Yesterday’s “Grand Theft Bike” expose in the Herald hit close to home. Not that I got misty because I’ve ever had a bike ripped off – I prefer transportation that comes with chrome wheels and heated leather seats. But Jessica Van Sack threw a detail into the piece – “The carcasses of bikes lay strewn on the streets throughout the city, useless bodies still locked to meters and racks” – that brought the ghosts of stories about awesome coffee table books from yesteryear crashing down. Halfway-decomposed bike carcasses! Locked to poles! I wrote that story before!

And indeed I did. Way back in 2005, I talked to John Glassie, who’d put together a rockin’ little book of photos of bikes locked to poles in his neighborhood. Some were nice and shiny and in one piece; most were not. We talked about the torrid velocity at which bikes and bicycle parts circulate through New York City’s black market, and the proufound sense of sadness one gets when passing by a bike that had been stripped by thieves, abandoned by its owner, and left to rot on the street. It was a fun conversation, and since the article that followed it has been lost to one of a number of recent WeeklyDig.com redesigns, I dug up the transcript and copy-and-pasted some good bits for your enjoyment. So enjoy, dammit.

It happened one morning that there was this crowd, this gang of juvenile delinquents three or four blocks ahead of me. One was carrying a 2×4, one was carrying a couple wheels – their booty and their implements of destruction. I followed them around taking pictures of the carnage they left behind. The kids and thieves are pretty good at ruining, damaging and otherwise vandalizing these bikes. They would like to steal the whole bike. They would prefer that they weren’t locked at all, and they could just take the whole thing. Barring that, they take a tire or whatever they can. There’s not a lot of vandalism per se; there’s the destructive activity that comes as a result of trying to bust a lock and steal any part they can. They have disregard for anything they can’t take, so they leave a wake of carnage. They hate what they can’t get.

There’s an identification that’s going on with it. Life in the city is tough; a lot of people feel like the way these bikes look. And people are drawn to these pictures because a bicycle is what you wanted for Christmas; there’s nothing more nostalgic than our ideas towards bicycles, and to see these poor bikes, which have never done any harm to anybody, hurt this way – it does have an emotional impact for some people.

[Glassie photo cortesy of McSweeney's]

But not so fast! The city doesn’t give away the privilege of blazing through the internet at 11mbps and waiting for half an hour for Google Maps to load to just anybody. You’ve got to be in the club, fool. You’ve got to have a card.

And trust the trustees of the Boston Public Library – having a library card is the coolest, rockingest thing ever. For proof, look no further than this guy right here.

Check him out! He’s young and happening. He’s got a library card all up in this piece (not to mention what I can only imagine was a youthful-looking haircut, at some point in time). Please also note the presence of a double-breasted zoot suit. Clearly, this dude is ready to rawk his way through some books and stuff.

Chances are, he’ll be checking his AOL electronic mail along the way.

Related: Anybody know where I can score some Steve Vai tix? Reeeeeeee! Deenerdeenerdeenerdeeneeeeeeeeer!