Big Smoke

’cause it’s hard to see from where I’m standin’

You’re Not Helping

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I, in my years of bike messengering and commuting via bike in Manhattan, have developed many strong opinions on helmets, bike lanes, traffic laws, activists and public image in general. I know that my take on the matter is a mishmash of conflicting views (that I self-servingly liken to a microcosm of the city itself) and justifications that don’t work beyond their intended audience.

For instance, I wear helmets sparingly because I feel I’m not as aware, aurally, of my surroundings when I have one on (that, and the aerodynamic shape of certain helmets – especially with the little plastic bill in front – seem to ensure that they’d crack on impact anyway) and if I’m to be broadsided by a crosstown bus I’d prefer avoidance than mitigation. Read the rest of this entry »

“I’m not racist”

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says the exclusionists in Bellerose when faced with people who don’t look like them.

Actually, yes you are.

The joke about the American dream is the immigrant who, fresh off Ellis Island, stamped in and on American soil for the first time, immediately turns around to his compatriots, “now get the hell off my land!”

It’s amazing how Archie Bunker is alive and well in Queens. I forgot my bag at a house party I went to recently in Woodside and, as I work in Prospect Heights, I decided to bike the distance to pick it up before continuing on to Park Slope for drinks. Read the rest of this entry »

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