Ode to a Bike Path

I just returned from a run on our local rail trail -- a bike path created from a converted railroad bed. If you don't have one of these near you, you should really try to do something about that. The amount of pleasure this simple path has brought us is pretty unbelievable.

Our trail covers about 13 miles, 3 towns, and an intesting mixture of forest, meadows, and wetlands. Its inhabitants (in no particular order) include turtles, geese, beavers, snakes, frogs, ducks, chipmunks, orioles, herons, osprey and deer. And these are only the ones we've actually seen! I strongly suspect bear and moose, too, though I can't prove it.

And then there are the human inhabitants: bikers, runners, walkers, rollerbladers, babies in strollers, kids on Big Wheels, cross-country skiers (in winter) and cross-country "skiers" on wheels (in summer).

On a typical day, you will probably see some serious cyclists (heads down, head-to-toe lycra, a quick "on your left!" and then, WHOOSH!). You will also see some "cyclists" -- the helmetless, the wobblers, the fat guy smoking a cigar, the two teenage girls moving so slowly that, when they inevitably collide, they topple over so slowly and harmlessly that their giggling never stops.

You will see nervous parents earnestly teaching their offspring the rules of the road ("Stay right, Trevor! Call out when passing!). You will see others who seem to have no clue (stopping without warning, blocking the path in large, slow-moving groups, talking on cell phones).

You will see many children, both tedious ("Waaaaah! Are we there yet???") and adorable ("Did you see the turtles? There are TURTLES back there!") You will see elderly people. If you're like me, they will be passing, leaving you in the dust. You will see teenage couples engaged in furtive, quiet, obviously dramatic conversations. You will see Moms on Wheels, supporting each other as they discuss problems at home.

Everybody is out there, and that's the beauty of it.

You will also see the seasons come and go. The first day back on the path, usually some time in March, is always eventful because you will be avoiding patches of slushy, icy, still-not-gone-yet snow. On the next visit, the slush will be gone and you'll notice budding trees. On subsequent visits, you'll be amazed at how quickly the natural world explodes. Suddenly it will be the first 70-degree day, with flowers and grasses and leaves and baby geese, and it will seem like no time has passed at all. Even when you start dreading winter, the autumn is so beautiful on this path, you almost won't mind.

The path provides an almost perfect blend of nature and civilization. Even on a sunny weekend day, there will be moments when nobody is in sight, and you can enjoy the surroundings as if you're the only person there to view them. You can enjoy all the benefits of being in nature -- beauty, tranquility -- without the hassles of being IN nature -- hiking boots, 50-pound backpacks, sleeping outside, pooping in a hole. Within 5 minutes of leaving the path, you can be enjoying a milkshake or an iced coffee. Within 20 minutes, you can be enjoying a cold shower.

Whoever came up with this idea is a genius. I look forward to enjoying our path for many years to come.

The Sacrifice for which you win approval but not applause

This line is from Linda Pastan's beautiful poem, "Baseball."

It's just one moment in a larger work, but it resonates loudly. I'm not sure why I have such a visceral reaction to the concept of sacrifice. It has an appeal, of course. The idea of caring for others before yourself, contributing to the collective well-being. These are good things, things we would like to see more of, right?

But then there's the inconvenient aspect of who is asked to sacrifice, and how that sacrifice is received. Motherhood is a good example. I should probably emphasize here that I am not a mother, so no, I don't really have any idea what it's like to be one. I always assumed I would be one.... until I found myself not having the guts to do it.

I think it might have been the self-sacrifice ideal that scared me away.

Obviously, parenthood is one of the most important jobs -- if not the most important -- that anybody can take on. It will always necessitate sacrifice. Keeping fragile young beings alive and intact will never come easily. It will always be essential, because the human race needs to keep itself going.

Perhaps because this biological imperative is so deeply ingrained, it's completely taken for granted. Yet, oddly, it's also glorified.

Motherhood is revered... sort of. Look around. Mothers are held up as the noblest of the noble, the ideals of self-sacrifice. Mothers who fail to sacrifice are scorned as nature's darkest evils, viewed with horror and fascination. You've seen them on your news screens -- the abusers, the neglecters, the abandoners, the shameless hussies who leave their kids sitting in parked cars while they run off to have sleazy trysts with sleazier lovers.

Of course, their behavior deserves our condemnation. But unfit mothers will always incite horror in ways that unfit fathers never will. Only Bad Mothers are paraded through multiple media outlets, as if being brought before angry townspeople armed with torches and pitchforks.

Motherhood has become the convergence of all of society's contradictory and conflicting expectations for women. Although seemingly admired, mothers are also judged to no end, and it often seems that they just can't win. A few years back, much was made of the "Mommy Wars" occurring between stay-at-home moms and working moms. These "wars" played out in the media with depressing results. The Home Moms, defensive about being "just" mothers, pointed fingers at the Work Moms. The Work Moms, defensive about being away from their kids during work hours, fired back. At least a few of the Non Moms, observing from the relative safety of the sidelines, felt guilty for staying out of it all together.

Unfortunately, our culture reveres motherhood without fully respecting it. Women in leadership positions must guard against seeming too "maternal" or "soft," proving that they can be tough and decisive. At the same time, if they seem too tough or ambitious or decisive or "cold" (non-maternal), watch out! It's no mistake that female politicians fall all over themselves to explain how their platforms and policies spring -- first and foremost -- from their roles as mothers.

And why not? Our culture loves mothers, as long as their mothering never becomes inconvenient in any way. That's why we love self-sacrificing mothers: because we're not willing to provide them with any actual assistance, such as affordable child care, career security, or understanding when a sick child causes a missed workday. Sure, there are signs of progress, and fathers are partners in parenting more than ever. But it is still women who talk about the tug-of-war between family and career, and it is still women who are most often asked to sacrifice.

For most women, even today, having a child necessitates some kind of career disruption. This might be time away from the job and subsequent loss of status. It might be a switch to less supervisory responsibility, in exchange for more flexible hours. Or it might simply mean a longstanding struggle to do too much work at home and on the job, with too little time and energy. The only women who usually have the freedom to be stay at home moms for any length of time -- an unbelievably worthy job, by all measures -- are those women who are able or willing to become financially dependent upon somebody else. All of these options are sacrifices.

What do these self-sacrificers get? Flowers on Mother's Day. TV commercials extolling their virtues. Magazine articles, geared toward women, laughingly describing the sacrifices of motherhood (no appreciation! constant chaos! you'll have to go to work on 2 hours sleep and your boss won't care! and you'll never have sex again! ha ha ha!)

Even the makeover shows get into the act. They love to glorify the woman who "takes care of everybody else," clicking their tongues at how sad it is that Mom has no time to devote to herself. Teams of stylists and fashion consultants and makeup artists swoop onto the scene to pamper Mom for one day. Once she is transformed, they plunk her back down into the bosom of her family and drop the baby back in her arms. (The baby usually cries; the mother often does, too).

It's nice that these shows affirm that Mom is still a woman who deserves to look and feel good. But the message is always clear. She has earned the right to look and feel good, because she has sacrificed. And she's expected to continue sacrificing.

For which she will win approval, but not applause.

Irony Alert: Psychic Picnic

An outdoor fair in my hometown has already been rescheduled once, due to rainy weather. It rained for the "Rain Date," as well, so the fair was still held but most events had to be moved indoors.

The same thing has occurred for the past 2 years. Whatever date(s) they pick just seem to be the date(s) when it rains.

One of the entertainment attractions at this fair?

Psychics. Predicting the future. For a fee.

They don't do weather, apparently.