Proposal

 Some day—perhaps soon—I’ll believe that I’ve moved to the most wonderful neighborhood in the universe. As much as I love my new apartment (even if it is smaller than my old one), its views and its light, and as friendly as my neighbors have been, there are still things I miss about Astoria.

Those things include, of course, my friends—with whom I’ll try to stay in touch.  Also, it had, if not the best, then some of the best, of New York:  It’s about as close as you can get to Manhattan without being there, but it doesn’t have the self-conscious hipsterism of Williamsburg, Greenpoint or Bushwick.  

Oh, and there was the food. I’m finding good eats here, but I still haven’t come across a bakery, let alone one that makes bread or cookies like Parisi’s or bagels like Lots o’ Bagels. 

And of course, there are the rides.  I could continue to do them, but I would have to ride (or take a train) to get to them.  I’m just starting to discover some good routes here, but I’m still in the “It’s not the Fort Totten ride!” stage.

Finally, there are the characters.  I’m sure I’ll find them here, but I still think of the ones I just left. They include the guy who hung out by the train station and the stores. He approached me and, probably, every other woman in the neighborhood, with this proposal:  “Will you marry me?  I’ve got food stamps!”

I have to admit, there are worse—or at least more bizarre—pickup lines.

Soon I will return to regular posting.  I have been so busy—and tired—that it seems like a miracle that I actually managed to do two rides—about 25 miles each—that had nothing to do with commuting or errands.

What Color Is Your Ride?

 It isn’t easy being green!

Egg Hunting

 Happy Easter!

The G&O Cyclery ((Seattle WA) announcing they’re closed because they’d “Gone Egg Hunting.”

I haven’t posted during the past week because of a change in my life.  I hinted at it in recent posts.  I’ll tell you more and return to regular posting soon.

Which Way?

Yogi Berra supposedly said, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

Right Where They Belong

 Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

Somehow, leprechauns look like they belong on bicycles. Maybe it’s because they always look happy, and bike riding makes people happy.

That said, should we admonish them to wear helmets?

Why Do I Have A Cat?

This is why I have a cat:

GOAT—Or Just Horny?

 Until recently, I thought “goat” denoted an an animal that lives in the mountains and has horns.  

Only a few years ago, I learned that “GOAT” is an acronym for the “Greatest Of All Time.”

That title has been bestowed upon Michael Jordan, Tom Brady and other record-setting athletes. It’s commonly agreed that cycling’s GOAT is Eddy Merckx.

More than one of my old cycling buddies probably thought of themselves as the “GOAT.” Of course they weren’t.

But they were goats in one other way:

Did cycling make them horny?

A Translation of “Hasta La Vista, Baby!”

 As cheesy as it sounds, I have envisioned a movie, video or play ending with the main character mounting a bicycle and intoning, “See you later, alligator!”

What's In A Name?

 If you live in the English-speaking world, you almost certainly call someone you know "Mike."  Chances are, he's a boy or man named Michael.

So, if "Mike" is short for "Michael:"

Life Lessons

 No matter how strong your legs,

No matter how quick your reflexes,

No matter how wide your peripheral vision,

No matter how proficient a cyclist you are,

In, ahem, midlife you realize that you will never again do some of the rides you did when you were young!

A Mirror?

 Recently, I heard someone refer to cyclists as "narcissists."

Of course, my reaction was to think, "It takes one to know one."  I think that person was saying that we are entitled or a privileged class because we now have bike lanes--never mind that riding on some of them, at least here in New York, is more dangerous than cycling on the streets.

That person might have been right, in a way.  Narcissus saw his own reflection.   

Of course, we won't fall onto the pavement while kissing an image of ourselves.  At least not intentionally.

Down And Back

Today's post will answer a question that, most likely, you've never asked.

We've all seen someone ride a bicycle backwards.  At least, a bicycle as we know it, with two wheels of equal (or nearly-equal) size.

And we've all seen someone ride a bicycle down stairs. In fact, some of us (yes, I include myself) have done it.

But has anyone ever ridden a "penny farthing" (high-wheeler) backwards down a flight of stairs?

And, if they did, did they live to tell about it? 

You Talkin’ About Me?!

 Remember..this blog is about Midlife Cycling…whatever my age!

What Are You Looking At?

