Operating under the assumption that the editors at the Seattle Times have a choice, and that they choose to gravitate toward the dogshit whiners whining about dogshit. They do not publish every single rant or rave submitted. They carefully curate the collection and it always seems to remind me that Seattle is still a podunk western town with a podunk newspaper founded in 1891.
But that poor old codger is still flustered by the crazy bicyclist bicycling in the bike lane, waking up at night reliving the whole scene again and again. For a split second I wondered was that me? Not the codger, the cyclist. But I went down the list: I don’t raise a fist and I don’t yell. I do often offer up unintelligible hand signs and mumble things like “seek and you will find” I don’t ride fast. However when traffic is stacked-up backed-up bumper-to-bumper, the bike lane looks to be hauling ass. I’m not out on my bike to teach anyone a lesson but sometimes I like to remind drivers that the bike lane exists for bikes. It’s not just painted on to collect broken glass and act as an ad hoc right turn lane when traffic backs up. Maybe it was me.
If I was editing a bike messenger zine this shit would be cut and pasted in there somewhere in the next issue. Not the dog shit, the bike shit, literally cut out with scissors and pasted with glue.
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