Today, all Americans finally became equal.
I have never been more proud of my country than I am right now.
Archive for General
Riding tandem
Ever since I started this blog, I’ve tried to keep a narrow focus. Like the name implies, I’ve written almost exclusively about bicycling — and primarily, about cycling in Los Angeles.
Today, though, I’d like to discuss another subject, just this once. So if you’re only interested in my thoughts on cycling — and thank you for that, by the way — check back in a day or two, and I promise to be back on subject.
And I promise to never, ever do it again. Until the next time, anyway.
But as you’re undoubtedly aware, there’s an election tomorrow. I mean, I certainly hope you know that by now. And I assume you’ve studied the candidates and the issues, and you don’t need me to tell you how to vote.
I trust you to do the right thing. Really, I do Whatever that may be.
But let’s talk, for just a minute, about California’s Proposition 8, the proposition that would amend the state constitution to ban gay marriage in this state.
People opposed to same-sex marriage have long argued that we have to defend the traditional definition of marriage; that allowing members of the same sex to get married would somehow weaken the institution or marriage. Some have even argued that thousands of married men and women would leave their spouses. once they were able to marry someone of the same sex.
So let me reassure you, from my own personal perspective.
In the five and a half months since gay marriage has been legal in this state, it has had no apparent effect on my marriage.
None.
My wife and I are just as married as we were in April of this year, or any of the previous 11 years since we tied the knot. And to the best of my knowledge, neither of us has felt the slightest desire to leave the other for any reason, let alone to marry someone else — of any sex.
Of course, maybe it takes a little longer than that. Like 6 months, or maybe a year.
But as far as I’m concerned, an inability to keep your zipper up in the presence of someone other than your spouse poses a far greater threat to marriage than allowing anyone to share the rites. As does an apparent willingness in this society to walk away from a marriage when things get hard, or someone gets bored.
And despite our close proximity to West Hollywood, I have never seen any sign of the infamous gay agenda that so many supporters of Prop 8 refer too, though I have seen a fey Filofax or two. Nor has anyone ever tried to recruit either of us to switch sides — although my wife is endlessly amused when someone turns around to check out my bike-firmed butt.
But let’s face it. Marriage isn’t always easy; but with the right person, it’s worth it.
And who am I to deny that to anyone?
My biggest problem with Prop 8, though, is that it takes away a right that people already have, and that thousands have already taken advantage of. It makes discrimination an official part of the state constitution — just like the Jim Crow laws of the deep south — and confers a separate but unequal status on a sizable minority group.
And that can never be right, no matter how you dress it up.
I trust you to make your own decisions, for your own reason. All I ask is that you vote. And that you do the right thing, whatever that means to you.
But as for me, I’m voting no on 8.
Gary encourages us to Bike the Vote — I couldn’t agree more — while LAist tells you what retailers are willing to break the law by rewarding you for voting. Here’s proof that a three-foot passing limit isn’t just a figment of our imagination. Bike Girl braves that which Angelenos fear most, and describes how others can survive the rain, as well. My friends at Altadena Blog announced the 2008 edition of the Tour de Altadena for all you San Gabriel Valley riders. And Bicycle Fixation gets it’s 15 minutes of fame in USA today.
Category: General / Tags: bicycling, California, civil rights, Election 2008, equal rights, gay marriage, Los Angeles, Proposition 8, same-sex marriage
Today’s ride, in which I find my happy place
Sometimes, it seems like it’s all just too much.
From last week’s near-fatal allergy attack (that is, near-fatal in the sense that I felt like I was going to die, and wished I could just get it over with, already), to election campaigns in which the politics of fear and character assassination have replaced ideas hope — or compassion, for that matter.
Let alone trying to put together an email to raise funds for my brother’s dog sled team up in Alaska so he can compete in next year’s Iditarod, while simultaneously trying to find enough work to replace that new job that fell through last month.
Then there’s a part of me, as a former Colorado boy, that dies just a little every time I look out our window and see that familiar West L.A. skyline instead of snow-capped mountains.
So I put on a little Chris LeDoux — a genuine working cowboy and rodeo rider from just up the road in Wyoming who sang about, well, genuine working cowboys and rodeo riders, among other things — got myself together, and hopped onto my bike.
