How to Buy a Used Bike (Chicago version)

So far this spring, I've been asked at least 4-5 times for advice on how to buy a first bike. And little wonder, with gas prices skyrocketing the way they are! When I first decided to delve into cycling, I remember feeling overwhelmed by the array of choices I had to make. Scanning Craig's list, you are presented with titles like "Bianchi Campione, 53 cm w/ Shimano WH-R353 wheels." What on earth does that mean? Anyway, you can reap the benefits of the hours of research I had to put in. Without further ado, I present my tips for how to buy a used bike (in Chicago).

1) Go to Craig's list. Alternatively, I have heard success stories from people who went to the Working Bikes co-op. If you do this, you should show up about half an hour before they open, and be ready to rush in and grab a bike.

2) Bike type: something with straight (not dropped) handlebars will be a lot more comfortable and easier to control. You can go with an older bike with fewer gears (Chicago is flat, you don't need 21 speeds, but it's nice to have options), or an older mountain bike (the better for absorbing road vibrations/riding over potholes). In the last few years, they've also come out with hybrid bikes, which try to combine features of mountain/road bikes.

3) Brand: Avoid department store bikes (Huffy, Magna). They will be extremely heavy and have shoddier parts. I am a fan of (relatively) cheap Schwinns and Giants. Expensive brands which scream "steal me" include: Specialized, Trek, Cannondale, Diamondback

4) Other features: if you plan to commute regularly, you should look for fenders (essential in rain) and may want to consider a rear rack. You can also get clip-on fenders cheaply.

5) When you test ride the bike: Do the gears shift (mostly) smoothly? With older bikes, there will probably be some lag time/crunching noises. Hopefully you can lube the chain to ease that. Are the brakes responsive/pads not worn out? Press down on the tires, are they rock hard? Lift up the bike and spin one wheel at a time, does it spin freely/not rub up against brake pads? Is the wheel true/not wobbling side to side?

6) Buy a helmet and a decent U-lock (cable locks are fairly useless). There are tons of bike shops, but the cheapest place for parts that I've seen is Irv's in Pilsen. Plus, Henry is super nice. Check the Chicago bike shop directory and click "city only" at the top to narrow by location boundaries. If you ever bike at night, bike with front & rear lights.

My first time biking in traffic was one of the scariest experiences of my life. Don't let that deter you! Chicago is marked with lots of bike lanes, and the drivers are courteous for the most part. Also, biking along the lake shore path is one of the best feelings EVER.

See you at Critical Mass.

Cubs Game

In a continuing effort to expand my horizons, I went to my first baseball game yesterday afternoon. We grilled burgers, (literally) pre-gamed with beers, and sang "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" on the way to Wrigley Field. I was practically ready to swear off sushi for liberty fries. Almost.

Baseball is one of the few games whose rules I mostly understand, and I freely admit that it can be boring. The game consists of long stretches of time when the ball isn't moving, and the score rarely makes it above single digits. No matter, this is why beer is readily available. We sat in the bleachers behind the outfield, and had an excellent view of the batter, all the better for catching those home-run balls. To further entertain ourselves, heckling the opposing team is a prominent past-time. Much like at Cornell hockey games, it is advisable to insult players on the other team by directly using their name. Ergo, Arizona Diamondbacks right-fielder Jeff Salazar bore the brunt of our section's aggression. Some highlights:

"Salazar wears a child's jock strap!"
"Salazar is a trannie!"
"Salazar makes league minimum!"
and finally, the classic:
"Salazar, Salazar, Salazarrr! YOU SUCK!"

Gentleman sitting behind us: Salazar, you cock sucker! [ etc. ]
Britton: Geez, but there are two small children right next to him!
Me: Haha, what if those are his children?
Aforementioned gentleman: Hey Billy, what did Daddy just say?

Not to be outdone, we decided to offer a few taunts of our own:

Erik: Salazar, I find your behavior morally reprehensible, but I will fight to the end for your right to act as you choose!

The audience that the bleachers attracts is colorful indeed. The woman in front of us told us she'd been smoking pot before the game, and had been drinking heavily since then. Suffice it to say, she was spilling beer all over the place, and by the end, Ricky was clandestinely holding her cup up for her. Meanwhile, the woman's boyfriend spilled much of his beer into the hair of another woman, which was quite all right because she had spilled a good amount of beer on his shorts earlier in the game.

