                    |
Marking Time
by John Whiteley
CBC President 1995-1996
December 1999
The end of the calendar year is rapidly approaching, and with it comes the end of the 1900’s. No, not the end of the millennium, no matter how much the marketing people wish to hype it. There was no year zero (Y0K?). Therefore, the first decade was the ten years from 1 to 10, and the second decade started with year eleven. Likewise, the first century included the 100 years from 1 to 100, and the second century started with year 101. The first millennium took in the years 1 to 1,000, with the second millennium starting with year 1,001, and so on. Mark my words -- in 2001 the marketers will start hyping "the first year of the new millennium" just as if all their "new millennium 2000" mantras never existed.
But, really, the whole subject is moot. You see, the medieval monk who developed the calendar we use today began counting from the year of the birth of Christ, but he made a little mathematical error and was off by a couple of years. By most modern accounts Jesus was born 2000 years before 1996, so 1997 was the first year of the third millennium. We missed it.
But what will the world be like when the calendar rolls over to a year with so many zeros in it? We have all heard the dire warnings of elevators crashing from the upper floors, airplanes falling out of the skies, and ATMs refusing to give up any cash. (Actually, if you stop to think about it, the opposite could possibly happen -- ATMs could actually become flagrant money dispensers! The worst case scenario depends on your point of view.) What is more likely to happen is that airplanes will keep flying, elevators will continue their monotonous tasks, banks will stay open, and those people who made a career fixing the Y2K Bug will join the ranks of the unemployed. And Yr. Obd’t. Svt. will be less likely to make mistakes when he writes the first checks of the new year. Writing 2999 by mistake seems pretty unlikely.
Of course, all these predictions come from a retro-grouch who’s employed in a field that was around long before the first millennium, and that hasn’t changed much since its inception. (Five thousand years of tradition unhampered by progress.) Yes, we have all the electronic, chip driven gizmos on board that tell me where I am, where I’m supposed to be going, and when I should get there. And, like almost everyone else, I have no idea what makes them tick except black magic. Actually, you see, Bill Gates sold his soul to the Devil for a lot of money, and the rest is history. But if the Y2K Bug decided to eat each one of the little black boxes that keep us going it still wouldn’t matter. The stars and planets still perform their majestic dance through the heavens, and the navigational knowledge that has been passed from sailor to sailor through the generations won’t be erased from my feeble excuse for a brain just because the last two digits of the year turn to 00. (And, since I’ll probably be working at midnight on New Year’s Eve, I won’t be self-destructing any of those little gray cells, either.) No, give me a sextant, a reasonably accurate watch, and a set of navigational tables and I’ll manage to get from Point A to Point B quite nicely, thank you.
And do you know what else won’t happen? Our sport won’t change! Even if the most dire predictions came true, two utterly reliable modes of transportation, modes that aren’t dependent on computer chips, would still work. Old British sports cars and bicycles. Well, maybe one mode of transportation would work. British sports cars still have Lucas electronics, which were the prototype for the Y2K Bug. But our bicycles would still transport us reliably to school, to the store, to work, or just to visit with friends.
Just think of it! Our favorite mode of locomotion, be it for recreation or transportation, has been in development for many, many a millennium. Once the wheel was invented, the rest was easy. Piece of cake. Simple. Only took a couple of thousand years. But, oh, what a glorious piece of machinery reached its peak of utility a little over a century ago. Locomotion that doesn’t have to be fed or watered, transportation that takes us over city streets, on country byways, or through the woods, and a work of art beautiful in its simplicity to boot. And it has remained little changed over the past hundred years or so. Oh, the tubes are made of unobtanium, and the seats are guaranteed to maintain your, ahem, "vigor" during all those years of life you’ve added because of your commitment to healthy exercise, but, all in all, your great-grandfather would still recognize your steel mule after all these years. There’s no reason to change such elegant utility.
But, when you come down to it, the bicycle is only a piece of inanimate, emotionless machinery. (Say that last phrase quietly, so your bike can’t hear, or you’ll be plagued by flat tires and broken chains for weeks.) It’s us, the riders, who make the experience so special. And cycling cuts across all barriers -- age, social, and cultural. Riding a bicycle makes you so much more open to the people you meet during your travels, more open than within a closed steel box. A bicycle is the transportation means of choice when travelling in the less-developed parts of the world, such as Rhea County. While cycling you experience the exotic sounds and smells of the countryside as you pedal by, and you can easily stop for photos or to talk with the locals.
And it’s surprising who you find riding bicycles today. Just a couple of days ago, while we were in Jacksonville, I overheard a conversation between our Marine Superintendent and the chief welder for our customer. Both of these guys have a few, and in one case quite a few, years on Yr. Obd’t. Svt., but they were talking about bicycles. The Super remarked that he was in the market for a beach cruiser (this is Jacksonville, after all, right next to Neptune Beach and Atlantic Beach) and the welder said that, although he wasn’t thinking of selling it right now, he had a beach cruiser among his stable of four bicycles. When asked what kind of bikes he had, the welder answered, "Oh, a Schwinn, a cruiser, something European, and one with a lot of speeds." So what if he hasn’t kept up his subscription to Bicycling? At least he’s still in the sport.
As are we all. So as the 1900’s come to an end, and we begin to approach the end of the Second Millennium, go ride your bike! In fact, why not welcome the first day of the year 2000 with a bike ride with some friends?? Remember, you still have a full year to improve your fitness/lose weight/adjust your attitude before the new millennium begins!
Have fun, don’t fall,
John
