Most mornings I trackstand on the dirty pavement corner of Liesbeek parkway and Durban Road waiting for the lights to favour pedestrians. This morning 3 domestic workers, 3 green uniformed schoolkids and a bergie watched the endless stream of climate controlled lounge suites race through the intersection to back up at the onramp to the M3. Some of the drivers are texting, some are eating, one is doing her makeup.
A rider in lycra and a backpack rides a fast tempo at the same speed as the cars, hugging the left hand side. I seem him often and recognise him from the local races. Sometimes we nod.
Normality.
When the light changes and the groen mannetjie comes on you can't cross because the last 3 cars are squeezing through - my inner chop wants to moer the bonnet of the last one as he last minute brakes for the schoolkids who have darted in front of him.
Normal
Yesterday, a taxi took the little loop past the fat cactus and the black sash offices and the Gear Change to join Durban road on the wrong side of the road, force his way across the turning lane to go straight on to the taxi rank in Obz - no-one even bothers to hoot.
Normal normal normal.
I make it across the road,
I don't ride on Durban road, choosing the pavement on my orange gravel bike, and crawl along behind a group of construction guys who are shouting and laughing about something and don't know I'm behind them. One of them realises and pushes his mate aside - sorry gentlemen I say as I take the gap.
My obsessive mind retreats from this scene and re-imagines it. I replace the absurd stream of cars with a stream of dutch commuter style ebikes. I turn one side of Liesbeek parkway into a grass and tree piazza with coffee shops, and cafes.
I replace the taxis with tram cars on rails.
At the Rondebosch common I stand at the pedestrian crossing at the traffic circle - 1, 2, 3, the fourth one stops but is almost rear ended by the one behind.
More f@32kin normality.
On the cycle path alongside the common while I worry about the mummy's in SUV's dropping the kids off and the likelihood that someone is going to pull over into the cycle lane to try squeeze past the car at the front turning right.
Another scene I reimagine in a similar way.
I think about an Ursula K LeGuinn quote about late stage monopoly capitalism. She says that once upon a time the divine right of kings was an unshakable reality that governed how power was distributed and now we scoff at the idea. It's comforting because it means that this unshakeable normality in which 3 okes riding abreast can be interpreted as "our worst enemy" and as "chops" can change and almost definitely will. It has to as surely as the divine right of kings had to change.
Trouble is, lots of people had to die for that to happen.
To me, the bicycle is a symbol of this change - a person, on a machine, connected to the earth, moving fast under his/her own power. It's part of the reason I love cycling so much, it feels subversive, it allies me with the domestics and the schoolkids, it connects me with what's happening around me. I can play my role in the community, I admonish the kids who drop their coke bottles and chip packets on the road. I tell them that the man who cleans the street could be their grandfather, just like a cranky old village curmudgeon should do.
The car on the other hand seems to me an emblem of the disconnection of our era - the highly individualistic culture of late stage capitalism, insulated from the ground, isolated from the environment, controlling the elements rather than being with them, and belching out a trail of noxious fumes that chokes the air above every city on the planet.
This makes riding a bicycle a subversive activity - no-one in a car sees the kids mooching to school, notices the comings and goings of the street, recognises the faces and the routines of the shops and the workers and the dog walkers along the route. The rider is forced to deal with the environment, respond to it physically, with effort and strength. The car bends the world to the driver's will, places him in the driver's seat, a dominant force, an emblem of status, a symbol of quixotic supremacy over the world.
Normality. pah!