Update on Nora

I realize that the post title looks like a news flash regarding a hurricane. Alas, it’s not. It’s actually good. I emailed the National Bike History Archive of America (yes, there really is such a thing) some time ago to find out whatever I could about Nora, the bike my lady fair saved from the landfill. I just received this email this morning:

“The bicycle you have indeed is a 1942-43 "Victory" war restricted model made to government specifications for WWII war workers. These usually did not have headbadges since brass was restricted from used in WWII- as was chrome. Even the plastic grips are WWII spec. It was made by the Huffman Company (now Huffy). It is a nice piece that ought to be saved.”

Well then, I’ll do just that! All the more reason to leave it completely original.

Still Humming

I had an amazing connection with nature this past Friday. I was working on my Goldwing (imagine!), and I could hear something dropping through the maple tree to my left. It was too heavy to be a leaf, but way too light to be a stick.

I walked over to the wall that the tree hangs over, and there was a hummingbird laid flat out on its stomach, panting, wings spread, and its tiny tongue lapped at the air. It was a sad sight and I figured it would just be a matter of minutes before it expired. I couldn’t figure out how it came to fall and rest there, because it was a full-size adult and I doubt it fell out of a nest. I wondered if it had gotten stung by any one of the dozens of hornets that had been hanging around the hummingbird feeders.

I rubbed its belly a little and then scooped it into my hand. This bird is so light, I couldn’t even really feel it. Its lack of weight offered no resistance or pressure against my fingers as I rubbed its belly and wing, and I feared I would inadvertently crush its seemingly nonexistent skeleton. I’ve never held a living bird before, especially something as elusive as a hummingbird. I held it in the palm of my hand and just studied and studied. Did you know hummingbirds have eyelashes? One would expect such a diminutive creature to blink so quickly that there wouldn’t even be an indication of eyelids, but this one had some of the most languid blinks I’d ever seen on a bird.

Still convinced that it would ultimately expire in my hand, I took it inside to show my little brother. After a couple minutes, the bird straightened up a little as I continued rubbing its belly. I figured I had probably better head outside. My lady fair arrived and took some pictures with her cell phone (note my predictably greasy hands), and the little guy continued to hang out in my palm for about five minutes. Without warning, it just flew away. It was just beautiful and pretty much all I talked about for the rest of the weekend.

It Was Only a Matter of Time

Chinese Factory Worker Can't Believe The Shit He Makes For Americans

FENGHUA, CHINA-Chen Hsien, an employee of Fenghua Ningbo Plastic Works Ltd., a plastics factory that manufactures lightweight household items for Western markets, expressed his disbelief Monday over the "sheer amount of shit Americans will buy."

I saw the above on the Onion some time ago, and thought it a rather opportune time to reference it.

Want to curb your spending right quick? Try only buying things that aren't made in China. As an experiment, I went out at lunch in search of a pair of sunglasses and shoes. I came back empty-handed. I even looked at expensive stuff like Giorgio Brutini, and whaddya know: fatto in Cina.

Christmas Tree Shop, Target, Wal-Mart, etc., would not be the huge successes they are without China. Yard sales probably wouldn't exist, either. The reality is, if I want to buy something random like a pair of sunglasses or just a decent pair of shoes, 99% of the time it was made in China. One has to actually go out of their way to find something that wasn't, and good luck trying to find something that was actually made in the U.S.

Believe me, I'm just like anyone else in that I don't like overpaying for anything.

Some years ago, there was an ad campaign for Made In U.S.A., and I immediately dismissed it as "sure, if I were confident the quality was there, maybe I'd buy more stuff made in the U.S. But if it's going to be more expensive than, say, a Japanese version of the same thing, why bother?"

Well, that was a myopic and stupid reaction. At that point, I had no idea what was really lying underneath--the fate of the American worker. I've learned a lot the past couple years, and if faced with a choice between a $5 item or $1 Chinese knockoff, I'll spring for the extra $4, thanks. For every new product you see on the market, I guarantee you that within a year that market will be flooded with Chinese knockoffs at a fraction of the price, but it's a rose by another name. Remember the Razor scooters? Remember the safety hazards and recalls that followed because of the knockoffs? Well, I don't blame the Chinese, whom I suspect see little to none of the of that precious Bottom Line.

They didn't just decide to become a major player in the manufacturing game overnight. There must be a market for this crap, otherwise it wouldn't exist. The market is driven by American greed disguised as frugality, with a blind eye turned toward tomorrow. We're a nation of consumption junkies, plain and simple.

