Changing Gears

I should perhaps write about the alleged Gates memo about the lack of a U.S. Iran policy, because that would give me an opportunity to report on my own op-ed late last month on U.S.-Israeli relations which I conclude by wondering if the Obama administration actually has a policy for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict (the "peace process" not being a very credible phenomenon lately). And maybe I will soon, although I also have things to say about this piece in the St. Petersburg Times by Dmitri Trenin. If you let things slide for a while, they tend to pile up (if that's a metaphor that makes sense). For example, I discovered the blog of a colleague, the Holland Bureau, which is well worth reading. The author has put me on his blog roll, underlining that it is high time for me to figure out how to add one of those rolls to this blog. And I haven't said anything yet about my lecture on Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War, last week at an Amsterdam bookstore, even though that assignment shares a large part of the responsibility for my recent silence. So many issues, so little time (today again also). So I'll quickly tell the story of how my derailler fell off my commuter, last night on the way home. This had never happend to me before, on any bike. It led to another first, namely a phone call to arrange a pick-up and a ride home. Perhaps it was time. Actually, having seen the thread, or lack thereof, in the derailler hanger, I know for a fact it was time for that thing to fall out. I've had the greenish-yellowish Trek 2300 since 1994, and for the first seven years it was my main bike, the one I raced and trained on. Then it became my winter bike, and in recent years it has served as a commuter. In Milwaukee I rode it to the Pettit National Ice Center (and once or twice to waterpolo practice at the Schroeder YMCA in Brown Deer), in Holland I've used it to get back and forth a couple of times a week year-round between Nederhorst den Berg and Amsterdam. Thirteen miles into the ride home yesterday, on the Keverdijk, I was suddenly pushing through air, and I suppose I was lucky that the device did not get caught in my spokes before I could stop. I think there's a way to fix it. Otherwise, my brother has saved the Koga Myata Roadwinner I bought in 1986 or '87. It still runs. If that turned out not to be practical, the dream scenario kicks in: the Klein becomes the year-round commuter, the Colnago becomes the general back-up bike, and at the top of the food chain, we'll put something new, something fast, something light (something expensive).