As I rode, I found myself transported back to the high plains, surrounded by native grasses as high as my shoulder, riding along trails once trod by the Apache, Arapaho, Comanche, Ute, Pawnee, Crow and Blackfoot tribes. Where the buffalo did, in fact, roam, and the antelope still play, and where I once watched a red fox (as opposed to Redd Foxx) casually stalk his prey, apparently unconcerned by the hawk circling high above.
Or I might have been high up in the Colorado Rockies, riding through groves of golden aspen and breathtaking vistas, with the occasional deer or elk standing alongside the road. Sometimes I’d see a bear rise up on his hind legs to watch me go by, trying to figure out what the hell kind of spandex-clad creature I was. Or maybe just calculating whether he could catch me, and if I’d be better with mustard or a nice Bordeaux reduction.
But then I ran into yet another movie crew needlessly blocking the bike lane to protect their massive trucks from encroaching cyclists, and found myself jolted back to the mean streets of Los Angeles as I was forced to take a lane in heavy, impatient traffic.
But I ended my reveries feeling a little brighter, and hopeful that hope is still stronger than fear — even in an election year. And happy once again to be right here where I am, in this ongoing love/hate relationship with L.A.
And I know that if life gets to be too much, I can just hop in the saddle and ride off into the sunset.
Even if that is just seven and half miles from here.
Damien and Will recap the first tour de Ballona, while Gary and Alex travel to New York for Bike Kill 666, where Alex revels in being a scofflaw while Gary contemplates traffic and God. Meanwhile, Timur relates his experiences at the first Bike Town Beta (man, I missed a busy weekend!), and creates a user-editable Google map for the local cycling community, to which I intend to contribute now that my pre-cyber era brain has finally figured out how it works. Flying Pigeon is hosting another Dim Sum ride from downtown to Alhambra, including free test rides. Streetsblog reports on why Americans don’t use bike lanes and bike paths. If they asked the question here, I think the most popular answer would be, “They don’t go anywhere”, followed by “I don’t want to get mugged.” And finally, it has nothing to do with cycling, but the Times is running a great series on the L.A.P.D.’s anti-gang squad from the city’s infamous noir era, with notable characters including Bugsy Seigal and Mickey Cohen.
Category: General / Tags: bicycling, Colorado, Los Angeles, Pawnee National Grassland, riding reveries, Rocky Mountain National Park
Today’s ride, in which I find my happy place
Sometimes, it seems like it’s all just too much.
From last week’s near-fatal allergy attack (that is, near-fatal in the sense that I felt like I was going to die, and wished I could just get it over with, already), to election campaigns in which the politics of fear and character assassination have replaced ideas hope — or compassion, for that matter.
Let alone trying to put together an email to raise funds for my brother’s dog sled team up in Alaska so he can compete in next year’s Iditarod, while simultaneously trying to find enough work to replace that new job that fell through last month.
Then there’s a part of me, as a former Colorado boy, that dies just a little every time I look out our window and see that familiar West L.A. skyline instead of snow-capped mountains.
So I put on a little Chris LeDoux — a genuine working cowboy and rodeo rider from just up the road in Wyoming who sang about, well, genuine working cowboys and rodeo riders, among other things — got myself together, and hopped onto my bike.
As I rode, I found myself transported back to the high plains, surrounded by native grasses as high as my shoulder, riding along trails once trod by the Apache, Arapaho, Comanche, Ute, Pawnee, Crow and Blackfoot tribes. Where the buffalo did, in fact, roam, and the antelope still play, and where I once watched a red fox (as opposed to Redd Foxx) casually stalk his prey, apparently unconcerned by the hawk circling high above.
Or I might have been high up in the Colorado Rockies, riding through groves of golden aspen and breathtaking vistas, with the occasional deer or elk standing alongside the road. Sometimes I’d see a bear rise up on his hind legs to watch me go by, trying to figure out what the hell kind of spandex-clad creature I was. Or maybe just calculating whether he could catch me, and if I’d be better with mustard or a nice Bordeaux reduction.
But then I ran into yet another movie crew needlessly blocking the bike lane to protect their massive trucks from encroaching cyclists, and found myself jolted back to the mean streets of Los Angeles as I was forced to take a lane in heavy, impatient traffic.
But I ended my reveries feeling a little brighter, and hopeful that hope is still stronger than fear — even in an election year. And happy once again to be right here where I am, in this ongoing love/hate relationship with L.A.
And I know that if life gets to be too much, I can just hop in the saddle and ride off into the sunset.
Even if that is just seven and half miles from here.
Damien and Will recap the first tour de Ballona, while Gary and Alex travel to New York for Bike Kill 666, where Alex revels in being a scofflaw while Gary contemplates traffic and God. Meanwhile, Timur relates his experiences at the first Bike Town Beta (man, I missed a busy weekend!), and creates a user-editable Google map for the local cycling community, to which I intend to contribute now that my pre-cyber era brain has finally figured out how it works. Flying Pigeon is hosting another Dim Sum ride from downtown to Alhambra, including free test rides. Streetsblog reports on why Americans don’t use bike lanes and bike paths. If they asked the question here, I think the most popular answer would be, “They don’t go anywhere”, followed by “I don’t want to get mugged.” And finally, it has nothing to do with cycling, but the Times is running a great series on the L.A.P.D.’s anti-gang squad from the city’s infamous noir era, with notable characters including Bugsy Seigal and Mickey Cohen.
Category: General / Tags: bicycling, Colorado, Los Angeles, Pawnee National Grassland, riding reveries, Rocky Mountain National Park
Today’s ride, in which I find my happy place
Sometimes, it seems like it’s all just too much.
From last week’s near-fatal allergy attack (that is, near-fatal in the sense that I felt like I was going to die, and wished I could just get it over with, already), to election campaigns in which the politics of fear and character assassination have replaced ideas hope — or compassion, for that matter.
Let alone trying to put together an email to raise funds for my brother’s dog sled team up in Alaska so he can compete in next year’s Iditarod, while simultaneously trying to find enough work to replace that new job that fell through last month.
Then there’s a part of me, as a former Colorado boy, that dies just a little every time I look out our window and see that familiar West L.A. skyline instead of snow-capped mountains.
So I put on a little Chris LeDoux — a genuine working cowboy and rodeo rider from just up the road in Wyoming who sang about, well, genuine working cowboys and rodeo riders, among other things — got myself together, and hopped onto my bike.
As I rode, I found myself transported back to the high plains, surrounded by native grasses as high as my shoulder, riding along trails once trod by the Apache, Arapaho, Comanche, Ute, Pawnee, Crow and Blackfoot tribes. Where the buffalo did, in fact, roam, and the antelope still play, and where I once watched a red fox (as opposed to Redd Foxx) casually stalk his prey, apparently unconcerned by the hawk circling high above.
Or I might have been high up in the Colorado Rockies, riding through groves of golden aspen and breathtaking vistas, with the occasional deer or elk standing alongside the road. Sometimes I’d see a bear rise up on his hind legs to watch me go by, trying to figure out what the hell kind of spandex-clad creature I was. Or maybe just calculating whether he could catch me, and if I’d be better with mustard or a nice Bordeaux reduction.
But then I ran into yet another movie crew needlessly blocking the bike lane to protect their massive trucks from encroaching cyclists, and found myself jolted back to the mean streets of Los Angeles as I was forced to take a lane in heavy, impatient traffic.
But I ended my reveries feeling a little brighter, and hopeful that hope is still stronger than fear — even in an election year. And happy once again to be right here where I am, in this ongoing love/hate relationship with L.A.
And I know that if life gets to be too much, I can just hop in the saddle and ride off into the sunset.
Even if that is just seven and half miles from here.
Damien and Will recap the first tour de Ballona, while Gary and Alex travel to New York for Bike Kill 666, where Alex revels in being a scofflaw while Gary contemplates traffic and God. Meanwhile, Timur relates his experiences at the first Bike Town Beta (man, I missed a busy weekend!), and creates a user-editable Google map for the local cycling community, to which I intend to contribute now that my pre-cyber era brain has finally figured out how it works. Flying Pigeon is hosting another Dim Sum ride from downtown to Alhambra, including free test rides. Streetsblog reports on why Americans don’t use bike lanes and bike paths. If they asked the question here, I think the most popular answer would be, “They don’t go anywhere”, followed by “I don’t want to get mugged.” And finally, it has nothing to do with cycling, but the Times is running a great series on the L.A.P.D.’s anti-gang squad from the city’s infamous noir era, with notable characters including Bugsy Seigal and Mickey Cohen.
