Tuesday 15 February 2011

Lost Cause: Take My Lane--Please!

I am a firm believer in the psychological and spiritual benefits of unburdening oneself through the act of confession. For example, I should tell you that it was I who put the Clenbuterol in Alberto Contador's steak, though I only did it because Andy Schleck promised me a position as Team LAY-oh-pard's choreographer and spirit coach in return. Also, I'd like to take this opportunity to confess that I've been looking at way too much smugness porn.

People have long argued that consuming too much sex-themed porn can be psychologically damaging, but I could not disagree more--in fact, I've got another Internet browser window open to promiscuousheatingventilatingandairconditioningtechs.com open even as I type this, and not only am I experiencing no ill effects whatsoever, but I've also learned more about humidity control as it relates to coitus than I ever thought possible. Smugness porn, on the other hand, is incredibly bad for you, because what happens is you build up a tolerance to it. First, you start with the softcore stuff, like Bikeportland, where in honor of Valentine's Day yesterday they had a post called "Love and bicycles: A photo essay:"


(Getting married to your bicycle is Having Way Too Many Cats 2.0)

After awhile though, once you've seen one person with severe social phobias and deeply-rooted commitment issues get married to an inanimate object, you've seen them all. In fact, not only is it unexciting, but it's also depressing, because you realize that by now they probably hardly speak anymore, and instead they sit in opposite corners of the room reading the paper while the bride flirts surreptitiously with her vintage end table.

So then you move onto the harder stuff. After all, Portland's only the second-most bike-tastic city in the United America of States, and everybody knows the first-most most bike-tastic city in Canada's bedpan is Minneapolis, home of the "Stupor Bowl:"

DOWN BY THE WEEP HOLE: The story of the Stupor Bowl from Nathaniel H. Freeman on Vimeo.

This sort of smugness porn is far too scatalogical though, and even the most determined smugness porn addict probably can't find almost a half-hour to watch a bunch of people who look like they could use a shower talk about riding around in Prince's hometown while drunk.

So once this doesn't do it for you, there's only one place left: Streetsblog. I'm sorry to report that this is where I wound up last night, and it was there that I found the most hardcore smugness porn I've ever seen in my life:



Yes, like all the best smugness porn, it came from Holland (or maybe it came from the Netherlands, I'm not sure which) and in this particular video the entire country of either Holland or the Netherlands is outraged when a person in a pickup truck hits a group of cyclists and causes them minor injuries:

Obviously, this sort of smugness porn is dangerous on a number of levels. Firstly, unless you actually live in either Holland or the Netherlands (which, even though I've been there, I'm still not convinced actually exists), there is obviously almost no circumstance in which a driver would actually get in trouble for hitting you on your bike. Secondly, even if by some miracle the driver actually did get in trouble, there is no way that the general public would be outraged by the driver's actions. If anything, they'd be outraged at you for inconveniencing the driver with your unregistered and unlicensed vehicle, and they'd say you brought it on yourself by not wearing a helmet.

Clearly, the cyclist who watches this sort of smugness porn and then thinks he or she will be afforded any sort of consideration on the streets is the same as the frat boy who watches too much sex-themed porn and thinks that women prefer a first date to end with a face full of semen.

What makes this video even more painful is that, here in New York, the city actually had the temerity to pretend that they liked us for awhile. Clearly though, those days are over, and the backlash has arrived like a dominatrix's whip punishing the posteriors of the smug. Consider this news report (via Gothamist) about the dangers of the Prospect Park West bike lane in Brooklyn:



(If video embedding fails because the administrator of this blog is an idiot then simply use this link. I apologize for the inconvenience and please come again!)

In it, there is sensational footage of an ambulance being forced to use the bike lane to circumvent the "traffic jam" the bike lane has supposedly caused:

Of course, the footage is only a few seconds long, and in fact before it cuts away the cars actually begin moving, most likely because they were simply waiting at a red light. Moreover, neither the reporters nor any of the people interviewed in the story point out that it was probably a good thing the bike lane was there, since it would have been a lot harder for the ambulance to drive through all the parked cars that used to be there before it was installed. Still, Park Slope residents like Steven Spirn are horrified:

"It makes one much more emotionally tense and frightened because you don't have speedy access to Prospect Park West so you can get to the hospital."

I have a feeling that a lot of things make Steven Spirn emotionally tense and frightened. In fact, he strikes me as the sort of person who might have a breakdown while ordering a half a pound of lox, and is almost certainly what psychologists call a nebbish. Now, I have nothing but sympathy for Mr. Spirn and his ailing 94 year-old mother-in-law, who no doubt criticized her son's driving, career choice, and general attitude the whole way to the hospital, but I also wonder how much trouble they really had getting there since it's only like two blocks away:

I'm sure in the Netherlands they'd just throw bubbie in a "bake feets."

