Ordinarily when faced with the epicly proportioned nonsense that we were just a mere two days ago, I can usually get onto one of my bicycle machines and go blow some steam off, resulting in a temporary sense of feeling betterness.
That didn’t really happen on Monday.
In fact I returned home even more pissed off than I was when I left. Compounding this mental state was a topic I broached last week regarding California governor Jerry Brown joining professional wrestling hopeful Rick Perry in vetoing a law requiring cars to safely pass cyclists.
In the short time since that veto was made, two cyclists have been killed in automobile collisions.
So as I was riding my bicycle machine in an attempt to clear my head, I was reflecting on a conversation I had with someone many years ago relating to specifically designated bike lanes. The person with whom I was having this conversation explained that specific and separate lanes for bikes wouldn’t happen due to the legal responsibility of the city, county or what have you if a cyclist were to get hurt in that designated lane. As it stands now, in most places it’s a white stripe on the road separating us from them. If we get hurt, or killed, it’s our responsibility, as well as good old fashion bad luck.
I then began relating this conversation with the aforementioned veto. Not that the law would have ensured that cyclists would all be safe, but we would at least have an existing measure to fall back on instead of just having to throw our hands up and accept full responsibility. As it stands now, we get hit in a bike lane, it was an accident, and as well all know, those sometimes happen. Oh well, on I go with my life. No laws were broken, but both of my legs were.
Secondly, if a car were to safely pass a cyclist and a collision were to happen between that car and another because of said safe passing, a far greater monetary impact would result. Insurance would be involved, police, fire services and so on. In contrast to this, not only are fewer of those resources tapped into, but the city even stands to make upwards of $42.00 on the deal.
Now I’m not saying that this is in fact, fact, and it’s probably obvious that my tongue is slightly flirting with my cheek. As I said previously I don’t remember who I had the conversation with or in what context it occurred.
The second observation was just my own bout with paranoia and the result of an acute persecution complex, but it is food for thought, you know?
Just as I thought I was going to be able to begin to digest my frustrations about this topic, Jon and Scott both notified me of the following knock out blow;
Michael Bryant signed a book deal.
I don’t even know what to do with that.
With all of the other aspects of this topic that we’ve broached, getting this piece of news leaves me feeling completely defeated.
In an effort to shake it off, and attempt to try and assemble some semblance of a normal post today, I will change course and show off a new thing which has currently taken up residence under my addled body.
It was only two weeks ago that I finally got around to giving a year’s end perspective on my All City Nature Boy which if you recall, I didn’t want to love but ended up loving anyway.
Well, the ante has been upped when I took delivery of it’s considerably more pants-tightening younger brother, the Columbus Zona;
It is a magnificent bastard to be sure, and as I was nearing my secret hide out, while waiting for a light to change, a gentleman emerged from a corner coffee shop and enthusiastically complemented my fine new ride.
As has been expressed in the details, this frame set has dropped some weight since its first outing and has a top tube which is just a hair longer. Having severe OCD and sensitivities to such changes, I suspected I would notice the extra quarter inch but I do not.
It rides like a dream and if I had a bike scale I would tell you that it falls in at around 24 pounds, but really I have no idea. What I do know is that All City has a few varying sizes left, and if you have a bit of scratch left over now that you have snorted a bulk of your inheritance checks, the Zona might be something to consider.
Assuming that my Bandit jerseys arrive, I should be looking right as rain atop this bicycle machine any day now.
While we are on the topic of the long illusive Bandit jersey, I would like to officially announce that if any of us has either gotten knocked up, or done some knocking up when I originally announced this project, we would all have like, two month old baby human beings. This fact is not lost on me in the slightest, but I am very happy to say that according to the latest information from Earth, Wind & Rider, the wait will begin to come to an end as this week draws to a close.
God willing and the creek doesn’t do any of the rising, we should all have these in our hands by the end of this month.
This sounds vaguely familiar to an announcement I made just a month ago, but as we all know, sometimes things happen and life takes turns that we have no control over.
After having been at the helm of this ship for two years, no one knows this fact better than I do.
Anyway, I will be in possession of a small assortment of additional sizes should you want to get one of your own, because as Dog as my witness, I will never try to do anything like this again.
Unlike, of course, submitting a poster to the ever popular series of Arcrank exhibitions.
As a matter of fact, San Francisco plays host to the very next in the series this coming Friday, the 21st;
If you don’t come to see the art work, come to see Big Dave;
Truthfully, that’s the only reason I think anyone should go anyway.
In closing, Brent sent me a link to a lovely set of photos by Philip Darden that brings me to a far away land, chock full of nice people and Southern twangs;
It all just feels right.
It is with that that I mention if I had an office, I would be out of it until Monday. The plate is pretty full so I might not even be back here until Tuesday.
I’ve also recently been having strong feelings that I have a long lost billionaire relative who is about to die and leave me their fortune.
If that’s the case, I probably won’t see you back here on Wednesday either.
Until next time, high fives for low lives.