After all, god - whoever she is - rides a bike.
Now, before y'all go postal on us - and believe us a shot-gun blast to the chest would feel orgasmic compared to what we are feeling now - we are fully aware that to some extent us and certainly many of our two wheeled tribe are complete malcontents.
We regularly rewrite and abuse the "Rules of the Road", we blow lights, ignore stop signs, dance and weave in totally unpredictable ways and generally make a huge and terrifying nuisance of ourselves. And, while we freely confess these sins, my penance should not result in me and Shannon and our fellow two-wheelers being treated as extras in Death Race 2000.
Having confessed and received forgiveness through pain and terror, we beg you four-wheelers allow us to remind you of your sins. We do not ask you to confess, nor do we seek your redemption, we merely ask that you wake the fuck up.
We know what Shannon and me do, we confess and receive redemption in ruined tans, fleeting terror and extreme pain. The occasional bent wheel or busted frame. That is the share of paradise we purchased. We are content with our choice. Bodies heal. Bikes break. And, Shannon, in case you are interested, is fine - huge streak of indestructible in that bad-ass girl.
The simple things apply, as time goes by. And having confessed our sins, absolution gives us the arrogance to point yours out to you.
Remember we own stock in your dumbfucktitude.
This is what we don't do.
We do not think the place we are going to (yeah, usually a bar) is more important than than the place you are going to (usually home or work or some equally boring place) so our question is why not relax a dash and enjoy the scenery - sometimes the scenic route and a little patience yields unexpected rewards.
We do not apply make-up while riding. Nor do we consume McCrap™ breakfast food or dose ourselves with three dollar hits of the national drug (we like our buzz from a straw - after we get to the bar).
We do not talk on our phone or text while riding - bejeebus folks who the hell do you HAVE to talk to at 7:30 a.m. while violating speed laws on Milwaukee Avenue? I happy that you got laid - really I am, wish I could - but can't you wait until you get to the office to supply the prurient details?
We do not exit our vehicles, such as they are - 17 lbs. of steel and rubber and wire - on the TRAFFIC side, nor do we consider the street an adjunct of our driveway. If you have to put baby away or unload all that organic food (if you re so fooking GREEN why are you driving a Hummer?) do it curb-side.
Believe me that door swinging open - traffic-side - on Damen is scarier than your over-mortaged condo or your third nipple. Rear-view mirrors are really handy in seeing what is coming at your from the backside. Maybe that's why they come standard at no extra cost. YOu use the fooking mirror under the sun visor, try the one hanging off your door.
Look friends, we understand your driving addiction (though we must confess, we do not get the whole caffeine thing) and we are not asking you you to go cold turkey or get all hipster (some how we just can't see you on a fixie beatin' it through Wicker Park on a Friday afternoon), but we do ask that you exercise a wee dash of common sense.
You are operating a potential deadly weapon. Remember that the next time you get this overwhelming desire to eat and drive or text and drive or whatever other acts of dumbfucktitude your regularly commit while behind the wheel. Remember that me and Shannon are out there doing the same thing you are - trying to get somewhere we need or want to be.
Difference is, Shannon and me well we don't hurt folks (other than ourselves) when we do something stoopid. Hell, we won't even take a pot shot at Dick Cheney. And even if we did we would never blame the bunny.
Please. Drive Care-Fully
WSE