Do I own things that were made in China? Sure I do. I recognize that I am perilously close to hypocrisy here. But I was oblivious to the long-term effects, and it honestly never occurred to me to check for country of origin. My bicycles, for example, were made in China. But it's not as if I can return them, and if it were possible to that based on principle, I would. This isn't some weird liberal crusade I'm on. I'm just genuinely concerned for the future of American labor, and due to China's recent increase in its devouring of natural resources at an alarming rate and its effect on the environment, it freaks me out more than a little. Their closest rival in resource consumption is the U.S., and that is not a good sign.

Demolition Derby, or a Not-So-Great Adventure

Do you drive a Honda Element? If so, then you’re in good hands.

My Lady Fair and I headed down to Hightstown NJ this past weekend to attend my grandparents’ 65th(!) anniversary party. The party and visit were great, but the traffic was, in a word, stupefying. First of all, the drivers. Driving like a jackass hopped up on goofballs is bad enough, but driving like a jackass with your kids in the car is a whole new level of Jackassery (from where Jackasses graduate). Secondly, the Turnpike was backed up for a good fifteen miles or so because unbeknownst to us, the exit after the one we were to take was for Six Flags Great Adventure. Evidently, everyone in the Western Hemisphere had opted to go to Six Flags on Saturday.

When there are backups, accidents are inevitable because people just aren’t paying attention--we saw the aftermath of rear-end collisions seemingly every two miles or so. And that was just on the Turnpike. The actual trip on the way down notwithstanding, a great time was had by all and we even got to see my new twin nephews.

On the way back on Sunday, it was a festival of ineptitude and stupidity all over the Merritt Parkway. Again, more rear-end collisions, cars spun out in the median, etc. I had remarked to LF that the shame of the Merritt is that it’s such a beautiful drive, but its beauty is marred by the idiocy that has afflicted so many of those who travel it. Mind you, the weather on both days was beautifully sunny, dry, and about 85 degrees. More ideal traveling weather, I couldn’t give you. As we were about a mile from the exit for Route 84, I noticed in the southbound lane that there was a spun-out Ford Explorer in the right shoulder. Inevitably, the rubberneckers did their obligatory rubbernecking and completely disrupted the flow of traffic. Again, people not paying attention—not paying attention to what they should be, anyway.

An eighth of a mile after that, still in the southbound lane, I saw tire smoke come from a Honda Element. Sure enough, it started to spin out. Then, as the saying goes, everything went into slow-motion. It then began to roll. And roll. And roll. I was in the passing lane on the northbound side at this point and as I watched it roll, I realized that it was probably going to go over the guardrail and collide right into us. Mind you, I could only speculate that this was going to happen because it was not unlike trying to determine which direction a football will bounce when it hits the ground.

The Element continued to roll, and I think in total it rolled seven times, enough time for me to think, “Oh my God, is it EVER going to stop rolling? How many people are in it? Do they have seatbelts on? What number does one dial to get the police when you’re on the road? Is it taking out other cars in its path?” As it rolled, it’s as if a huge pair of tweezers kept picking at and dissecting it; a wheel assembly here, a strut over there, whatever contents were in the car, a bumper there. Glass everywhere. Really, the only word to describe the scene was surreal. It looked far too Hollywood to actually be happening.

I and the rest of the traffic managed to get to the shoulder and stop. We all just sat there for about five seconds, waiting for it to stop rolling, absolutely stunned. Once it stopped, right side up, about twenty of us jumped out of our cars and ran to the Element. I saw smoke, so I figured that regardless of what kind of condition the driver was in (he was alone), we had to get him out of there. I ran up to the car and every one of the car’s fluids minus the gasoline had dumped onto the highway. The red transmission fluid gushed like so much spilled blood, and I almost hit the pavement after slipping in it. The driver, thankfully, had his seatbelt on, and the smoke I saw was actually from the deployed airbags. The doors wouldn’t open but all the glass had been blown out, so I could see that he was conscious, in one piece, and in shock. That's the other thing about coming up on an accident scene like that--you have no idea what you're about to see as far as injuries go and the walk to the car has you preparing for the worst.

I quickly assessed the situation. Once I saw just how many people were surrounding the car, I decided that my presence wasn’t going to make any difference. All I wanted to know was whether the key had been turned off. I learned somewhere that if one comes upon an accident scene, the very least you should do is make sure they key is off, so no electrical shorts can ignite any errant flammable liquids. Someone replied in the affirmative that they turned off the key, so I headed back to my car.

As I rolled forward and got back into the left lane, I could see that his sunroof had at some point left the car and landed right in my lane. Had we not pulled over, it would have either hit my car or the one behind us.

Not surprisingly, it was rather quiet in our car the rest of the trip.