It's About The Ride

I bought a motorcycle about a year ago. It's a 2006 Suzuki Boulevard M50, and it's awesome.

I had to take in for inspection a few days ago, but there's no cycle mechanics actually in the city of Pittsburgh (at least none that I know of... if you've got a hook up, let me know!), so I took the scenic route out to Tarentum, which turned out to be a pretty awesome ride. It took me through Verona, what seemed like an awesome little town whose (bumpy as hell) red-brick main street lines the Allegheny with a boardwalk on one side and a line of shops, bars, and diners on the other. I was looking forward to a similar return trip, but as fate would have it, I would need to get back to a computer quickly since it was just coming to light that I had broken Sulia's mobile site the day before.

I'm not all that comfortable doing 70mph on the bike yet, and the ride back Route 28 was my second opportunity to face my discomfort. The first opportunity happened mid-spring when I pulled it out of winter storage. And I'll admit it was bit of a wide-eyed, white-knuckled, short-breath experience. This second one, however, afforded me a little more mental acuity.

The air resistance is the first thing I notice. It starts to pound harder on my chest. Every turn of my head to check a blind spot or mirror brings the force on from a different direction, for which I have to compensate. The wind finds its way through every seam between pieces of clothing. The road goes by too fast for me to identify and avoid smaller obstacles. I feel and am more attentive of every bump and imperfection in the road, wondering about and observing the bike's reaction to each. And I recognize the trust I'm putting into whoever last worked on this surface, into whoever built the machine between my legs, and into whoever made the rules that essentially keep my path clear.

It's somewhere half way back to Pittsburgh that, watching these cars go by at 75 or 80mph, I realize how much of this is taken for granted driving one. The glass separates us from the environment, as if we're just watching it all on yet another screen. The comfort of plush seating, air conditioning, noise reduction, and more capable shock absorbers veils us from the complex set of forces at play and a certain harshness of reality. We relinquish touch with it all without ever having fully come to experience and understand reality in the first place. People like me put these systems in place to make our lives easier and more convenient. But, as I see drivers pass devoting a minimal amount of attention to their primary task and with no knowledge of the experience I'm having, I see how we (system developers) are disconnecting them, offering a more manageable experience that asks for little effort, requires few skills, and provides a context that whispers, "you're fine the way you are. Notice the command you've got on it all."

We've recently watched these systems crumble a bit. And many seem to be waiting for the shoe to drop, expecting each election, court decision, or entitlement program (e.g. a system enhancement) to be the final nail in the coffin, fueled by some latent paranoia of a sinister plot growing under and behind these complex structures that will cause the first in a long series of dominos to drop.

I wonder how we're able to consider these structures objectively. Never having an experience without them and with little understanding of the world without them, are we able to rationally consider them. It seems hypocritical to rail on about one while completely consumed by, dependent upon, and oblivious to another.

The engine whines as the bike turns uphill, and my hand rolls on the throttle a little more.... I have no cruise control. A certain superiority creeps into my mind as it wraps its understanding around my situation and I begin to appreciate the complexity with which I'm dealing. It's followed quickly by the knowledge that my ego is trying to claim this newfound territory for its own, and I smile at myself. I don't have a solution here....I sink into the joy of the ride and something tells me I'm going to make it back to Pittsburgh.

To New York and Back

Since I haven't posted in a long time, let me fill you in on recent developments. I spent the last few months in New York at a summer internship with a small tech startup, Sulia. It was my first extended departure from Pittsburgh since I started my Ph.D. at Pitt, and I'll admit that was part of the appeal of the opportunity.

But I'm back in the 'burgh now.

The city impressed me in a lot of ways. I could've found a group of people interested in just about anything there... which, for my limited time there, amounted to coding, yoga, flirting, and a little drinking. Having such a huge market in a small area also lends itself to a bunch of businesses, websites, and apps, a result of shear ease in viral and word-of-mouth marketing and the ability to address specific needs of the NYC lifestyle yet still impact a large number of people. Quite a few New Yorkers are there offering their talent and creativity hoping others will find value in it. I didn't have time to explore them all, but I was impressed by the range of endeavors being pursued, even in the hopeless romance of street performance.

And so here's the downside of NYC. It's really hot and humid in the summer, and all the concrete doesn't help. I mean, it's like Chimera's breath hot, which surprised me given the latitude. Also, the city has only enough infrastructure to support its 9 million people or whatever as long as their interests remain diversified. As soon as everyone wants to be at the same place, there's not enough space, tickets, or whatever to accommodate them at all. And, of course, this happens in Pittsburgh too, except the result in the burgh is bit of discomfort and a poor vantage point whereas in NYC the result is severe discomfort, anger, no vantage point at all, and what is probably a serious threat to public safety.

Also, while I would have to give credit to the city for amount of support it gives to its infrastructure—e.g. their public transit is significantly expanding where Pittsburgh's is in constant decline—there are so many laws governing it. There were posted signs prohibiting the disposal of your garbage in a public garbage can... which left me to imagine people dropping their garbage bags next to public cans in order to avoid some removal fee at their apartment. I once overheard a guy at the gym extol Berlin as "New York without the dirt," and it brought me back to that sign and the general lack of perceived ownership for public space and infrastructure, not exclusive to NYC yet so acute expressed there. If it's the world's greatest city at the moment, its people don't want the responsibility that comes with that. Contrast that with Paris, a city that's collectively held a common vision for it's beauty, design, architecture, and lifestyle for centuries.

Lastly, for all the people pursuing some creative or entrepreneurial endeavor, there are 100,000 of them who are wastes of space... in your way when you're trying to get... anywhere, annoyed by your presence too, seemingly cynical, and trying to remain unaffected by it all. Moreover, despite the diversity, I still found a health pursuit of conformity and pop culture, which wasn't surprising and isn't much to complain about. But perhaps my secret hope in moving there for a few months was that, if anywhere, I'd find a girl or two there at least aware of or transcendent of the social forces acting upon her. ...Maybe I just needed more time in that, though.

...

So, as I reread this, I had hoped I would give equal verbiage to the positive and negative, but I seemed to have failed in that... the consequence of training my mind to spot and solve problems for going on eight years now.

In all, I still had a blast there, and I came away with a bittersweet mix of emotions. Three months was nowhere near enough time to really explore the city and its depth (Pittsburgh only takes like six months to get to know). I'd say the hype is a little exaggerated, but there's something about the town that, despite the dirt, the anger, ... and the rent, pulled in a little piece of me. Whether I'll go back at some point.... I don't know. But for now, I can say I'm glad to come back to Pittsburgh.