All I want to do is BIcycle!
Milie found the new perfect bicycle on Craigslist. A sort of collectable, discontinued model made by a Japanese tire company. So we went to Fairmount Park, she on her fancy bike, me on her old clunker, Korean made bike, to practice riding because maybe, someday, I will try to ride in traffic, and I’ve only been on a bike like 3 times in the last ten years. Including this afternoon.
Incidentally, I think it’s sort of misleading to say that Fairmount park is the largest city park in America when there are, seriously, whole towns inside it. Is it really a park in that case? Or a pocket of suburbia?
We decided to name the bikes Spoon and Chopstick. I nickname Chopstick the “Crotchety Rocket” because that’s what it sounds like when you pedal it. Crotchety, crotchey, hope you didn’t think you were gettin’ up this hill any time soon, crotchety, crotchety. That and the brakes of the Crotchety Rocket sing. Sing and don’t really slow the bicycle very, uh, efficiently. It is also heavy. I am not sure that I will actually ride in traffic, but it was an interesting thought.
Did more driving than biking. This I have learned about driving in Philly: people are nuts. The division between lanes is a fluid concept, as is the concept of “parking area,” so the only rule at the core of Philly traffic is: “don’t hit nobody.” People are also highly irritable, but because they are nuts, I don’t feel obligated to care. My running monologue goes something like “Nice use of the turn signal there there buddy, and what are *you* doing? —honk— fuck you! –[Milie in the passenger seat] Bicyclist! Bicyclist!– shit. How is it ok to double park and block off an entire street to steam clean?”