Men In Skirts

This Summer, the weather in France is hot. So hot that male bus-drivers want to wear shorts at work. Unfortunately, a dress-code rule for their employment forbids shorts. The drivers protested but to no avail.

So what did they choose to do? Wearing skirts! Skirts are permitted by the dress-code. Even though obviously intended for women, the rule doesn't limit skirts to women so they are technically permitted for anyone, male or female.

Here's the story. No word on whether the drivers are shaving their legs...  :-)

What do you think?

Another Reason To Love Canada!

Our compassionate neighbor to the north just passed a law protecting transgender people from discrimination and harm. It's described in this news article.

One might think this protection is so self-evident it ought to be law everywhere but you'd be surprised. Many U.S. states don't have it and neither does U.S. federal law. There are a few local laws here and there but, on the whole, transgender people in my country are subject to discrimination and harm without legal redress.

An important significance of laws like this are their cultural symbolism. This is what a Canadian legislator said: "Transgender and gender-diverse people deserve to know that they are welcome and accepted, embraced and protected, and that in Canada they are free to be their true selves."

Amen!

Defying Expectations

My whole life I've defied expectations. People make assumptions about me based on external appearances but their assumptions are wrong. It happened again today, in a different direction than usual.

Every motorcyclist will tell you we get approached by strangers in public. The encounters are usually pleasant and fall into two categories. Most common are older men who compliment your bike and tell you they rode in their youth. Their story usually ends with "...then I got married and my wife said I couldn't ride any more." These guys are wistful and sad.

The second group of strangers, frequently older women, want to scold you. They tell you that their neighbor's brother's kid got killed on a motorcycle and imply that such is your fate. Explaining the satisfying joy of motorcycle-riding to these people is a futile endeavor.

So I'm out on The Jolly Roger today, my fiery red sportbike. I pull into a parking lot and notice a kid in his twenties mesmerized by my bike. He gawks at my expensive gear and can't take his eyes off me. When I remove my helmet, he really wigs out. From ten feet away, he yells "Dude! You're old!"

I wasn't sure what he meant by that so I didn't react. He quickly turns apologetic and tries to explain himself. "I mean, that bike's got balls! I never expected you to be riding it." Okay, so it was seeing my grey hair that shocked him. He didn't expect to see a geezer like me piloting a motorcycle this sporty. I smiled and said, "You're only old when you choose to be old."

If I wanted to further surprise the kid, I could have told him I'm really a girl. But that would have caused his head to explode and I didn't want to clean pieces of his brain off the bike.

Life On Two Wheels

Heading out on an aimless motorcycle ride
relaxed yet spirited pace
into the night
on my poem of a bike
which pours my soul into the wind

Survival

Today is the last day for the Goethals Bridge which connects New York to New Jersey. The bridge, erected 89 years ago, is being torn down. Starting tomorrow, traffic will flow over a new bridge built next to the old one. The new crossing is the first bridge built in New York since 1931.

This development has personal significance to me. Fifteen years ago I almost died on the Goethals Bridge -- and I'm not exaggerating. Hit by a car while riding my motorcycle, I was thrown off my bike and ended up on the cold roadway with four broken ribs and a collapsed lung. As I lay on my back, I tried to breathe. I couldn't. I simply could not breathe. That condition seemed to last forever and I became increasingly alarmed at the fact that if I did not start breathing, it was going to be lights out. My mind focused with the intensity that comes when you face death up close.

Part of the reason I was in this accident was the bridge's poor design. It has two lanes each way with no shoulder. Traffic in the right lane is cramped by a waist-high concrete railing that offers no space for lateral movement.

I was riding home in the left lane after spending Thanksgiving in New Jersey. A young man in the right lane was speeding and suddenly realized his car was going going to rear-end and crash into the vehicle in front of him. Unable to veer right onto a shoulder, he veered left without looking. And I happened to be in that space on my motorcycle.

I spent a week in a Staten Island hospital and a month recovering at home. Fortunately I'm fully healed with no lingering physical effects.

I often think about what would have happened had I been unable to start breathing during my unplanned visit to the bridge's pavement. Instead of telling you this story, I would have been buried and quietly forgotten. Fifteen years ago blogs didn't exist and most of you who've met me here would not have ever known about me.

I'm happy to report that the new bridge has 12-foot shoulders, giving poor drivers a place to go when speeding and panicking.

Tim Hortons

Pop quiz -- Where am I?

Most of you know how fond I am of our neighbor to the north. I've visited Canada several times and plan to ride up there again next month to see Suzanne in Toronto.

Tim Hortons is a ubiquitous coffee-shop with thousands of locations throughout Canada. It is their Dunkin Donuts. Tim Hortons coffee has even entered the culture of the country, with customers ordering "Double Doubles" and everyone knowing what that means.

I'm not in Canada (yet). I discovered the single Tim Hortons coffee-shop on Long Island. It's tucked into a gas-station in Westbury. I'm here today on my way home from court to sample their wares.

Tim Hortons offers breakfast foods and baked goods but the star of their show is the coffee. It is excellent. The beans are mild like Dunkin Donuts but with much richer flavor. For those who prefer regular coffee to gourmet-blends (e.g., Starbucks), Tim Hortons' coffee is simply perfect.

While I'm only 15 minutes away from home, I feel like a Canadian right now. I'm rooting for a hockey team and plan to add an extension to my igloo.

Have you ever tried Tim Hortons' coffee?

NYC With A Friend

Riding into Manhattan yesterday, the view from my train window of the blue sky and white clouds was spectacular.

I went into the city to see Patti, a fashion blogger who lives in Florida but visits New York twice a year. It was my 5th time meeting her in person. We share a common BFF, the irresistible Suzanne.

After a light brunch, Patti and I went shopping at some well-curated urban thrift-stores. One was Housing Works, a charitable organization that helps people with AIDS and those who are homeless. I found a fun skirt there in a faux reptile-skin print. Its bright blue color telegraphs it as obviously fake while the animal-print is visually interesting. I'm going to build a fun outfit around it this week.

Coincidentally, we later went to a museum exhibition at the Fashion Institute of Technology on the subject of how nature influences fashion ("Force of Nature"). The pieces on display were thought-provoking. Art and fashion have looked to nature for hundreds of years. Leonardo daVinci once said that “those who are inspired by a model other than Nature, a mistress above all masters, are laboring in vain.”

What did you do this weekend?