Luckily, the Cubs recovered from a 2-1 deficit, with a monster 6 runs in the 7th inning, to win the game 7-2. The stadium roared with approval and launched into a rendition of "Go Cubs Go," the team's somewhat hokey but undeniably catchy theme song.

Original Prankster

Working at the fed is Very Serious Business, but we also know how to mix some levity into the day. Specifically, we've elevated the office prank almost to a new art form. At various points, I have come back to my cubicle to find the batteries in my keyboard have been switched, or that my page-a-day calendar has had the next week's pages stapled together, or that my granola bars have been taped to my desk, my pear taped to my desk, my mouse taped to my desk...Once, I returned to see that my chair had been lowered as far as possible, and my desk had been raised about 5 inches. As I was puzzling over this, Rich, my economist, walked by, and I explained that my desk seemed to be different. He commented wryly, "Well, you do shrink as you get older."

Phil was out yesterday, so we took it upon ourselves to help him "redecorate." Although he espouses distaste for many things (Xbox, the Berghoff, Hawaii), he has a particularly virulent hatred for Hillary Clinton. Accordingly, we posted print-outs of Hillary photos all over his cube. I also printed out 15 small "Vote for Hillary" buttons that we hid inside his coffee, under his mousepad, in his phone cradle, in the middle of books...I predict he'll be finding nasty surprises for the next few weeks.

Much to my shock, Phil sent out the following email the next morning:

Thanks guys…. I found this in my inbox

-----Original Message-----

From: Sherry Smith [mailto:Sherry.Smith@chi.frb.org]
Sent: Tuesday, May 6, 2008 4:03 PM
To: Philip S Doctor
Subject: Re: Political stances and Federal Reserve Bank standards

Phil—

It has come to our attention that you have recently been displaying political paraphernalia within your cubical at the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago. As you were informed during your orientation, the Fed is a politically neutral entity, and maintaining that neutrality is one of our top priorities, especially as we near the national elections. In accordance with internal policies, I am requiring you to remove all signage from the building and have asked that your supervisor verify this for me. Additionally I will be required to have a meeting to discuss your professional conduct. Please get in touch with me to set up a meeting time, hopefully this week.

Regards,
Sherry Smith

AACK! I panicked; should we fess up to our crimes so that Phil doesn't get in trouble? Were we going to get written up? Was I about to get fired from my first (and last) job ever, over a silly prank?! Then Matt pointed out, wouldn't it be funny if Phil was trying to counter-prank us instead? I quickly searched the Fed Directory, and lo and behold, there was no one named "Sherry Smith." Upon closer scrutiny, we noticed that the email was "sent" at 4:03 pm, and we left his cubicle at around 3:45 pm the day before. Whew!

Chicago for Foodies

Forget the Sears Tower and Millenium Park, here's what I did with Megan on her first visit to Chicago:

Plates:

• Deep-dish pizza from Art of Pizza
• Mujver (zucchini pancake) and lahmacun (thin Turkish pizza) from Nazarlik
• Pineapple-rhubarb french toast, berry and banana cheesecake pancakes, and lemon ricotta pancakes from Bongo Room
• Granola from Milk & Honey Cafe
• Carne asada tacos and horchata (cinnamon rice drink) from La Pasadita
• Frozen kefir (uber trendy yogurt-like product) from Starfruit
• Family style Mediterranean at Cedar's
• Swedish pancakes with lingonberries from Ann Sather's (hotelie-run!)
• Chicago hot dog and duck-fat fries from Hot Doug's (I can('t) believe we waited 45 minutes for this...the line was out the door and wrapped around the building.)
• Banh mi (Vietnamese sub) and coconut sticky rice & black-eyed peas from Ba Le
• Ginger-raisin & banana-chocolate pannenkoeken (dutch pancakes) from Pannenkoeken Cafe
• Ghormeh sabzi (beef stew with green herbs) and fesenjan with eggplant (walnut-pomegranate sauce) from Masouleh
• Borek (pastry filled with meat) from Big Buns and Pita
• Pork bun, sesame ball, and red bean paste mooncake from Chiu Quon Bakery
  

The ones that got away (the restaurant industry, it's volatile!):

• Curry puff from Thai Grocery (closed in mid-April)
• Jibarito (plantain sandwich) from Cafe Salamera (closed in February)
• Sweet potato doughnuts with cinnamon sabayon, poached pear, and pumpkin pepitas from Powerhouse (fell victim to limited stomach capacity)

People (characters we met around town):

• Quintessential Wrigleyville: outside Wrigley Field, we ran into a drunk guy who was trying to walk with a sweatshirt around his ankles and then planted his nose on the ground. Twice.
  
