I'm a lasagna boy!

What is wrong with schmetterling?

In my quest for the delicious warm croissant with ham, gruyere, and butter -- mustn't forget the butter! -- I have discovered Kerry Gold, a magnificent and sweet Irish butter.

The German expression alles ist in Butter ("Everything is in butter"): everything is in order. It is based on the fact that in the Middle ages, fragile articles were transported using butter as we use thermocol today. For this for example tableware was inserted into warm liquid butter. The butter solidified itself as it cooled down and so protected the fragile goods. At the destination, the butter was again liquefied and poured off.
The English word "butterfly" has its origins in the medieval superstition that witches transform into butterflies in order to steal farmers' cream or butter.

Ocean Shore Railroad

I received a copy of the long-awaited Ocean Shore Railroad, part of the "Images of Rail" series published by Arcadia Publishing. The historical notes on the idealism and history of rail along California's Highway 1 bring a tear to my eye: the right-of-way is now occupied by motorways, but the scenery of beaches and mountains remains beautiful. By the bye, construction has begun on a new, $270 million tunnel at Devil's Slide.

After the tunnel is opened, the unused 1.2-mile portion of Highway 1 will be converted into a hiking and biking trail with parking on both ends.

Hobo ho

From A-Word-A-Day: today's word, the historically awesome bindlestiff. Reminds me of days tramping on boxcars, going 'round to the side door for a plate of warm stew, sitting down by the tracks and having a toothless cigarette. Oh yes.

As we vanquish the manxome foe

Striped bicycle lanes come as a mixed blessing -- a double-edgèd vorpal, if you will -- in San Francisco. They provide an ostensible safe haven for cyclists, a path away from the door zone, in a lane clear of motor vehicles and separate from pedestrian traffic (never mind that this morning an absent-minded walker stepped off the kerb directly into me as I pedalled up to Van Ness Avenue!). However, cyclists might become inured to the hazards of cars turning right across their visible right-of-way; cars sometimes resort to using bicycle lanes when frustrated with heavy traffic, as on Guerrero before Army St. Enforcement barely addresses this violation: after all, possession, nine-tenths and all that. Cyclists must use the lanes once they become available, and must reïnforce the public perception of bicycles as having the right to a full lane.
Yesterday the City of San Francisco finally designated a continuous bicycle lane on Market St., after years of wrangling. And traffic turning right onto 10th St. was queued down the length of the new lane.
The lack of a continuous bicycle lane on Market St. has long frustrated me, because of the volume of car and bus traffic makes cycling difficult and, for the inexperienced cyclist or driver, very dangerous. Market St. is a wonderful, flat and well-paved path from the waterfront and parts east to my neighbourhood, but pedalling in perpetual paranoia of a motorist turning abruptly right, or of the 71 Noriega roaring across the bicycle lane where Haight meets Market makes for an unnverving experience. The sections of Market where the bicycle lane vanishes to make way for street parking or a turn lane result in a confusing experience (perhaps not as much for motorists, who have the right of way by dint of weight and presence); they also result in erratic behaviour by cyclists (do I move to the sidewalk? do I nervously stick close to the kerb? what do I do?).

Frosty insults

Last week I discovered that the local Ben & Jerry's ice-cream parlour closed, but my pain pales compared to that of the boy who got punched-out by a Pittsburgh ice-cream vendor. Not only does this boy have the label "pudgy-faced" forever attached, but he's suffered nightmares about push-carts and frosty treats ever since the incident last May.

A Good Humor man was served 18 months' probation Tuesday for losing his cool with a foul-mouthed teenager.

Nazzareno Didiano, 44, stopped dishing out peanut butter bars and Blue Bunnies last May 12 and began pummeling a pudgy-faced Bloomfield teen during a meltdown.

The teen, now 14, told Allegheny County Judge John A. Zottola during a brief trial that Didiano grabbed him by the arm, yanked him from his bike, punched him in the face and slammed him into a wall.

The attack came after the boy berated and cursed Didiano over the cost of his cones.

"I wanted to tell him I didn't appreciate being talked to like that," said Didiano, who denied punching the boy.

Zottola ruled he did not believe Didiano and convicted him of simple assault. In addition to the probation, Didiano must take anger management classes and reimburse the teenager $20 for damage to his bike.

The teen giggled as Didiano recounted the obscenities directed at him.

Didiano, who worked for Paul's Ice Cream Co., served up his own frosty insults.

"I told him he didn't need any ice cream anyway because he's fat," said Didiano.

The teen, about 5-foot-5 and 140 pounds, responded by calling Didiano a "bald (expletive) ripoff." Didiano later attacked when he found the boy sitting on a bike two blocks away.

Assistant District Attorney Dan Regan presented photographs of a red-faced victim with a cut inside of his mouth.

"He instigated the whole thing," said Didiano, who is looking for a new job.

The teen's mother said she's satisfied with the verdict, but complained that her son is now self-conscious about his weight.

"This has been a nightmare," she said.

As for the closer-to-home cold an' creamy: the Castro St. Ben & Jerry's was run as a non-profit by Juma Ventures, but nary a word appears on their web site, nor on Ben & Jerry's. Alas! for their other shop, on Haight St., lacks atmosphere and outdoor seating. Phooey on Haight-Ashbury.

These are the people that you meet Pt XI

What a convivial ride to work I had this morning: while I was pedalling through the city, I stopped at a red light with a handful of other cyclists. The fellow on my left, riding a fire-engine red track frame, looked at me and said, "Great day for riding, isn't it?" I concurred, and said, "They almost always are." Then, thinking about the ride home last night, added: "Sometimes the roads make for rough going." He laughed and agreed. What happened last night? Well, jimg and I met up at Giordano Bros. to sample their wings (dry but yummy) and rode home on roads reminiscent of Pittsburgh: full of potholes and patches.
At Menlo Park, I saw a familiar fixie get on the train, armed with a cup full of Borrone coffee: Mike and I chatted for a bit, and then rode together from San Antonio to Shoreline Amphitheatre. The weather was warm, and comfortably so.

Someday I will run in to Kent Peterson, who does nothing but ride bicycles and obsessively write about it.

Fire on Haight St

Just afer 6.30 this morning, a great conflagration swept through the building on Haight St. that houses the Horseshoe Café ("Under New Management"). Smoke billowed through the sunshine, and a half-dozen hook-and-ladder trucks, ambulances, and prowlers converged on the block. Trolley buses were halted at Divisadero, but an unfortunate few are stuck between Steiner and Pierce. Others with diesel backup engines motored along Waller or Page, creating emergency transit zones.

Get it together, Part II

After missing the Five Boro Bike Tour, you'd think that I'd have my tickets all set for the LA River Ride. But no. Next year.

Max and Jen in the meadow