Welcoming Spots

I was finally able to get an appointment for a long overdue haircut. I usually cut my own hair, but from time to time go to a super-deluxe salon, Bumble and Bumble, for a little pampering. The salon in the Meatpacking District is huge and fabulous, and Denise (who cuts my hair) is an artist. This salon is always buzzing with ritzy people in expensive clothes - and the salon is ALWAYS cool about the bike being in the shop. I bring it right up in the elevator, wheel it in and lean it on the window in plain view. These kinds of places quickly become favorite spots for me and I appreciate businesses who go the extra distance to be accomodating. I had a chance to meet the founder, Michael Gordon, when our firm did some work for Bumble and Bumble - he is a true gentleman and, I suspect, the guiding example for how the staff treats customers.



I rode home in the dark through Manhattan to the Williamsbug bridge - this scene was shot in Williamsburg. There is a neighborhood populated largely by Hasidic families; Rosh Hashana was celebrated this past week. They are participating in a Tashlich ceremony, they symbolically "throw away" their sins by praying and tossing bread crumbs into a flowing body of water.

Bad Driver Meets Bad Driver

I have a special disdain for the people who drive cabs and buses in New York. I am going to indulge myself and paint with a wide brush here - they are terrible, hateful drivers! I was heading to Brooklyn yesterday evening after work - I had a little time and decided to take the scenic route, heading west on 25th street towards the west side bike path. Immediately after I crossed Broadway a cab pulls up behind me and starts honking and yelling - apparently he was in a very big hurry to get 75 feet up the road and wait in line behind the five other cars stacked up at the red light.

Nothing in this world makes me ride slowly down the middle of the street like a jerk in a cab honking his horn to get to a red light. 25th street is full of potholes, cracks, and bad patch jobs and I have to swerve all over the road to avoid going into one of these hazards and cracking a rim - or my skull.

The guy in the cab pulled up next to me (he appeared to be Middle Eastern) and shouts at me in a thick accent, "get the fuck outta here you mothafucka, I been in this country longer than you mothafokka! - I been here 4 years, get the fuck outta my way!" He held out four fingers to illustrate the four years he has been here (motthafucka!), and pulled up beside me. "What are you Russian? you stupid motherfuck? Get outta this country! Fuck you, you Russian mothafock!" Then he turned onto 6th Avenue and was gone. That was some serious hate. And people say immigrants don't assimilate to American culture anymore? I beg to differ, this guy has been here four years and he already thinks foreigners are wrecking the place!

This morning on my way into work I rode up to the intersection of 27th and 3rd Avenue to see the crash in the pictures at the top and bottom of this posting. I am surprised it doesn't happen more. Cabs have a way of veering across several lanes of traffic without looking around too much, confident in their belief that any move is safe as long as it involves rapid acceleration. Buses pull away from the curb like a hulking beast lumbering unaware from its mudhole; that it could be hurt by some lesser vehicle is a failure of imagination on the part of the bus.

I Feel Explosive!

Tuesday was a quiet day of riding for me. I rode in early again for a meeting. Early riding is good riding in NYC, the traffic is calm. One thing I love about Tuesday mornings is that the trash trucks are out all along the route that I take into the office. They smell terrible (this is less noticeable as the cool weather sets in) but they block a lot of traffic which means that as you pedal cross-town, the streets are virtually car free! And there is always something satisfying about zipping past the lines of honking cars trapped behind the busy trash truck.

I rode in over the Williamsburg Bridge, they have closed the north bike lane so I have to pedal up the south side ramp, which is much much steeper. The morning light is really nice and it is easy to stop noticing the spectacular view when you do this every day. My trip back to Brooklyn took me over the Brooklyn Bridge; I was heading to a restaurant, Kili, to meet some old friends for a drink. The evening light on the Brooklyn Bridge was lovely - a nice day's riding, bookended by two bridge views.

Out With the Old

The day started off really well - I had a morning meeting at a project site in the East 70's. Since I was just meeting with contractors and not clients, I decided to ride my bike to the meeting instead of going to the office first to change. I rode accross the Brooklyn Bridge to Chambers Street and then onto the West side bike path - stopping to take pictures of a crane that was pulling up chunks of a deteriorated pier, just above Battery Park City.

The meeting went well - uneventful - and I rode back down to my office at 27th and 5th, taking Park Avenue all the way South. It was a great ride - I went through the Met Life building that straddles and divides Park Avenue in midtown. A spooky, dark tunnel through the building's base that curves and winds, finally scrubbing some speed off of the crazyfast cab drivers who shoot down 5th Avenue.

I got an email in the afternoon from my ex, Liz, telling me that our divorce had been granted by the state and that we were officially single on 13 September 2006. I had come to peace with our separation, this news brought a lot of old feelings to the surface and I was a little shell-shocked the rest of the day. It reminded me a little of the scene with the crane this morning - dredging up and dismantling the last vestiges of some almost forgotten thing to make room for something new.