According to a full, two-page ad in the recent December 12 issue of New York Times Magazine, Ford considers these vehicles, a Lincoln Aviator and a bicycle, to be peers when it comes to negotiating Manhattan streets, even in rush hour.
Here’s the ad’s full text:
Potholes, PSHAW. Sewer grates, YAWN. BUT NEVER DISRESPECT THE DOOR OF A TAXI.
Carlos Aguilera pedals in from Queens. At the foot of the 59th Street Bridge, he whips out his cell phone and fires off a text message reporting form work. Today the NYC messenger will cover forty to eighty miles by bicycle, same as every day, delivering legal briefs, advertising proofs and architectural drawings.
Need to get around Manhattan in a hurry? Follow the NYC bike messenger’s lead. Nimble, alert and able to anticipate, the 302-horsepower Lincoln Aviator gives some real kick. Lightweight and strong, its aircraft-grade aluminum suspension handles with agility. With its encyclopedic memory for addresses, the Navigation System finds routes even locals may not.
Splitting seconds and fractioning inches, maneuvering by reflex and bursts of acceleration, approximately 5000 bike messengers brave the streets of New York from all stripes and points of the globe. Outnumbered three to one by taxis and buses, it’s a constant adrenaline rush for messengers like Carlos Aguilera.
“57th after four o’clock is just a nightmare, nothing but buses. 7th Ave and 34th, pedestrians just run for the trains, not looking. Everywhere you have to look out for people getting out of taxis or you get doored. People look right through us.”
Keep looking. Keep moving. Keep momentum. Stay in the flow. All against oil slicks, ice patches, wet cobblestones. Go online to see how the AWD agility and power of the Lincoln Aviator may also supply a daily source of adrenaline.
It’s rather stupefying to imagine anyone with a straight face advocating super-sized SUVs as “nimble” and a viable means to “get around Manhattan in a hurry”. Our nation’s gluttonous, ruinous addiction to oil has erased any vestige of sane, public discourse involving mass transit, bicycles, or even good old fashioned walking. Read some Jim Kunstler and get even more depressed. I think the odds of Carlos Aguilera, or any of his cycling peers, getting killed by a Linclon Aviator (or a Hummer, an Expedition, a Suburban, etc.) is far greater than getting taken out by a bus or taxi. Wouldn’t that be delicious (but tragic) irony?