• Classic Wicker Park: hipster guy with an iPod jogging while wearing a skin-tight Strand tee
  
• At Mojo Spa, the guy behind the counter thought Megan and I were international relations majors (an asian kid and a white kid hanging out!). Next, he guessed that we were engineers. I'm not sure what that says about my appearance.
  
• While waiting in line for Jersey Boys tickets at 8:45 am, we made friends with the couple behind us, Cornel and Trudy (?). The latter was giving us lots of advice: "I recommend staying away from San Francisco...there are too many gay men there."
  
• Random guy in head-to-toe black leather who shared a cab with us: "Yeah, I just got my own place, but it won't be just me for long...my brother's turning 18 and getting out of foster care."
  

Places:


Sometimes I forget how spread out Chicago really is, but this weekend, we definitely explored large swaths of the city from top to bottom. Some of the traveling was due to necessity; we drove out to the suburbs and hiked ~6 miles of the Des Plaines River trail. On other occasions, we traveled stupidly far distances...all for the sake of getting food. I have no regrets.

Eating aside, we did manage to see Jersey Boys ($25 front-row rush tickets), wander through the Art Institute during Looptopia, go on a cruise on Lake Michigan for Ana's birthday, and find a few letterboxes. Plus, I discovered the Seminary Co-op bookstore in Hyde Park, which might be my new favorite bookstore. It's located in the basement of the Chicago Theological Seminary, and every square inch of its labyrinthine shelves, from the floor to the ceiling, is jam-packed with esoteric titles. Though my inner bibliophile was spasming, I restrained myself and simply picked up a copy of "A Very Short Introduction to Quantum Theory." Admittedly, this is completely useless for me, but maybe I'll be able to pick up enough key phrases that I can front knowing something about quantum mechanics.

Dungeons & Dragons, session 1

First, an admission. For all its connotations of pale, nerdy guys huddled in a basement, arguing over how to slay a dragon and severely disconnected from reality, Dungeons & Dragons is actually a beautiful metaphorical representation of life.

Sure, it's formulated in a fantastic world, and I would never need to battle a goblin in real life, but the underlying premises are the same. You have to work in groups with teammates who each have personal talents and flaws. You need to accomplish particular tasks, and your success (or failure) depends on how skilled you are, with some allowances for random luck or misfortune. Solutions are not always clear-cut, and the consequences of your actions are not immediately apparent. In fact, when you think about it, DnD, like economics, transforms everyday interactions into quantifiable mathematical equations. However, there is still plenty of room for open-ended creativity.Hence, the inherent appeal for us Feddies.

Phil started us off on an adventure titled "The Sunless Citadel," which is supposed to help ease newbies into the game. There were 5 of us who were new role-players, plus Amber, who knew what she was doing, and saved our asses on several occasions by dutifully checking for snares and traps. Right off the bat, I could see how people get caught up in ludicrous, hour-long debates over how to cross a bridge. We were told that there was an ancient citadel which was ripe for exploration, but Phineas (Erik) wanted to try helping the dying wife of a villager instead, which I deemed to be a waste of time. (We're all level 1 characters, so Phineas' healing powers consist of healing "minor wounds.") Meanwhile, Yocxjufyabiu (Nate wrote a random name generator) the sorcerer was bent on casting spells left and right, and decided to "animate a rope" to be very stiff and sturdy while we climbed down into a ravine. Combat rounds were taking an hour to resolve, in part because no one knew how to add up points and modifiers, so Phil had to help us do all the math. I did roll a 20 during combat (the highest point value), though I didn't get the critical hit. After killing a few dire rats and undead goblins, we began arguing over where to set up camp for the night, and Nygavok the sensitive fighter (Chris) tried to seduce me while we were supposed to be keeping watch.

