But here are my gripes:
One... last night, riding down the brand-new bike lane in my neighborhood (the one that's being maligned by drivers and neighborhood businesses alike), I had a Charmin (that's a family-friendly insult... think of what you do with Charmin) scream at me from the window of a passing car. I really hoped I could catch him at the next light and scream back, but no luck. I had to respond in sign language instead. And although I know how to say "I love you" in ASL, I was proposing something a bit more carnal.
Two... this morning as I was leaving, I remembered that it was supposed to rain today. Too hurried to take off my messenger bag and stuff my jacket inside (cue ominous music), I rolled it up and jammed it into my saddlebag instead. Rode to work, promptly forgot it was in there, and left it. No worries, right? This is Iowa. The saddlebag is sacred, protected by a force field of goodness. It's like the bed of a pickup truck.
Um, not so much. When I came out tonight after work, my saddlebag had been looted. My tools (thankfully) were untouched, but my jacket -- the one I've ridden in for years, bought for me by my wife's clan and mended for me by my own mum -- was gone. I'm holding out the vain, naive Iowan hope that either a) a commuter coworker friend really needed to borrow it and will be returning it tomorrow, or at the very least b) the person now wearing it was really cold and wet and destitute and needed it much more than I did.
Still, I'm mightily cheesed. So local readers, if you see someone who isn't me sporting a banana-yellow J&G Cyclewear jacket around town, it might just be mine. Don't do anything dumb (like the Portland Folding Bike Posse) -- I don't need vigilante justice on my conscience. Just maybe give that person a "hey, nice jacket, where'd you get it?" gentle jab. Being a born-and-bred Midwesterner, passive-aggressive guilt is enough vengeance for me.
(artist's rendition of suspect in purloined rainwear begging for mercy
as the barbs of snarky cyclists rain down upon him from the heavens)
So, in a nutshell, that's been my Bike Month, which is why I'm looking forward to June.
1 comment:
until I recently retired it (i.e. pitched it), I had an inexpensive O2 rain jacket that had been put away wet at some time. As a result, it smelled a bit funky (to be generous). It also was torn at the pits, which actually improved the ventilation. This would be the perfect rain jacket to keep in the pickup bed or saddlebag. Now I feel bad that I didn't keep the stanky lil' jacket just so I could give it to you.
:-)
Steve in Peoria
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