Memoirous

I’ve been thinking about signs—not the blaring neon ones, but the quiet foreshadowing ones that predict (possibly) the future. Some people attribute them to God, some the universe or Karma. I wasn’t quite sure. Even before my move across the country at the end of December, I’ve been in a state of transition. A nebulous place—much like the rough patch beside the highway that technically is part of the roadway but also a netherland often full of McDonald’s wrappers, one shoe, assorted garbage, and other stuff chucked out of car windows. Yeah, a little mixed up, not quite sure of who I am, what I wanted, or where I was going. Then I saw a sign. To be honest, my friend saw it first. Sandy, as she was backing out of her parking spot after we’d packed up the van with my stuff to go to the airport, said “Look! A sign.” I tried to see, but there was a brick wall in front of us. “What!?” She jabbed her finger toward a fence about 3 feet long that separated the row of parking from a po...

I know this woman who went and upended her life. Completely. She didn’t have to, but she moved halfway across the country with only a suitcase and bicycle. She left the only city she’d ever lived in as an adult and close friends she’d known for years. Most of her questions had been answered: there was a routine, a rhythm. Even some wiggle room financially. She knew where to vote, what stores gave the best price; she had a library card and had just renewed her driver’s license. This woman ran headlong during a pandemic, social unrest, into a divided America. She toed the edge and leaped. At age 62. Without a map, without a credit rating, without a digital footprint. Alone. While her friends were getting cataract surgery, hip and knee replacements, installing grab bars in the shower, clipping coupons, signing up for Medicare, retiring, settling, winding down—she had a yard sale, gave away her belongings, finally just boxed the rest up and put it out for trash. And, for what? An u...

 Sort of a wonky piece that I adapted for New Critique from an artist residency on Great Spruce Head Island in 2017. Link here: https://newcritique.co.uk/2020/11/06/essay-in-early-august-among-the-spruce-reading-schuylers-memoirs-on-great-spruce-head-island-jane-hertenstein/ [Essay] ‘In early August among the spruce’: Reading Schuyler’s Memoirs on Great Spruce Head Island — Jane Hertenstein A Personal Introduction Following the US presidential election in 2016, I was jolted off-kilter, steamrolled. There was a Before, then an After. That winter, I sat and stared out my dreary window upon a busy Chicago street corner, where a sign in huge lettering read: ‘Christ Died for Our Sins’. I recalled James Schuyler’s poem, ‘February’: ‘A chimney, breathing a little smoke. / The sun, I can’t see / making a bit of pink / I can’t quite see in the blue’ . [1]

 One of the reasons parents cited for driving their kids to school was that roads are too dangerous for them to ride. Yet in many cities bike infrastructure has vastly improved with even more rigorous plans for protected bike plans coming on-line. Urban planners are prioritizing bike lanes, whether shared lanes, striped bike lanes, buffered or protected bike lanes (ones totally separate from car traffic). In Chicago the non-profit Active Transportation Alliance advocates on behalf of cyclists for street safety and more visible, efficient greenways. ATA fought to improve the lakefront bike trail, separating it into two paths where possible, one for pedestrians and one for cyclists. There is now a flyover on the most congested section of the path around the Navy Pier area. More and more bike trails and lanes are being constructed. On Milwaukee Avenue for example the lanes are painted green so that drivers can readily see and be alert to cyclists before turning right. There are even...

After World War II most bicycles were for children. Bicycle production rose from 249,500 in 1932 to over a million by 1937. In September 1945, one month after Japan’s surrender, the Wall Street Journal reported that 97 percent of American children told pollsters they wanted their own bicycle. Today, ridership is on the decline. One reason is that children are not riding. In 2000 there were 17.6 million active riders between the ages of seven and seventeen, by 2013 that number was only 10 million. In 2000, 11.6 million children’s bicycles were sold in the United States, in 2013, the number was 4.9 million. From 2018 to 2019, children’s bicycle sales decreased 7 percent in dollars and 7.5 percent in bikes sold.page 162 https://www.washingtonpost.com/sports/2019/06/04/fewer-kids-are-riding-buying-bicycles-industry-is-worried/ In 1969, 48 percent of children 5 to 14 years of age usually walked or bicycled to school (The National Center for Safe Routes to School, 2011). In 2009, 13 per...