I started reading David Byrne’s Bicycle Diaries last weekend. (Then quickly got distracted by Wintergirls, which I devoured (ha) in a day, and The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian–yeah, I just embarked on a YA kick. The Graveyard Book is next.)
Anyway, one of my favorite bits so far:
Bike riding, in many countries, implies poverty. I rode around Las Vegas and was told that the only other people on bikes there were people who had lost everything, probably through gambling. They’d lost their jobs, families, houses, and, I guess–ultimate insult for an American–their cars. All they had left was a bicycle to get around on.
I’ll do a full review when I finish the book.