WITH $5 A GALLON GAS LOOMING, John McCain now admits,“Things are tough out there, my friends.” Apparently not for Cindy McCain. Not long ago on her Amex cards she charged $750,000. That’s some limit. It was reportedly for jewelry. The McCain campaign insisted the bill was paid within the month, but it seems just a tad ironic that they call Obama an “elitist.”
I’m happy McCain has stopped using “my friends” at town meetings. He was like a barker at a carnival. He once sang “Bomb, bomb, bomb Iran,” now he’s joking Iranians will smoke themselves to death. He’s often confused Shias and Sunnis, Somalia and the Sudan. Today, at a press conference, he spoke about relations between Russia and Czechoslovakia, a country that hasn’t existed since 1993. Where’s Joe Lieberman whispering in his ear when he needs him?
Even W knows there’s no Czechoslovakia. Affectionately, I refer to McCain as McBush, because he’s supported W 95 percent of the time. That’s more than Barney.
With the economy in the tank McBush’s top economic advisor, Phil Gramm (always reminds me of Mertle the Turtle) says we’re a bunch of whiners. “It’s just a mental recession,” he said. To anyone who’s lost their house, job or health coverage, somehow I don’t think that’ll be very comforting.
McBush says it’s fine if we stay in Iraq for another 100 years. Except the Iraqis want us to set a timetable. It is their country, after all. Although some neo-cons still wonder,“How did our oil get under their sand?” All those hospitals, roads, schools and bridges we’re building in Iraq, (part of our $3 trillion) couldn’t we have used those here? Then again, the oil giants are dividing up the refining contracts and we’re coming out sweet. Of course by “we” I mean Exxon and British Petroleum, as opposed to you and me.
So what does any of this have to do with a bike shop? Amidst all the grim news nationally and internationally, I may have created a “feel good” story right here in Ocean Park. Every day at sunset when I walk Oscar, my disabled neighbor’s golden retriever, people come up to pet him, including Patrick, who used to work at a self-storage. Patrick got laid off and has been homeless for the past six months.
Patrick is the Martha Stewart of homelessness. All his belongings fit neatly on his bike. But I noticed that instead of riding it he was always pushing it. It turns out a rim is bent and the brakes are shot. So I came up with a bright idea, which admittedly, is a rarity.
I get my bike serviced at Bike Attack on Main Street. I called co-owner Andrew (Drew) Smith and timidly asked if he’d consider fixing Patrick’s bike “pro-bono.” Drew had a one-word answer, “Sure.” If only the rest of life were that easy.
I was stunned. Patrick was stunned. We walked the bike over to Bike Attack and a day later, thanks to Drew and mechanic extraor-dinaire, Atilla Reisz, Patrick got his bike back, good as new. He hasn’t stopped smiling since.
So, if you need a new bike (at $5 a gallon gas who doesn’t?) or if your old bike needs service, get in touch with Bike Attack (2400 Main St., (310) 581-8014). For jewelry, I suppose you could get in touch with Cindy McCain.
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on July 18, 2008. Read the original PDF.