I’ve owned seven cars. I lived in Manhattan for eight years so I’ve owned fewer than if I didn’t. It is the one place you can live, truly, without an automobile in this country.

I am about to go pick up my fourth bicycle. Well, since I’ve become an adult. The number would have been three except the third one I owned got stolen within a few months.

A bicycle is a sublime machine of personal mobility. Now that I have an office outside the home only a few miles away, I will ride this bike to work and back. I will do the regular “exercise” rides two or three times a week (anywhere from 15-30 miles each outing) that have been one of my better habits since 198o, when I purchased my first bike and used to do three or four laps around Central Park in the early evenings. Now I do the same thing in Forest Park here in St. Louis.

There’s just something about the interaction between human and machine, the periodicity of the pedals, the alloy construction that makes them so lightweight these days, the flexibility of the quick-release brakes and tires and adjustable seats. I wonder if a machine so perfectly suited for the way humans ought to live has ever been invented?

I should also be thankful that I am still alive to buy a fourth bike. It isn’t the safest mode of travel. Especially out in the suburbs and rural areas. The other day, when I made one of the last rides on my venerable old bike (see ya, old buddy!), I could feel the anger, frustration, and weariness of commuters in their cars rising from the pavement more than the heat will in the dead of summer. I sense that people in cars resent people on bikes that much more during rush hour.

Once, out the middle of southern Illinois where my in-laws live, an 18-wheeler driver blew his goddamn horn right as he was approaching near an Interstate entrance. I wobbled and almost fell off from the shock of it. I gave him the finger. Do you know, he slammed on his brakes, idled his rig, jumped out of his cab, and rushed me? I just stood there. He told me I had no business being on a major highway. I told him he had no reason to blow his horn other than to fuck with my head. Strangely, we came to some acceptance of each other by the end of the encounter.

A month ago, I really did almost get killed, about to fly through a major city intersection catching the walk sign, when a lady driving a hunk of an SUV pressed the gas pedal to make a right turn. I wrecked but my bike and my body were okay. The lady’s accomplice jumps out of the car and screams from the door, “Slow the fuck down! Slow the fuck down!” I calmly looked at him and said, “Pal, you see that walk sign? I have the right of way.” He continued stringing epitaphs together while I got myself together to proceed. Unfortunately, while his delivery wasn’t exactly courteous, his message was correct. I need to slow down.

But I love bikes. I love to ride. I love to be external to the artificial, atmospheric, antiseptic bubble we live our lives these days.

Maybe the start of a new decade has me waxing philosophical as I wait for the evening of December 31, 2009 to progress further before partaking of good friends, food, and family for the countdown.

I like root cause analysis. Must be my engineering education. Humanity’s “other” problem is the root cause of much warfare, strife, ill will, prejudice, racism, and poverty, the maladies of the human condition we aren’t good at containing. The “other” is the person who doesn’t look like me/us, think like me/us, or act like me/us.

Simply, the “other” problem is created by how we define ourselves and the groups we participate in. It is a problem of relativity. If the “other” is worse or different, that makes us or me better or not different. Morally and ethically, we know it shouldn’t be. But it is damn hard to think otherwise. And even harder to put those thoughts into practice and the pursuit of justice for all.

The other is the other class of religion, the other denomination, the other political party, the adjacent landowner, the inhabitants of the ghetto, the other country, the other genre of music, the other people at the top of the hill, the person with lower or higher test scores, the people who go to that college or work for that company. And so on.

The other works great for sports and competition. It’s good to define your opposition in ways that help you win. But in human relations, not so much.

When defining the “other” escalates into portraying the “enemy,” strife and warfare ensue. Or a personal breach. Someone you refuse to speak to anymore. If you’ve ever witnessed a divorce, or been part of one, you know how two people who loved each other can become enemies. Sometimes, the “other” results from a simmering historical confrontation on a national scale.

Philosophically, do we need “others?” It can be a dog eat dog world out there. Only so many can share the spoils of life. Or the limited resources afforded by this planet. Either you win or…an “other” does.

Economically, who makes money off of “others?” If you think you deserve more than someone else, well, isn’t that person an “other?” Extracting and moving resources among people and getting paid for the services is the raison d’etre of an economy. The more we move resources among people, and the faster we do it, the more money someone makes. If we all had only what we needed and no yearning for more, how much economy could there be? I doubt greed is leaving the human condition anytime soon, though.

With respect to religion, why does worship in one way seem to, even if covertly, exclude the way others worship? Sure, many churches, synagogues, mosques, and temples work together to help others in need. But just drawing the boundaries of a church or group in this way creates an “other.”

Why is it that creating our individual identities (which includes the groups we belong to and the beliefs we adhere to) seems to somehow necessitate excluding “others?” And while most nice and rational people profess the tenets of human equality, still we join clubs, attend schools, make money, and otherwise live in ways that prevent equality, if for no other reason than the imbalance in resources we suck up when we have all that money or power and influence. No way can everyone end up on top. Is human competition and accumulation part of the human condition?

Humanity’s “other” problem may simply be an unsolvable dimension of the human condition. And believe me, I am at least as guilty of creating “others” in my mind as anyone. I strive to distinguish myself on the world stage, and in doing so I undoubtedly, even subconsciously, create “others.” But on this New Year’s Eve, I am urging myself and others to deliberately pay attention to the “other,” think about the boundaries we impose and why, face the envelope we are compelled to operate within, the lines we draw in the way we think about ourselves, and put a human face to anyone and everyone on the other side.

Happy New Year!