The Accidental Gentrifist: Two Wheels Good, Four Wheels Bad (1 of 3)

Editors’ Note: The opinions and ideas expressed in The Accidental Gentrifist are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the outlook or beliefs of anyone else in the Ist network.
After a brief hiatus, I’ve gotten back on the bike. Tubes have been patched, a chain has been greased. If only my lungs and legs could benefit from such mechanical improvement.
Not that I expect to live long on these streets. [I’m told that listening to headphones while riding a bike makes the experience more dangerous, but I think that must be relative to context. Riding down Guadalupe in the afternoon, I can’t imagine the situation could be made much worse. I’m pretty sure I’m going to get squished by the Chevy Tahoe that even now lingers in the shadows of my fate, I just want to be listening to Sabbath when it happens.]
Bike riding in Austin is a special experience. Sometimes, I’m almost empathetic to the dead—but soon to be reanimated, I’m sure—Helmet Law. Recently, I heard a brief bit on the radio about a long-term study being conducted in a local hospital’s emergency room. Only it was kind of laughable, as the person attached to the study described it in such a way that he made it patently clear the study would ignore a plethora of relevant factors, and manifest a heavy, almost automatic conclusion-generating bias. All it needs is the perfunctory insertion of ‘data.’
Most notably, the test is being undergone in emergency rooms, and not the countless living rooms of people who make it home without incident.
A year ago, Michael Bluejay of BicycleAustin.Info wrote an open letter to Dr. Patrick J. Crocker, Chief of Emergency Medicine at Brackenridge, and one of this city’s primary champions of a law enforcing mandatory helmet wearing by cyclists of all ages anywhere in the city. It’s a pretty exhaustive response, but it’s not mine. My response to any Helmet Law is my own Law of Helmets.
The Law of Helmets is more like the Law of Gravity, especially in that you won’t get a citation for violating it, but you might get splattered all over the pavement for trying.
It states that any activity requiring a supplement to the human body’s naturally-developed defenses against trauma should be immediately reassessed and checked for signs of insanity.
Some examples:
War: 20 Million people died in WWI, and at least half were military. Many, if not all of the olive-drab dead wore steel helmets at the time…you know, to protect them from any trauma they might endure from the largest assembly of shrieking mechanized destruction in human history.
NASCAR: This law also extends to roll bars, flame-retardant jumpsuits, a 225mph mode of transportation requiring a fire extinguisher, and any situation where 50,000 sunburned, dough-faced hickoids drunk on Natural Light are entertained by watching you drive in circles, secretly hoping you crash (preferably with a flip or two).
Bullet-Proof Vests: Why are people shooting at you often enough that this becomes a good investment?
The Pope-Mobile: [Please see entries for both Bullet-Proof Vests and NASCAR]
The overall conclusion is that if a certain activity requires an extra layer of protection to the body's natural defense against trauma, then maybe you should rethink the basic justification behind your participation in said activity. The more layers of protection, the more insane the activity. Look at the evolution of car safety: Chrome bumpers, seat belts, anti-lock disc brakes, air bags, six air bags… all this so we may continue to drive machines that are so deadly, they’re responsible for nearly half of all accidental deaths in this country, and more than a quarter of everything the National Safety Council calls ‘External Causes’ of Mortality.
As a species, we will endure the most obvious insanities in order to maintain policies that prioritize comfort over reason.
There are exceptions, of course. Evel Kneivel. Space Travel. Construction sites. American Football. All situations where the good of humanity justifies a few inches of foam and hard plastic, maybe even a nylon harness. But I don’t think riding your bike down Red River should necessarily qualify as a hazardous pursuit.
Because, in reality, the behavior of cyclists themselves is not an argument for their own hypothetical need of helmets. Motorists are. Face it. I can peacefully coexist with this anti-logic, after all, the fine folks at Bell Helmets have kids too. But when people want to make it into a law, I gotta say no fuckin' dice. Policeman stay away.
My bike doesn’t pollute, doesn’t use up parking, doesn’t run over and kill little old ladies, can safely be operated by an intoxicated person, doesn’t exacerbate global warming, and it isn’t a venue for a sticker portraying Calvin urinating on anything. And, since it keeps me healthier than if I always drove, it lessens the likelihood diabetes or heart disease will cause me to consume your tax dollars. Unless of course I get hit by a car.
If a system is broken, why should the onus to safely maintain it rest on the one functional aspect?
I’ve been hit by cars a few times. So I started riding on the sidewalk whenever it seemed safer. Naturally I got stopped by a bunch of asshole cops who didn’t tolerate my core binary argument: The street isn’t safe and I don’t want to die. These interactions always left me pissed off, because cops (who were riding bicycles on the sidewalk, by the way) intervened to protect me from protecting myself. In terms of policy, our boys in blue are where the rubber meets the road. Or sidewalk. So naturally, they’re going to be the visible evidence of a broken system.
In full confession mode, I should relate that I have been ruined by Amsterdam. Have you ever been? Actually, it’s #1 in Virgin’s list of the world’s 11 most bicycle-friendly cities (of which Austin is, unsurprisingly, not a part). The Dam on Amstel has multi-storied parking garages for bicycles, 40% of commuter traffic by pedos, and 250 miles of bike lanes, which circle everywhere. But here’s the best part: the bike lanes are separated from the road by pedestrian sidewalks. It’s a simple, amazing idea: separate the calm, slow traffic of happy, two-wheeled earth-lovers with the demons whose four-wheel carnage only propels the planet faster toward its own person-made destruction. On an evolutionary scale, it’s almost beatific: letting the beautifully stoned two-wheelers tone their asses and thighs as the rest of the world destroys itself in the head-on collision of commuter life/vehicular homicide, with only the foot-bound masses agile enough to get out of the way.
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