Category Archives: Life

Clearing out the Cobwebs

Warrenton 300k
April 4, 2015

When it Really was all Greek to me

In between the time when Greece was the cradle of Democracy and the time when it became the grave of European Community, there was a period where Greeks seemed to be making a concerted assault on middlebrow popular music.

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Why do they hate us so much?

Cracked Helmet 1

Photo by Sam Kim. Creative Commons License.

Rage Against the Machine

In the Washington Post Magazine Concerned Citizen Athur Mason offered this thoughtful, well-reasoned response to an article about the growth of the DC Metro area’s biking infrastructure:

Leah Binkovitz’s article was one of the most biased I have ever read.  Let’s start with the picture on Page 20 captioned “Bikers wait for a green light.”  How long did you have to look for bikers waiting for a green light?  They never wait for the green light.  Anytime I talk to a D.C. driver, the subject always gets around to the lawless biking community.  Red lights, one-way signs, do-not-enter signs mean nothing to them.  They act like they are entitled to go anywhere on any street or sidewalk at any time.  Now wonder they get in accidents.  They have the politicians’ ear and laws passed making it an offense for cars to annoy them in any way.

October 13, 2013

Now I’ll be honest.  The cyclists not waiting at lights thing actually kinda bugs me too.  On an individual level biking for me is about trying to be a different kind of person; and with the remaining shreds of idealism that I have left, I’d also like to believe that biking is also part of the path to a different, hopefully better, kind of world.  You have to wait for 30 seconds at a stop light.  Oh.  My.  God!  The humanity!  Biking is supposed to be about not being the kind of jackass in a car that is concerned with getting from point A to point B as fast as humanly possible.  So if you are a cyclist, stop at that light.  Take a moment to get your head out of your ass and look around at your surroundings.  Don’t be a car driver.  So the letter writer and I have that in common.

Beyond that, however, we don’t have much in common because this person is clearly a tool.

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