Casualties du Jour

Clearwater, FL: "[the bicyclist] failed to yield to a GMC van..."

Farmingdale, NY: "a 14-year-old... was fatally struck by a car Sunday..."

Orange County, CA: "Bicyclist only moderately hurt in crash"

Flagstaff, AZ: "bicyclist has been killed ... after a collision with a city dump truck."

Chillicothe, OH: "...killed Sunday afternoon as he rode his bicycle on U.S. 23"

Saugerties, NY: "A 16-year-old bicyclist remained hospitalized Monday after being struck by a patrol car..."

In the interest of fair and balanced reporting:

Boston, MA: "An 84-year-old ... who was hit by a bicyclist Friday afternoon died later that night..."

Since I am of course in NO WAY fair OR balanced, I feel I should point out that the bicyclist stayed at the scene of the accident, at least tried to help, and was not charged.

The Right Way

On Caltrain, conductor's voice over the intercom:

"Please keep cell phone use to a minimum, and speak quietly into your phone when in use. On the behalf of your fellow passengers, we ask you to be considerate, and exercise discretion. Thank you."

No, no, no. Here's how to do it:

"On behalf of all the scam artists and personality thieves on the train, we'd like to ask you to speak loudly and clearly into your cell phone at all times, especially when discussing information of a personal or private nature. Thank you!"

That should work.

Parenthood

Overheard while waiting for a light at 9th & Judah. A mother and her toddler son, I'd guess about two years old, were holding hands and waiting to cross the street.

BOY: "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy."

MOTHER (annoyed): "WHAT?!!"

(pause)

BOY: "I love you."

If that doesn't just sum it up perfectly, then nothing does.

Today's Casualties

Wellfleet, MA: "... it is believed that a dog in the vehicle may have impeded [the driver's] point of view."

Salt Lake City, UT: "The driver was not cited as he had a green light..."

Clearwater, FL: "The bicyclist ... crashed into the back of a parked mail truck..."

Edmond, OK: "The man was riding a bicycle on a sidewalk ... and lost control..."

Logan Township, NJ: "[The bicyclist] was traveling on the shoulder ... when he was struck by a pick-up truck."

Charleston, SC: "The bicyclist was given a warning citation for disregarding a stop sign."

Utica, NY: "The unidentified driver was found at his residence and ticketed for leaving the scene of an accident."

Obama Speech Aftermath

My six-year-old daughter, along with the rest of her first-grade class, listened to the President's speech on Tuesday. We had the following conversation that evening:

ME: "Did you go to hear Obama's speech with your class today?"
HER: "Yeah."
ME: "What did he say?"
HER: "I dunno."

So much for her indoctrination into The Socialist Agenda. I'll just have to do it myself.

Sweet Streets

Since the last time I was riding regularly, the city has re-paved huge swaths of The Wiggle, as well as Folsom and 10th Street, vastly improving my commute.

I love you, San Francisco!

I didn't see anything peculiar this morning, but I have no doubt the city will deliver on the trip home tonight.

Alembic

I love this place. Old-timey cocktails to die for, made like nobody else makes them.

We were in there on Saturday, and had little roasted duck hearts on a stick. It made me feel like a dark pagan god receiving burnt offerings from my worshippers.

The wait staff and bartenders are pretty well illustrated. When the waitress slipped my Old-Fashioned (Rittenhouse 80, no garbage) onto the table, I saw this on her forearm.

"Money doesn't talk, it swears." -- Bob Dylan

It made me wonder how to tip her.

News of SUV's Death Greatly Exaggerated

The US Dept. of Transportation's CARS program, popularly known as "Cash for Clunkers," reports that the top four clunkers being dumped are Ford Explorers, and top new vehicles being bought are mostly foreign-made economy cars like the Toyota Corolla and the Prius.