After playing for a few hours, we had to catch the train back to the city. I tend to view everything through a rational economist perspective, but I started to catch myself thinking in DnD terms. We weren't sure which direction the train was coming from, so we decided to ask a passing pedestrian. Mentally, I thought, "A stranger approaches. Does he appear trustworthy? Should we send the member of our party with the highest charisma, or the person most able to intimidate him into giving us directions?"

I also have to confess that certain web comics have become a lot funnier.

Random Acts of God

In a freak accident (very much in the vein of Wilder's Bridge of San Luis Rey), a semi-trailer truck barreled off the Dan Ryan Expressway at 5:20 pm this afternoon and into the Cermak/Chinatown red line train stop. The truck barreled through an intersection and straight into the escalator at the station. Two people died and at least 21 were injured. The driver himself was fine and left the hospital after being treated.

This is the stop that I use most frequently, and though I generally prefer to avoid trains and bike instead, today I opted to leave the bike at home because I needed to bring an apple cake into work. (It was Haley's last day of work at the Fed.)

After work, we headed to Phil's for a session of Dungeons & Dragons. Earlier, I'd decided I didn't feel like driving to Phil's because last weekend, I was the designated driver, and I wanted to have the option to drink this time. If I hadn't insisted on being an alcoholic, we would have been taking the red line to my place to pick up my car, and could easily have been on the train at that time. As I walked past the wreckage tonight, it was a sobering thought.

Seder

It's Passover, and though I'd always meant to check out Cornell's "Super Seder," I never quite got around to it. No matter, this year, we badgered our Jew-in-residence (Nate) to hold a Seder. He hadn't been really planning to celebrate, but armed with knowledge from Wikipedia, we successfully convinced him that he should host a Seder with a bunch of Gentiles. Besides, my undying love for Yonah Schimmel's and the rest of the Lower East Side should be plentiful proof of my faith in Jewish culture.

About half of us were non-Jewish, and this was the first Seder any of us had attended. Basically, a Seder dinner recounts the exodus of the Jews from Egypt, from their enslavement while building the pyramids, to the ten plagues that God rained down upon the Egyptian slavers, to the hasty departure of the Jews as they commenced wandering the desert. Grasping a Xeroxed-copy of the Haggadah, we each took turns reading as the Leader, and all joined in on Group parts. It was a great opportunity for me to practice my dramatic reading skills.

Like the Bible, the language in the text is beautiful. Actually, I've always been a fan of ancient religious texts, mostly for their obfuscating word choice and archaic grammar. In all seriousness though, biblical passages do have an eloquence to them that is rare in modern writing, and the words can sing off the page. In fact, sometimes they literally do.

This is the bread of affliction that our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. Whoever is hungry, let him come and eat; whoever is in need, let him come and conduct the Seder of Passover. This year we are here; next year in the land of Israel. This year we are slaves; next year we will be free people.

Ma nishtana? Why is this night different from all other nights? More than the retelling of the Exodus, Passover is a reminder of universal suffering, a plea not to forget the past injustices of history, and a message to strive for the betterment of humanity. Holiday foods usually bring to mind goodies like pumpkin pie or egg nog, but on this night, we ate in remembrance of pain and suffering. Unleavened matzah, because the Jews left so quickly their bread had no time to rise, maror (horseradish), or bitter herbs to symbolize the bitterness of slavery, charoset (a diced apple, nut and wine mixture) to represent the mortar used by Jews to construct Egyptian buildings, karpas (parsley) dipped in salt water to mirror tears.

This is not to say that the food was all terrible. The actual dinner was blessedly free of nasal-passage clearing horseradish, with matzah ball soup, couscous, eggplant parmesan and roasted chicken. Plus, the Haggadah does include instructions to drink at least four glasses of wine, and your bill for the night could be even higher if you drank more during dinner. By the fourth "official" glass of wine, we were racing to see who could chug theirs the fastest. I'm sure the prophet Elijah approved when he came to visit.

At the conclusion of Seder, we sang a few Passover songs, most notably, Chad Gadya, or "One Kid Goat." The song is structurally similar to "There was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly," in that each stanza builds upon the previous one. I can only remember the last line, which was "which my father bought for two zuzim." More difficult was the constraint that each stanza must be sung in one breath. By the time verse 10 rolled around, let's just say I wished I'd been a trumpet player.

L'shana ha'ba'ah b'yerushalayim! Next year in Jerusalem!