In any case, it's bad enough they're giving this guy airtime because he got stuck in some rush-hour traffic and he's trying to shut up his mother-in-law, but it's even worse when the reporter pretends that the real victims are the cyclists:

"But ambulances using the bike lane as a traffic detour could also be life-threatening. Imagine being on a bicycle with a speeding ambulance bearing down on you."

Right, because speeding ambulances never bear down on you in New York City on streets that don't have bike lanes. I'd much rather encounter one in the Prospect Park West bike lane than in the way it usually happens, which basically involves trying to make my way through a bunch of moronic drivers who don't have the sense to pull over. For some reason, drivers will run lights all day long, yet when there's an emergency vehicle behind them at an intersection and they have to do it they just sit there stunned. Anyway, as a cyclist, I think having a bike lane but having to yield to an ambulance in an emergency situation once in a great while is better than not having a bike lane at all, though apparently this guy disagrees:

"I wouldn't want to be riding my bike and have an ambulance coming straight at me," says this obvious shill just before accepting half a pound of lox in compensation from Mr. Spirn.

But the traffic! What about the deadly traffic!?! Well, I've ridden and driven along Prospect Park West many, many times, both pre-and post-bike lane, and the only difference is that, well, now there's a bike lane. Sure, there's some rush hour traffic, but there was always some rush hour traffic. Plus, as the video shows, this traffic is still exacerbated by exactly the same things, which are delivery trucks and idling cars:

The rest of the time, though, traffic seems to move fine--even with all the double-parkers and delivery trucks. Still, "A spokesman from the ambulance and fire unions tells me there's tremendous concern about the traffic congestion caused by bike lanes and whether it will impede emergency response," says the reporter as she stands in front of a completely empty street:

But none of this changes the fact that people in New York just don't like cyclists, which is why politicians who want to become mayor are now distancing themselves from cycling as much as possible and harnessing the awesome power of coddling drivers:


Yes, if you ride a bike, people really, really don't like you:

The relatively new push to spread the bike lanes further across the boroughs is only fueling the deep divide between drivers and bikers.

Yolanda Lopez of the Bronx is no fan of the the new pro-bike regulations.

“I hate it with a passion,” Lopez said.

“They put up a new sign, I make a wrong turn, I get a $90 ticket and points on my license. Nothing’s happening to these guys,” said Kate Helpern of the Lower East Side.


Kate Helpern is clearly an idiot, since not only are cyclists subject to the same fines as drivers, but the city is also in the middle of a truly "epic" cycling ticket blitz. Then again, many of the cyclists who get tickets for running lights and complain that drivers never get ticketed are similarly idiotic. You'd think most adults would have outgrown the whole "How come I get punished but he doesn't?" thing years ago, and I wonder if Ms. Helpern was slurping from a juice box during her interview.

But while that attitude may be irritating, it's not nearly as frightening as victims who side against other victims. Consider the author of this article (a few months old, but I'm just seeing it now), who thinks Martin Erzinger was unfairly targeted because he was rich:


Sure, it may seem unthinkable that anyone could believe that a driver who hit a cyclist, left him for dead, subsequently blamed his actions of "new-car smell," and then received as a sentence only 45 days of charity work and a year's probation was unfairly treated, but I guess he's just bitter since nobody looked out for him:

The clear implication is that Erzinger is getting off easy because of his wealth. I think this is probably 100% backwards.

I suspect that if Erzinger hadn't been a wealthy guy driving a brand new Mercedes Benz he would never have been arrested for the hit and run.

In 2007, I was struck by a white mini-van while crossing the street in lower Manhattan. The van sped off after throwing me across the street. My leg was shattered. It's now held together with a rod made of a special metal alloy. Walking took months of physical therapy. I can still feel the pain on some days.

Thanks to eye-witnesses we found the owners of the vehicle. Her insurance paid for the extensive surgery required, as well as the extensive medical bills. She had no real assets, so I never pursued her in civil court. The police, after the initial interview at the scene of the crime, never followed up. It was just a hit-and-run, after all.

Maybe things are different in Eagle, Colorado. Maybe the cops are super-vigilant about pursuing hit-and-run drivers. Or maybe Erzinger was arrested because he was driving a fancy new car.

Wow, he's like an ethical salmon, like the guy in "Life of Brian" who loves the Romans:



Speaking of ethics and not understanding something, Tom Boonen can't understand why Alberto Contador is being cleared by the Spanish cycling federation:


“They may have to change the whole system and accept that an athlete can have a certain product in his body without him being held accountable for it. But that is a completely different story.”

"Certain product" indeed. "How come Contador gets to have drugs but I don't?"

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