Demand Bourgeois Rights!

Bicycle activism is a thankless job. Try explaining to people why Broadway should be a greenway, or even what a greenway is. Tell them about how studies show that high-traffic neighborhoods have worse quality of life ratings than those with less busy streets. Express frustration over uninformed and inconsiderate drivers that don't respect the bike lane, and you will be greated by bemusement, confusion, or contempt. Even my brother made a sarcastic (and funny) comment about cyclists posing as New York's real oppressed group, and dismissed the movement as a call for "bourgeois rights."

Below are notes on a Bourgeois Manifesto.

* WE RESPECTFULLY DEMAND the right of healthy and politically engaged individuals to choose efficient, environmentally friendly alternatives to automobile travel.

* WE RESPECTFULLY DEMAND the ability to remind our co-workers constantly about inferiority of their method of commuting.

* WE RESPECTFULLY DEMAND ineffectual political action to chase away our crushing sense of ennui.

* WE RESPECTFULLY DEMAND the patronage of neighborhood coffee shops over corporate chains that exploit their workers.

* WE RESPECTFULLY DEMAND that the communities that we are gentrifying not become too gentrified.

* WE RESPECTFULLY DEMAND that the rent-stabilized apartments that we found through family and friends remain reasonably priced.

* WE RESPECTFULLY DEMAND that our articlate, post-collegiate voices be heard.

With any luck, this could catch on and become just like that Euston petition.

About Last Night: Costumes

I came to the event in a Dracula costume, complete with powdered white face, special occasion tuxedo, white gloves, and a cape to top it off. Unfortunately, no matter how I tried to tie the cape out of the way, it kept getting stuck on the wheel. So I had to dump it, and my ensemble was simply "Overdressed for the Occasion." Strangely enough, though, the face powder held tight, especially considering that I was traveling through some pretty heavy rain. Other costumed participants included Hedwig, a pirate, a Ghostbuster, a pixie, and a jumpsuit-sporting jailbird. (I wonder if the cops ever got to him?)

I set my digital camera to "Night Portrait," which I didn't realize would make pictures appear blurry. Still, it captured the feeling of the event, and sometimes created very interesting motion shots. You can access a slideshow by clicking here.

A Fine Use of NYPD Resources

Sleep well, New Yorkers. Our Police Department is making sure the city minimizes the threats we face from this woman -- the one with the orange feather in her pink helmet and a cute little dog in the front basket of her bicycle. She's dressed this way for the Critical Mass Halloween ride, and they handed her a ticket before it even began. Don't you feel safe knowing that a team of uniformed officers on their scooters are monitoring kindly women and their pups?

Yes, it was that kind of night. It took only five blocks before the first bust. One group turned the wrong way down a one way street, and I overheard one officer call for back-up to encircle the riders. One girl hyperbolically yelled out, "Blue-hatted fascists!" And then all hell broke loose. Half of the bicyclists got wise to what was happening and scattered. Apparently, you can't get arrested while walking your bike on the sidewalk. So many people spread out that way. Others tried to find alternate routes, but the damage was already done. No matter how closely they abided to traffic laws, the police felt they had reason to suspect that every man, woman, and child on two wheels was a violator of traffic laws, a Molotov cocktail throwing radical, or a potential one.

Critical Mass

It looks like I got the last post backwards. I will be attending the Time's Up! Halloween event, but it actually is an afterparty for Critical Mass. Most people know about the mass arrests that the police made during the RNC, and how the NYPD always tries to disrupt the rides by handing out tickets for imagined or exaggerated offences. I've never gotten so much as a parking ticket before. So I'm researching and going in prepared and cautious. Expect pictures and maybe videos of costumed riders after Friday's event.

(The jpg on this post is from the 2003 ride, taken from the Time's Up website.)

Commute and Halloween

For the past two days, I rode my bicycle to work. The fact that the office is about five blocks away from my house should not detract from my victory. Hey, I can't help how short the distance is. On the plus side, I will be switching jobs in the near future. So it will give me the opportunity to prove my chops. In my defense, I have been riding at every given chance.

In the meanwhile, I am planning to attend Time's Up!'s Infamous Halloween Dance Party, but I don't have a costume, yet. This would be a good opportunity to test whether anyone's reading my blog. Do you have any costume suggestions? I am a slim, 6'1" male with brown hair and eyes. I've also been growing a beard lately. Don't suggest anything that requires a mask. I'm in no mood to block my line of vision while riding.

After all, I have a reputation to uphold.