 I written about bicycles in the military.  Turns out, they’ve been very useful in, among other things, reconnaissance missions.

That got me to wondering whether spies have used bikes in their work.

Turns out (I know, I used that phrase already!), the great minds think alike.  Or, at least, I think like my people: Apparently, someone in Italy had the same idea!

It was in Tyrol, which some other Italians argue isn’t really Italy: sono tedeschi.  So I’ll go with “great minds!”

How Do They Ride?

 The ride of some bikes has been described as “squirrels.” What riders mean is that the bike seems to wiggle, squirm or furtively jump, usually at high speeds (especially downhill) or when the rider pulls on the handlebars or stands up on the bike.

That got me to wondering:  Do squirrels ever describe anything as bike-y?

He Never Looked So Good

 When I was a child, I had a fever.

All right, I won’t sing the best-known Pink Floyd song. For that matter, I won’t sing: I don’t want to risk arrest for disturbing the peace!

So…when I was a child, there was a very popular toy.  It was also popular in my parents’ time. So, playing with it might have been the last time I could enjoy such a thing without thinking, “I’ve become my mother/father*”

Mr. Potato Head, I’ve recently learned, was the first toy advertised on television. It’s still in production today and, perhaps not surprisingly, featured in Toy Story.

As I remember, there were all kinds of accessories available—including a little bicycle for him to ride.  I don’t recall him, however, looking so stylish

unless, perhaps, there was a fin-de-siécle edition of Monsieur Pomme de Terre for the Burgundy countryside.

*—Early in my gender affirmation process, my mother had just heard a “great new singer:” Lady Gaga.

“She is great,” I affirmed. “She’s one of my new favorites.”

A pause.

“Omigod! I’ve become my mother.” We laughed.

Because Nutrition Matters

 Some of the most comic failures of my life have involved my efforts to be a vegetarian. Now, I don’t believe that no meal is complete without beef, chicken, fish or some other animal flesh. But my intentions of going to an entirely plant-based diet always seem to be derailed by some unforeseen event—like the andouille that found its way into the cornbread stuffing for the turkey I was, uh, cooking for other people. 

Or a barbecue that presented itself along my ride.  Because you know that I never, ever would intentionally ride to a feast of wings, drumsticks, sausages and patties singed on a hot grill.

And when I am riding to such a massive repast—unintentionally, of course—I am never tasting, in my mind, those succulent accompaniments to succotash. (Gotta eat a balanced diet, ya know?)

Sometimes I am visualizing those tasty morsels so vividly that I am, in my mind, grilling them as I ride.

The Lesser Offense?

 A few years ago, one of my students disappeared a couple of weeks into the semester.  She re-appeared near the end of semester, begging me to allow her to make up the work she missed.  I relented.  She submitted the essays and research paper a week before the final exam. 

I didn’t have to read much to confirm my suspicion:  She hadn’t written those essays or the paper. On the day of the final exam, I returned her work with red “F”s scrawled across them, along with the web addresses where I found “her” work.

“I didn’t plagiarize.”

“So why did I find these papers on the web?”

“I didn’t plagiarize them.  My friend did it for me!”

This week’s “Sunday funny” reminded me of that episode. Just as my former student thought she was not violating the college’s academic integrity policy because she hadn’t done the plagiarism herself, a public official tried to save face by claiming that he was behaving more responsibly by riding his bicycle rather than driving after a night of drinking.

Ty Ross, a Fernandina Beach (Florida) City Manager, had been in his post for only two weeks when police found him lying beside his bike on a roadside. 

Whether or not getting on two wheels instead of four is more responsible behavior after drinking, the officers decided he hadn’t committed a citeable offense and offered him a ride home, which he accepted.

If I recall correctly, my former student failed my class but the college didn’t expel her. That didn’t upset me. But I wonder whether she refined her sense of what is right or wrong—or whether Ross will.

Had he caused or suffered any harm, he would’ve been a candidate for a Darwin Award.

Off The Rails

 When I had a mountain bike with suspension, I thought I could ride over anything.

That included railroad tracks. I assumed they were abandoned…until I heard a low rumble, clackety-clack and blaring horn.

It’s a good thing my reflexes were great. (I was younger!)

Even with suspension, riding those tracks was rough. Perhaps this is what I needed:

What I Thought They Meant

 The first time I heard of “electric bikes,” I pictured something like this: