I'll ride that dream to the end of the line

I'm gonna take you, New York, I'll make it happen

I'm on the caboose, I'm drinking Manhattans

And I know someday they're going to name a street after me

Right next door to old Franklin D.

- Tom

The Managing Partner and I just returned from a weekend in New York City. What a town! This was a complete tourist visit; a full-on fanny pack, Bermuda shorts, Griswold affair. We visited the 9/11 Memorial, which was, as you no doubt know, an extraordinary experience.

9/11 Memorial

And of course saw the so-called Freedom Tower. It is an extraordinary odalisque, but remember that no matter how large, proud and rigid One World Trade Center is, the nation's capital still boasts the original national phallus. And don't you forget it!

Freedom Tower

I'm really looking forward to seeing how the Transportation Hub turns out. It is still in its early phases of construction, suggesting some sort of skeleton made out of recycled naval ships or airplane wings. Maybe the location put the image in my mind, but the form kind of reminded me of jet turbines. However it turns out, it is sure to be unique.

The World Trade Center Transportation Hub

We also took in the High Line park which I have wanted to visit for some years but just never had the opportunity. I must say it lived up to expectations, though I was surprised at how crowded it was. It was a lovely day, but by the time we reached the north terminus, it felt like we were marching single file in some sort of abattoir chute. Where's Temple Grandin when you need her? Nevertheless, it was a lovely day, the park is indeed visionary and a joy to experience, and we had a lovely drink at the GastroMarket afterward.

<The Bummer Report>
The one sad note of the entire weekend was the absolute, unforgivable failure of the Citi Bike system. We purchased two 24-hour passes and eagerly anticipated the ride from the end of the High Line to our pied-à-terre in the upper 50's. I had downloaded the app, mapped out the route and was anxious to be initiated into the troubled system that has somehow out shined DC's earlier, more successful bike sharing system. But, after attempting to release over a dozen bikes at three stations that the app indicated had available bikes, and a call to support, The Managing Partner vetoed the adventure and we hailed a cab. I know mine is probably not a statistically representative example, but this first foray made a very poor first impression. Several similar attempts have led to very positive experiences with Capital Bike Share. I don't know what's wrong with Citi Bike. As usual, the tawdry, erratic New York slut gets all the attention while the dowdy, dependable DC dame gets treated like a redheaded stepchild.
</The Bummer Report>

The real revelation of the trip was Roosevelt Island. We were staying at a friend's apartment up in the East 50's and looking around for an interesting place to stroll, we found ourselves taking the Roosevelt Island Tramway over and spending a morning wandering the island. 

NYC via gondola

The entire island from the tramway south is made up of an old ruined hospital and two absolutely wonderful parks - Southpoint Park, and The FDR Four Freedoms park. Southpoint Park is filled with incredible flora, offering unparalleled views of the iconic East Side. It's organic forms contrast gorgeously with the relentlessly linear angles of the city's skyline.

Southpoint Park is an oasis of bloom with stunning views of the city

AND they have a ruined Gothic Smallpox hospital in the park! Now that's upscale tourism. You can't actually go into the hospital, but it looks all spooky and evocative just seeing it from outside the perimeter fence. I'll bet it looks spectacular when they light it up at night. Alas, time was limited and we were not able to enjoy that pleasure. It'll have to wait for another trip, I guess.

Welcome to the Roosevelt Island Smallpox hospital

Given the recent revelations at NIH, perhaps we ought to think about restoring this hospital 

The FDR Four Freedoms park was every bit the surprise Southpoint had been. Laid out in rigid geometric symmetry, juxtaposed nicely against Southpoint's meandering, naturalistic forms, the Four Freedom park focuses attention on a mammoth bust of FDR, the reverse of which contains the words for which the park is named. It is a moving tribute to the man and a reminder of the shame we should feel every single day for having failed to live up to the noble aspirations he established.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt on his island

FDR's Four Freedoms

We were there on a Sunday morning. It seemed like we had the whole place to ourselves. By noon the island was crawling with Japanese tourists. Take that for what it's worth (nothing).

And I've only described the southern third of Roosevelt Island. The northern section contains some extraordinary architecture, more parks, public art, and a lighthouse. There's even a little downtown with a few eateries that look worthy of exploration. We were rushed for time and didn't get the chance to fully delve into all there is on offer, but we will very likely be back to have another look.

Red and ripe

Tomato, tom-ah-to. Call 'em what you will, they are getting ripe and ready to pluck from the vine. Lovely, organic fruit grown right in front of your eyes. It's not a big event in the scheme of things. Obviously we eat food every day that has gone through the same life cycle; one that, frankly would be difficult to suppress if we wanted to. But somehow seeing food grown in person is like witnessing an extraordinary thing. The metamorphosis from seed to fruit is truly amazing to watch. It's kind of life affirming really.

Let's call the whole thing off. 

To arms, cyclists! The war is on!

“In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility; but when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger; stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, disguise fair nature with hard-favor'd rage.” 
― William Shakespeare, Henry V

Bike Joust by Karl Addison

In this morning's Post, Transportation writer Ashley Halsey III writes a response to a rash of recent columns about cyclists that have appeared over the past few days, in particular this tirade from Courtland Milloy which followed this one by John Kelly. And this piece by Rachel Sadon. And this one by Sarah Kaplan. And this one by Petula Dvorak. Looks like a busy time around the water cooler for the editorial staff at the Post. I can assure you, the Comments engine at the paper must be at near capacity.

These commentaries follow a firestorm created by an ill-considered tweet from NPR's Scott Simon, which prompted this extremely well articulated response from Carl Alviani on Medium which referenced a retort tweet from BikeSnobNYC. Suddenly cycling editorials are coming out of nowhere!

A casual observer might be forgiven for concluding from the histrionic rhetoric that there is a war in this country between motorists and cyclists. In some senses there is a war; if only for funding, for space, for equal protection under law. It's an engagement reminiscent of the great American Civil War, only now pedestrians are fighting for exclusive rights to the sidewalks, cyclists are fighting for equal rights to the road, and motorists are fighting to preserve their right to continue to slaughter over 30,000 people per year in what they term "accidents". Thankfully, the fight is so far limited to the Op Ed pages of newspapers and blogs with the occasional intrusion into transportation funding meetings. Oh, and of course on YouTube, the world's new public square. 

It would be easy to be discouraged by the insane vitriol spewed by people on both sides of this debate, but I have to say I find it somewhat promising. First, it's good to know that the most significant event the Op Ed columnists of the world can think to write about on a given morning is that goddamn bicyclist that jumped a stop sign on the way to work. Or that had the audacity to ride on the sidewalk in the extremely small area downtown where that behavior is illegal. I'd much rather read about that than about actual tragedies that happen when cars ride on the sidewalks and people actually die rather than just being annoyed and possibly inconvenienced. 

And that there are so many of these rant-a-torials must be an indication that cycling has reached a certain critical mass making it worthy of comment. Cyclists are now having such an impact on the comings and goings of our fellow citizens that we warrant being hated, which is a clear sign of significance. At least we are now sufficiently annoying that we must be reckoned with. And now that drivers are pissed off, maybe they'll want to do something about it, like vote to increase transportation funding so the bicycle commuters don't have to share the roads with their laughable Humscalades they bought to chauffeur their kids to school. 

Maybe now that all these nasty cyclists are forcing drivers to repeatedly press the brake and gas pedals and maybe turn the steering wheel more often, they'll have no alternative but to recognize that there are other human beings in the world, people with different priorities and lifestyles; fellow citizens whose admittedly conflicting rights need to be taken into consideration. Nah... what am I thinking? They'll just keep bitching and spending their ever-shrinking transportation dollars on their ever-expanding superhighways so we can all spend our entire, pointless lives sitting in gigantic vehicles going zero miles per hour on Interstate 95 between Springfield and Fredericksburg. Goddamn bicycles!