Historical Precedent

Through my Mark Twain research (see below), I came across an essay that he wrote called "Taming the Bicycle." He makes self-depracating remarks about his "clumsiness" and provides blow-by-blow coverage of the dangers of horse-drawn carriages on his suburban, Connecticut road. What gives? I think that Clemens retroactively stole my idea. Granted, he never submitted it for publication, but then again, he didn't have a blog.

Midtown

One cannot be said to have conquered one's fear of city-driving without passing through midtown, but that's not why I rode to 42nd Street and the East Side this past weekend. I needed to visit the New York Public Library's Humanity Branch to research a new playwriting project. I took an alternate route along the East River, and I started to cross over around the upper 30s. I'm glad it was a weekend afternoon, and therefore sparser traffic than usual. But it was surprisingly less difficult than I imagined.

I always let on how much of a novice I am every time I ask someone where it would be legal to lock my bike. For future reference, anyone who might be interested, the bus pole in front of the library is fair game.

Sharing the Road

After spending all my time worrying about large vehicles, I never assessed the danger coming from pedestrians with short attention spans -- like the ones who stand in the middle of a bike lane with their ears all full of iPod, waiting for the street light to change. Yesterday, I must have shouted "HEY" three times. Now, I know what it feels like to live in a rural part of the country where a motorist has to keep an eye out for deer jumping out onto the highway.

One more thing, cars that attempt to turn into the bike lane in order to weave around traffic should get two tickets -- one for reckless endangerment and another for stupidity. How wide do they think the lane is? They just get stuck there and force me to bang on their windshield with my hand. (I didn't actually do it, but I considered it.) Hey bike lane drivers, to quote Bob Dylan, "You're an idiot babe. It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe."

(We're Gonna Rock Down to) Bianchi Avenue

There were some uninteresting other steps that I made before buying my bike. I rented one for the weekend and rode primarily on paths along the river. I went with a good friend who was surprised that I avoided riding a lot in the middle of the street. I never realized that it was illegal to ride on the sidewalk, and I wasn't yet comfortable "sharing the road" with UPS vans, 18-wheelers, and ruthless cab drivers that wouldn't think twice about swirving three lanes to catch a fare. But once you see a group of 14-year-olds weaving around trucks, it shames you to stop thinking about it.

There was no turning back. I went to the bike shop next door to where I live, and they recommended a Bianchi Avenue. I took it around for a test ride, loved it, and ordered a larger one because they didn't have it in my size. I'm over 6 feet tall with long legs. It was about a week-long wait, which felt like much longer considering the elaborate fantasy I had constructed about the gates of the underground city opening up to riders. It came though, and it's a very comfortable ride. Isn't she beautiful?

I joined Transportation Alternatives. Membership is cheap ($30), and you get discounts worth at least that much at most local bike shops. In addition, I signed up for a "Savvy Cyclist" class this November. After the course, I will consider changing the name of this blog to "City Biking for Savvy Cowards." It has a ring to it.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

A naturally fearful person assesses the statistical probability of injury or death before engaging in a new activity. So I consulted my favorite Internet research tool, and Googled the phrases "bicycle safety" and "statistics." Among the top ten results, I found a state published study that included the graph reproduced above. I determined that less than 20 fatalities per year was an acceptable risk in a city of over 16,000 riders, and decided to move forward on my plan.

Incidentally, another page led me to a map of where recent fatal collisions took place, and I decided never to ride near 3rd Avenue and 59th Street -- one of the few sites where multiple crashes occured. Information is power, or at the very least is useful in forming one's meek protective shell.

Introduction

Based on no formal study, I determined that New Yorkers who bike for transportation tend to be fitter, healthier, happier, more satisfied, more sexually virile, and even more politically active than the average citizen. I always imagined that the moment one makes the decision to bike for utility purposes in the city, a masked spy pulls up next to the rider at the nearest interesection and invites the initiate into a secret society. Time's Up -- long assumed to be the most radical advocates for biker's rights, environmental issues, and anti-globalization -- is just a front group for a more vibrant subculture. According to my theory, this underground organization is not a club. It has no central headquarters. It is a large, sprawling network of like-minded people spread throughout the five boroughs who share a secret, liberating knowledge of how to travel with radical joie-de-vivre in a large, anonymous city bent on crushing it with commerce, street traffic, and a decaying public transportation system.

My God! Why has it taken me so long to consider joining this enlightened society? More to the point, why don't all New Yorkers trade in their Metrocards and cab fare for two-wheelers? The answer is simple. We're cowards. This blog aims to chronicle the cautious steps that I am slowly taking to discover that "other New York," and will slowly reveal how one scaredycat's journey can serve as an example to the fearful, envious onlookers numbed by their morning commutes.