Category: General / Tags: bicycling, Colorado, Los Angeles, Pawnee National Grassland, riding reveries, Rocky Mountain National Park
Bike law change #13: Require all employers to provide secure bicycle parking
Okay, so I lied. Yesterday I said I’d put up one final post in this series, for a total of 12. But this one is too important to leave off — even if it does leave me with an unlucky 13.
Because no effort to get people out of their cars and onto their bikes — not even financial inducements — will succeed unless bike commuters have a safe and secure place to put their bikes. But many employers and commercial landlords refuse to accommodate riders by providing a place to park their bikes or allowing riders to take their bikes into their offices with them.
And a simple bike rake on the sidewalk is nowhere near adequate, as anyone could tell you who has ever seen a wheel locked to a bike rack with the frame missing, or a frame missing its seat and wheels. Or worse, a severed chain or lock laying on the concrete, no longer attached to anything.
Then there’s the problem of leaving a bike exposed to the weather all day — not to mention the pigeons and seagulls that are so abundant around here.
So let’s require that every employer — no matter how large or small — provide safe and secure onsite bicycle parking for all their employees, whether in the form of bike lockers, a monitored section of the parking garage or a locked bike room. Or as an alternative, that employees be allowed to secure their bikes within their own work area as long as they are onsite.
Don’t forget tomorrow’s inaugural Bike Town Beta. And the Daily Breeze reports on the problems — and possible solutions — regarding the Ballona Creek bike path (thanks to Curbed LA for the link).
Category: General / Tags: bicycle commuting, bicycle safety, bicycling, bike racks, California Vehicle Code, Los Angeles, secure bicycle parking
Bike law change #12: Turn stop signs into yields, and red lights into stop signs
We’ve all been there.
Maybe you have the good sense to take a back street through a quiet neighborhood, rather than ride on a busy, traffic-choked thoroughfare. Except then you have to stop for a stop sign on every corner.
Of course, you could do what so many other riders do, and just blow through it as if it wasn’t there — which could result in a sizable ticket if you don’t happen to notice the cop parked around the corner. Or maybe you make the same compromise I do, and brake just enough to stop most, if not all, your forward momentum, then roll through the intersection before you have to clip out of your pedals.
Or maybe you find yourself at a deserted intersection in the middle of the night, enduring a seemingly interminable wait for a red light to change — even though it should have detected the presence of a cyclist.
Fortunately, there’s an easy — and obvious — solution that’s been proven to work in the state of Idaho for over a quarter of a century.
Of course, California isn’t Idaho. And what works there won’t necessarily work here with our heavy traffic and angry, indignorant drivers. But given some very minor modifications, it could be a very effective solution for our state, as well.
So follow the Idaho solution for stop signs, and allow cyclists to treat them as if they were yield signs — slow down, look around carefully, and in the absence of any conflicting traffic, proceed through the intersection.
For red lights, just come to a complete stop, ceasing all forward momentum, though not necessarily stopping so long that you have to put your foot down. If there is other traffic at the intersection — whether cross traffic or other vehicles on the same street waiting for the light to change — remain stopped and wait for the green light.
Because frankly, too many California drivers would get pissed off if they had to wait and you didn’t. Which means either they’d go through the light as well, or take out their anger on the next rider they see.
But if you’re the only one waiting at the light, you should be able to treat it like a stop sign. And once any cross traffic has passed, continue on your way without having to sit an wait for the light to change.
Damien Newton has recently discussed misleading press reports that make cyclists seem responsible for accidents that their fault (here and here); the Bicycling Lawyer addresses the same theme in his most recent column. The Times’ sister publication discusses how to get back on a bike if you haven’t ridden in years. And a tribute to a fallen cyclist is held in Kentucky — as the police investigate yet another cycling accident.
Category: General / Tags: bicycle safety, bicycling, California Vehicle Code, Idaho bicycling regulations, Los Angeles, red lights, stops signs, yield for traffic
