What's in a name?

One thing about bicycle commuting is that you have a lot of time to think. I try to keep my thoughts positive, but sometimes stuff happens to make that difficult.

For example, I'm riding along, minding my own business, when I see a garbage truck making a left turn. Pretty normal behaviour, right? Except that this garbage truck is closing in on an elderly lady who is crossing the street on the walk light. Rather than coming to a complete stop and waiting for the woman to clear the intersection, the driver chooses to maintain only light pressure on the brake, so that the truck eases its way towards her, making it clear that she is taking too long to cross, and that it is only because the driver doesn't want a black mark on his record that he is allowing her to proceed. I feel indignant. And then I notice the irony. The name of the garbage company is Green for Life. My quick-thinking mind thinks of a more fitting moniker: Green for Death.

This is the beginning of a new trend. During the next few weeks as I ride in the protected bike lanes downtown, I happen to notice that not once, not twice, but three times, either I or a fellow cyclist has a close call with a DynaLife driver. You guessed it -- that company's name is now DynaDeath.

Then one winter day, weary of jiggling my way over the packed snow and ice covering the marked on-street bike route through Glenora, I decide to try the sidewalk on Stony Plain Road. Maybe, just maybe the home and business owners along that stretch have cleared the walk and it will be a better ride. I know, of course, that it is not strictly kosher to ride a bike on the sidewalk, but when the city refuses to clear the roads on the bike routes, it can be mighty tempting. And so I give in to temptation. Ah joy, most of the sidewalk is indeed cleared of ice and snow, and it is a pretty good ride. Until I reach the walk in front of Young Life. Or should I say, Young Death? I'm not exactly young, but as I rode on their sidewalk, I felt the hand of death.

This is fun. I entertain family and friends by telling them about my renaming spree.

Then summer rolls around. Construction abounds, most of it necessary, but truly mystifying is the creation of benches and planters on the path connecting the 121 Street bike lane with the 105 Avenue bike lane -- a short path behind the Brewery District plaza. It was a nice clear route, but for some reason the powers that be decided to festoon the path with planters and benches. What was previously a direct, hazard-free ride has become an obstacle course. A glance at the vests of the workers and I have the chance to re-christen yet another company. Wilco -- classic shorthand for "will comply" -- becomes Wilinco (stress on the second syllable: "will-IN-co") -- short for "will inconvenience". And they live up to their new name in days to come, running a large hose across the path one day, and parking one of their vehicles on the path another day.

Anyone want to join in the fun?

reflections on long red lights

Anyone who bicycle commutes in Edmonton knows the city-planners' rule: if there is a red light on a bicycle route, it should be an extra-long red light.

This is true at a couple of the intersections on 106 Street heading south from the river. It is also true at 102 Ave. and 116 St.; 105 Ave. and 116 St.; 105 Ave. and 109 St.; at 121 Street and 104 Avenue; at Kingsway near the Royal Alex; at 111 Street near the transit centre. The list could go on.

I have to admit, sometimes this really irks me, especially when the wind chill is around -35 C and I am literally the only person at the intersection, waiting, waiting, waiting for the light to change.

 

Recently, however, I have been trying to use these long waits as opportunities for reflection. 

The corner pictured here provides the waiting bicycle rider with ample food for thought. 

On my left I can feast my eyes on Umberto's hair salon, with its quaint 1940s architecture, complimented by Italian-themed awnings and a coat of mustard paint. 

And just in case I am tempted to forget this important truth, Umberto reminds me: 

"After all, no matter what you wear... you are still judged by your hair."

Thank you, Umberto! This is just what I want to think about as my hair is being squashed into strange shapes by my bike helmet, aided by the elements.

But that's OK. If I tire of Umberto's, I can turn my gaze to the other side of the street and The Twinson apartment building. 

Where, I ask myself, does this name come from? Is Twinson a surname? Apparently not, an admittedly cursory Google search tells me. (I have time for said Google search as I wait for the light to change.) So, perhaps the owner is the proud parent of twin boys. But in that case, shouldn't the name be The Twin Sons? This conundrum occupies my mind until, at last, the light turns green.

I get ready to ride, only to find that I have to wait until the drivers whose green light didn't last long enough shoot through the intersection on the red light. 

I would be annoyed by them, but by this time I am so grateful for the opportunity to continue my ride that I almost feel like writing a thank you note to the city: 

Thank you, City of Edmonton, not only for giving me time to pause in my busy day and reflect on the important things in life, but also for allowing the light to turn green so that I can proceed on my journey. And thank you that I can look forward to several similar lengthy waits opportunities for reflection before I reach my destination.

What about you? Where are your favourite lengthy red lights on your bicycle commute? What deep thoughts occupy your mind as you wait for the light to change?