Boss Tweed: Changing the Streets One Dandy At A Time ~ Dunia Sepeda

If you're reading this blog, you probably enjoy bicycles--and why not? They're fun, expensive, and often made out of crabon. However, as everybody knows, they're also deadly. Yes, a single bicycle is more of a menace to public safety than a speeding SUV, or a nuclear submarine, or a runaway steamroller being driven by a 14 year-old Yeshiva student drunk out of his mind on kosher wine. Fortunately, the city is finally going to protect us from deadly bicycles by administering a "crack down" on cyclists who commit infractions that are potentially deadly to others, like failing to signal their turns:

Being a cyclists in New York City is a lot like being a child character in a Dickens novel--most of the time, we're neglected and forced to fend for ourselves, but every so often the authority figures remember that we exist and decide to beat the crap out of us. As is always the case when I hear about crackdowns like this, I have mixed feelings. On one foot, I believe in responsible cycling, and if you break the law eventually you're going to get nailed for it. But on the other claw, when you ride a bike in a city that, for all its shiny new bike lanes, is still pretty hostile to you, it can be hard not to flout a rule or two when it's in your own best interest. It's like the hungry orphan nabbing a crust of bread out of desperation--and here comes the head of that cane, ready to smash our greedy little mitts.

Probably the worst thing about crackdowns like this though is that cyclists will start to get all self-righteous about it, as though nobody else ever experiences them. The truth is, if you drive a car in New York City it's exactly the same thing. For example, even though it's illegal, you can drive around all day long with your BlackBerry glued to your ear without a police officer so much as glancing up from his newspaper. But then one day you turn on the news and hear about some cellphone crackdown, and a bunch of people get pulled over, and they all probably feel persecuted because suddenly they're getting punished for something they do all the time. Then the crackdown's over, everybody keeps talking on their phones while driving, and that's it. It's like the old cartoon with the wolf and the sheepdog.

Of course, there is a key difference, which is that cars kill lots of people, whereas bicycles kill pretty much nobody (though occasionally the people riding them do get killed by cars). Sure, it would be nice if the city would recognize this and change the laws accordingly, but I don't expect them to, in the same way I don't expect Naftali Hershtik to suddenly record an album of Christmas carols--I'd only be setting myself up for disappointment. What I do think is a reasonable wish, though, is that the average bike lane hater in Park Slope would recognize this discrepancy and realize a car is much more likely to kill a child than a bike is, but sadly that's not what's going on. Generally speaking, people get the same sense of satisfaction from watching cyclists get punished that they get from watching the fat kid in teen comedies fail to get laid.

So what's the answer? How do we get people to like us? Well, stunningly, some people think the answer is tweed:

Start an annual fashion award for the best-dressed man or woman on a bike. One of the best trends in the city is the high-heeled, flowery-dressed woman or tweed-suited man making their way by bicycle through the city. It’s harder to drive like a maniac when you’re behind one of them.

He started out well enough with the whole "change the legal relationship between pedestrians, cyclists and drivers" thing, but if this guy thinks that tweed is traffic-calming then he's got to be completely insane. Part of the reason people drive like maniacs when they're behind cyclists is that they think the cyclist is holding them up. (Obviously, this is not really the case, but it's what stupid drivers think.) So, they beep, yell, and floor the accelerator to get around them--and that's just when they see a fellow commuter who's just going to work the same as they are. Change that commuter into a "flowery-dressed woman" or a "tweed-suited man" who looks like he's on his way to a croquet match or a 19th century lawn party and that impatience turns to rage. It's only slightly less irritating than being inconvenienced by a mime. As human beings, our ability to cheer up angry people who hate their lives by behaving charmingly and whimsically drops off sharply after about the age of four.

I've long wondered why people consider so-called "tweed rides" a form of bicycle advocacy or how they're supposed to make normal people want to start cycling. Sure, when I see a bunch of white people dressed up like it's the 1800s I think of a lot of things, but none of them are cycling-related and most of them are bad. Just a few things that spring to mind for me are:

--Colonialism

--Segregation

--Child Labor

--Sexual Repression

--Polio

If they're looking to promote a return to Victorian sensibilities, repeal universal sufferage, or even turn Civil War reenacting into a mainstream sport they're doing a great job, but if they want to promote cycling they might want to look for a different approach. I've heard a lot of dumb anti-bike lane arguments too, but to their credit none of them have involved a bunch of people dressing like a young Mr. Burns from "The Simpsons" and taking to the streets in Model Ts.

I shouldn't be surprised that people think that costumes can change the world though, for we live in the age of the transformative wardrobe, and the urban dandy is king:

Brooklyn is positively full of bearded dandies right now, so I was surprised to learn that there's actually a man who is the Bearded Dandy. I wonder if he's like the head vampire, and if someone were to cut off his beard all the other dandies would suddenly disappear--which would be a shame, because I'd really miss this guy and his abdomen:

All You Haters Crop My Mailman Pants.

Also, tweed riding and dandyism go hand in manicured hand with "cycle chic," and a reader informs me this even has devotees in Japan:

That's one flambullient tallis.

In fairness to things like tweed rides and "cycle chic" though I guess I can understand it as a reaction to the prevailing view of cyclists, which can basically be summarized thusly: "Wear your helmet and get the hell out of my way." In fact, sometimes the only place I feel welcome when I'm riding a bike is on the ocean floor, which could explain this ad I saw while reading the above New York Times article:

(Insert Rivendell Atlantis reference here.)

I guess sub-aquatic credit card touring is the new randonneuring.

At any rate, I'm always pleased to receive a photo of a happy person wearing a vibrant orange prayer shawl, in the same way I'm pleased to receive the occasional sympathy e-card, like this one:

But none of these things pleases me as much as receiving a photo of a stranger's chamois:

Apparently, it's made of "crabyon," which I can only assume is related to "crabon." I won't claim to understand the science behind this, but I do know that I wouldn't want anything with "crab" in the name in that area.