released, as most are at some point or another.

That is why I was happy to learn about Mauricio Argueta.

He is an inmate at Folsom State Prison in California.  You--and he--might say he is one of "Santa's eleves". He even has a workshop where he fixes and assembles bikes that will brigten up Christmas morning for needy kids in the area.



He works as part of a program run by the Cameron Park Rotary Club.  The program turned 30 years old this year and, in years past, has employed several inmates at a time.  However, this year, Argueta is the only one working on the bikes.  

All of the inmates who have participated in the program were non-violent offenders.  Argueta, who is scheduled to be released in 2019, is serving a sentence for DUI.  He says that after he is released, he hopes to open a bike shop.  Then, perhaps, he'll get to see the expressions of delight on the faces of kids who get the bikes he's put together.

P.S.:  I did my Rikers workshop when I was still living as male.  

If Mayor De Blasio (or PETA) Took On Santa Claus....

I simply cannot make an animal do something I wouldn't do myself.  It's just not in me.  I am reminded of that every time I see Max and Marlee dozing on the couch whenever I go to work!

So, when New York City Mayor Bill De Blasio said, on the day he took office, that he would ban the horse-drawn carriages tourists love, I was rooting for him to succeed--even though, deep down, I knew he wouldn't.  And, of course, he didn't:  In this city, a politician needs the endorsement of the Teamsters Union--of which the carriage operators are members--in order to get elected or stay in office.  

Also, there are just too many other people, not all of them tourists, who simply could no more imagine the area around Central Park without the horses and carriages than they could imagine Santa without his sled and reindeer.

Speaking of which:  What if the amimal rights activists (with whom I am in sympathy 99 percent of the time) mounted a campaign to stop Santa from driving his airborne bovines?  How would he bring all of those eagerly-awaited gifts to kids of all ages all over the world?

Hmm...Perhaps he could try this:

Hmm...Maybe Mayor de Blasio tried to ban the wrong animals.  From Life Of Bikes.

The question is, of course:  Who would pedal those bikes for him?  And could he find a cyclist with a bright, shiny nose to lead the pack?

For that matter:  What race leaders sported bright red noses instead of the maillot jaune or maglia rosa?

Wearing The Maillot Jaune On The Streets Of San Francisco

Long before he was Gordon Gekko, Michael Douglas was Inspector Steve Keller in The Streets of San Francisco.

I now realize that the chief reason why I liked the show so much during its run was that it looked "authentic".  At least it seemed that way to me at the time, before I had ever set foot in "The City Over The Rainbow".  Even in my adolescence, I could tell that the acting was mediocre and the writing was contrived or just plain silly. (NYPD Blue was much better on both counts.)  But it sure was fun to watch all of those chases with the bay and the bridge in the background.

I haven't been to SFO in a while, but from what I hear, it's changed a lot.  Whatever it's like now, I imagine few street scenes can match what's in this video called, appropriately enough, "The Streets of San Francisco".




The young dude in the maillot jaune--OK, yellow T-shirt--really got my attention!