Return (and Returning?) of the Guni

Back in October, my geared unicycle began having problems. On several occasions it slipped out of geared (once causing a scary fall), but worse still was the related fact that one of the crank arms was falling off. I emailed Florian and spoke with him a few times in Switzerland, and I tried repairing things on my own and with the help of fellow NYUC club member (and fellow guni owner) Dave Bagley, but finally we realized that there was no way to fix this unicycle's hub.

Florian had been working on an improved hub at this time, so rather than trying to fix my hub or sending me a replacement, he generously decided to give updated hubs to all owners of 1st generation hubs. These newer models have 12 internal pins rather than 6, and this means that the hub can switch into gear more smoothly. It took nearly six months for the updated hub to arrive, and it finally showed up last week [Florian had broken his arm and had gone to Laos on a unicycle tour, adding to the delay.]

Once the hub arrived, I tried to rebuild the wheel (putting all of the spokes back on the rim), but my two attempts failed. Rebuilding a wheel is a Zen art, and I'm not even a Zen grasshopper when it comes to truing a wheel, let alone building one from scratch. So I paid a bike mechanic $35 for the job, and, as of Wednesday afternoon, was on my way. Sure enough, the shifting was nearly seamless. I was able to make transitions from low to high gear and back with little difficulty. I rode it to Brooklyn and back to my mom's apartment on the Upper West Side (a trip of about 8.5 miles each way) twice, logging a total of about 36 miles on it until just an hour ago when I realized that one of the crank arms is loose.

The loose arm is on the downshift-button side. That is the same thing that happened to me last time, if I'm not mistaken. Luckily for me, a fellow member of the NYUC also has a guni from Florian, so he may be able to fix this when I see him tomorrow. If not, I'll have to disassemble the wheel again (that's a lot easier than building it!) and send the newer hub back to Switzerland.

Emmett Pushes the Stroller

Emmett has been learning to unicycle for a long time, but he's only recently gotten to the point where he can stay up without much support. In fact, when he first started, he was unable to ride even when holding a bar on either side. That's pretty common for a young rider who doesn't yet have the stomach muscles or coordination required for unicycling. More recently he has been able to ride while holding only a single rail, and it is clear that he is on the verge of getting it.

I realized that one of the best ways to learn is to push something in front of you. Strollers work great, as do shopping carts. On the day this photo was taken, Emmett and Maeve had accompanied me to the uni club. Earlier in the day, Emmett has been complaining that he didn't want to keep trying to unicycle -- it was too hard. After the club, he couldn't wait to try again and was really proud that he had become a unicylist. Go Emmett!!!

My License Plate and My Jewish Identity

So I've never told you the story about my license plate? My 2001 Red Aztek with the UNICYCLE plate? Well, then, read on.

We bought our car in 2001 thinking that it would come in handy when we moved to Brooklyn (and it did). Initially it had a normal license plate (actually, that's protocol -- you can't just start with the vanity plate). Then Shirra and I settled on a cute vanity plate: QTP2T.

Too cute.

It wasn't long* before I realized that this plate didn't suit a car being driven primarily by a dude, so I went back to the website where you can order a new license plate. UNICYCLE wasn't available, but UN1CYCLE, UNACYCLE, and UNICYCL3 were. I decided on the version with the 1 in it. There was something wrong with my Internet order, however, so I phoned the department and found out that you need to have had your newly-issued license plate for at least *three weeks. The woman I spoke to told me that UN1CYCLE was still available. As a lark, I mentioned that I had actually been after UNICYCLE instead but that it hadn't been available. "It is now," she said.

Those three words changed my life.

Actually, that's just a joke. I doubt those were her very words, and certainly my life is no different now, but I know that whatever she said, it made me feel extremely lucky.

But I had forgotten to consider one thing: Why was the UNICYCLE plate suddenly available? When I posted about my great fortune to the unicyclist.com forum, one of the respondents (John Foss) wrote back to tell me that the previous owner of the plate (an older gentleman named Ken Britton from Canandaigua, NY) must have either decided to relinquish the plate ... or died. Gulp. Isn't that so typical for a Jew? I can enjoy my happy news only if I remember the pain and suffering in the world.

But then, there is the joke about Morty who visits Saul in the hospital. Saul tells of a terrible illness and how it has puzzled his doctors while ravaging his health, but all Morty keeps telling him is, "It coulda bin voyss." Exasperated by his friend's uncaring refrain, Saul finally asks how things could be worse. Morty explains, "It coulda bin me." So I hope that Ken has simply decided he doesn't need UNICYCLE, but if he did have to die so that I could get it, I'm sorry to hear it -- but I'm still glad that I got the plate.

Schmutz Wednesday

Growing up, and specifically: growing up Jewish, I never learned what Ash Wednesday was. From 2nd thru 8th grade, however, I went to a French school (Fleming) founded by a Catholic woman and populated by a relatively high percentage of Catholic students and teachers. Once a year, I'd see some of my fellow students sporting black streaks on their foreheads, but as soon as the day was over, I'd forget all over again so that come the following year, it was me reaching to some friend's noggin to wipe away the blot that I assumed had more to do with a marker than with religious fervor.

High school and college didn't change this, and by early adulthood, I was playing the same tune. Once a year, I'd find myself generously offering to wipe clean some friend's face only to be reminded yet again that it was Ash Wednesday. It's funny how you go from nice person ("Here, let me get that schmutz off your forehead") to putz ("No! It's Ash Wednesday!") so quickly. 364 days a year, you're doing someone a favor ("Hey, you've got a little newsprint stain right there"), but once a year, you've outed yourself as a religious moron. I guess it's the equivalent of the non-Jews who wish us a happy Yom Kippur on the Jewish holyday of atonement. Speaking of which: At least I didn't wish anyone a happy Lent today.

So, thanks for putting up with us on this special Wednesday. We'll always forgive you for mispronouncing Hannukah if you continue to forgive us for trying to clean that schmutz off your face.