Bicycle Bingo In The Land Of The Potato Chip

I am going to make a confession.  If you've been reading this blog for a while, you're used to such things.

Anyway, here goes:  I have played bingo.

Mind you, it's been at least 30 years since I last daubed an ink bottle to a bingo sheet:  If I recall correctly, I was with my mother and grandmother, and possibly one or two of their friends.  Grandma died in 1981, and I don't think I've set foot in a bingo hall since then.

But her death isn't the reason I stopped playing:  I simply thought, even with the good company I had, it was boring. I simply could not understand what sort of thrill people got in waiting for numbers to be called.

Then again, I was in my early 20's.  Perhaps I'd like it better now.  I probably am somewhere near, or not too much below, the median age of the average player. Also, I now realize that even though I was the sort of young person I was, my mother, grandmother and their friends enjoyed my company--and I liked theirs.  Perhaps that is the real reason why people go to smoke-filled halls (at least they were in those days) and eat bad food, all for the chance to hit a "jackpot" that might equal a day's pay:  the camaraderie.

Such thoughts cause me to ponder this question:  How many bingo players are cyclists--or vice-versa?

And this related question:  Is it actually possible to combine bingo and cycling?

It seems that some folks in Saratoga Springs, NY have answered the second question in the affirmative.

Saratoga Springs.  From SCiraulo Photography

The "Spa City", like other places noted for mineral springs, thrived when doctors told patients to "take the waters" as a cure for everything from arthritis to zinc deficiency.  This "prescription" became less common with developments in modern medicine that happened and, later, air travel and interstate highway systems made it possible for the sorts of people who vacationed in places like nearby Sharon Springs and Ballston Spa to head for more exotic locales further away.  

Although Saratoga Springs experienced a decline during the 1950's--when the city and state cracked down on illegal gambling--it never entirely lost its draw because of its race track (one of the few horse racing venues in the US that is still thriving) and its vibrant arts scene.  The Yaddo artists' retreat is there.  So is Skidmore College, long a fount of creativity, and the National Dance Museum, the only museum in the US (and one of the few in the world) devoted entirely to the art of dance.

So, perhaps, it's no surprise that "Spa City" came up with "Bike Bingo".  To participate, a cyclist buys a $2 card available at several locations throughout the city. The rules are simple:

• Bike to a location listed on the card and request a stamp.
• Get five in a row for “BINGO” and pedal to one of the prize locations to receive a prize.
• Get another “BINGO” to receive another prize.
• Fill the card to get more prizes.

The "game" will continue until 22 October.  Its organizers hope to reduce motor traffic downtown by encouraging people to explore it by bike.

If you pedal long enough, you'll work up an appetite.  You can sate it in one of the town's many restaurants and cafes--or with some potato chips:  legend has it that they were invented "Spa Town" .  Of course, you will wash them down with water from the Springs!

Don't Believe Everything You Read On An App

Some students are never, ever convinced that I--or any other instructor--is grading them fairly.  There are the ones who think we have it in for them because of their race , ethnicity, religion, socio-economic background (of course, they don't use that term) or opinions that differ from yours--no matter that their sources are minimal or non-existent, their logic flawed or their syntax more tangled than fishing line in an inept angler's hands.  Or they simply think we're too old, un-hip or simply stupid to understand the profound things they're saying.

Then there are the ones who simply can't understand how, after how hard they worked and how they "did everything" they were "supposed to do", they got the grade they got.  Some, of course, don't put such time and effort in what they hand in to me or their other instructors.  But others do, and I genuinely feel for them:  I know that it's frustrating to put forth your best effort and not get the result you want.

There was a time, a dozen or so years ago, when I'd return students' essays and the sighs and shuffle of papers would be broken by some someone whining, "But I used Spell Check--and Grammar Check."   I would explain, as patiently as I could, that not everything they see on a computer screen is to be trusted. (I guess that's the modern version of "Don't believe everything you read!") "All machines have the flaws of the people who make them," I'd pronounce.

It's been a while since a student (well, any student of mine, anyway) has used "The Spell Check Defense," if you will.  But some people are still more willing to trust an electronic device over good, old-fashioned common sense.

One such person was a 26-year-old Jersey City resident who was delivering food on his bicycle in Manhattan.  Following a route suggested by a phone app, he entered the Lincoln Tunnel and pedaled to the New Jersey side.

When he arrived, Port Authority of New York and New Jersey police intercepted him.  He explained how he ended up in the tunnel and showed them his phone, "which supported his claim," according to Port Authority spokesman Joseph Pentangelo.

Bicycles and other "velocipedes" (Yes, that term is used) are prohibited in the Lincoln, according to the regulations listed in the Port Authority's "Green Book".  As there was no significant disruption of traffic, the man received only a summons for trespass.

And, I'm sure, he won't believe everything he sees on a phone app.

Another Kind Of Violence In Charlottesville

As if there hasn't been enough violence in Charlottesville (or the world) lately....

As if there hasn't been enough violence committed by motorists lately...

As if there hasn't been enough violence committed by motorists in Charlottesville lately, there's this:

Gail Esterman--my (or, if you like, Nick's) former neighbor in Park Slope, whom I re-encountered last year in Paris--responded to a Facebook post from her friend, Joy Pugh, about a cab driver who tried to assault a cyclist with his car, then with his fists.  Thankfully, he missed on both counts, but I'm sure the cyclist was shaken.  

Now, I've had a couple of similar incidents during my years of riding.  What makes Charlottesville cyclist's experience all the more galling, though, is that when Ms. Pugh called the taxi company--City Taxi--the number wasn't working and their website doesn't exist.  

Interestingly, according to Joy, there are negative online reviews regarding this cab service--about a driver (the same one?) and someone who answered the "company's" phone.

It Didn't Stop Him

In my time, I've been praised as a "tough" rider.  I won't deny it:  I've ridden long and hard in all manner of conditions and across all sorts of terrain.  I've cycled when I was ready to fall asleep and even in altered states of consciousness. (You can ask.  I might not answer!) . And, yes, I've pedaled in, and through pain.

When it comes to riding my bike with infirmity and discomfort, though, I have nothing on a fellow in South Nashville, Tennessee.  

Just after midnight this morning, police officers responded to a "shots fired" call on Lafayette Street.  There, they found a man struggling to ride a bicycle before he collapsed in the street.

Turns out, he had a gunshot wound in his leg.  Officers believe he got it somewhere near a barber shop in the neighborhood.  

Officers took him to Vanderbilt University Hospital, where it was determined that his injuries were not life-threatening.

That's what I used to tell my old training partners and riding buddies on those rare occasions when I got hurt: "It's non-life-threatening." And I would keep on going.

Now, whether I was tough or just stupid is a fair question.  Either way, I had nothing on that guy in South Nashville.

What Is The Tide Bringing In Now?

The new semester begins today.

So what did I do yesterday?  I went for a ride, of course!

An agreeably cool morning turned into an agreeably warm afternoon, both full of sunshine.  And I had the wind at my back on my way home.

The tide was out at Point Lookout.  I was tempted to ride onto the sandbar.  I think Tosca, my Mercian fixie, would have been game.  But I didn't want to chance the tide coming back in.

I had a good time.  I'm sure everybody did!

Today I'm teaching some basic freshman English classes.  Tomorrow, though, I get to teach something that even a few weeks ago--let alone when I was living as a guy named Nick--I never imagined I would teach.

Women's studies.  Can you believe it?  I didn't ask for it:  I was asked.  

Is there some other kind of tide coming in?