Cash for Clunkers (Yahoo)

Is it the death of the SUV? Well, not quite. Edmunds challenged the numbers, pointing out that if you count simply by make and model, instead of treating each configuration (e.g., 2WD and 4WD) separately, the top vehicle purchased is actually another SUV, the Ford Escape, and two pickup trucks actually made the top-10 list.



Analyst disputes top replacements for clunkers (Toledo Blade)

Edmunds: DOT’s Cash for Clunkers Top Ten List Gets It Wrong

Well, it is a bit smaller.

Valencia Hit-and-Run Suspect Arrested

Many other blogs have covered the story of Andrew Bennett, who was struck by a hit-and-run driver while riding with his 4-year-old son on July 1. The driver was reportedly talking on a cell phone, and ran a red light.

The good news in this story is that a suspect was just arrested by the SFPD.

Hopefully the medical costs of Andrew's injuries won't break his family, and he'll be able to work again. I suppose we should simply be glad he and his son are alive at all.

No props to the Chron on this one, sadly: not only did they not cover the story, but actually published several anti-cyclist Letters to the Editor on the days following.

I'm especially impressed with this comment of Andrew's:

"... even if you ride a little bit around the city it makes you feel really good. I really miss the best way to move in San Francisco."

Amen.

Soft Rain: Detroit goes Feral

The photographer James Griffioen has been documenting the beautiful waste that is Detroit: abandoned homes and workplaces being reclaimed by vegetation.


This photo in particular reminded me of Sarah Teasdale's poem, "There will come soft rain":

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly.
And Spring herself when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

What has this got to do with biking? Nothing. Oh wait, there's a biker in one of the photos.

Road Rage Redux

Another place not to go riding: Naperville, IL.

A 67-year-old tried to run over a kid on a BMX bike, got the bike wedged onto her car, and fled the scene. Just look at those dead eyes -- this lady would as soon kill you as look at you.

I love the air-quotes around 'intentionally', as though the editor were audibly sneering at the kid's version of the story.

Driver Shoots Bicyclist, Film At 11

A guy is out bicycling with his wife, and their three-year-old kid in a child seat. A driver argues with him about "child safety," and SHOOTS HIM IN THE HEAD. Well, that's showing him!

After three readings, I'm still puzzled by this story. If you actually care about a guy keeping his kid safe, how do you end up deciding that shooting him is the thing to do? It doesn't make sense. So I think it's basically all bullshit.

This is what I think actually happened. The bicyclist did something that pissed off the driver. The driver went berserk and shot him in a fit of road rage. Then the newspaper BENT OVER BACKWARD trying to justify it:

• He's a firefighter! Those guys are HEROES! 9/11!
  
• He was concerned about the child's safety!
• Hey, it was a busy street!
• And anyway, he didn't kill the guy -- his helmet stopped the bullet! Maybe it was just a warning shot!
  

So he was arrested for attempted murder, and is now out on bail, enjoying "paid administrative leave" (i.e., vacation).

What did I learn? Never, ever try to go on a family bike ride in Asheville, NC.

Oh, and WEAR YOUR HELMET!

Today's Sightings

In the Park Panhandle: a girl with ketchup-red, waist-length hair, pushing a Papasan chair down the path in a baby carriage. This thing is SIX FEET WIDE at least, and takes up most of the path.

Moving day?

Found it abandoned on the sidewalk, and decided to bring it home?

Another Cacophony Society impromptu drive-in movie?

On Kezar: a teenage Goth, complete with eyeflop jet-black hair, black t-shirt, black shorts, and black Chuck Taylors with skulls, dribbling a basketball.

Solemnly.

There Needs To Be A Word

... for a certain kind of person. I'm sure you've met one or two. Here's an example of the kind of behavior that defines who I'm talking about: they're on an escalator, it's full of people. They can see it's full of people. The escalator gets to the top (or bottom, as the case may be). They step off.

And they just stand there.

There's an entire loaded escalator behind them, about to deliver a stream of people right into their ass. Are they even aware of this? Apparently not, because when one person after another shoves by them, they seem surprised, if not actually slightly miffed.

How is this possible? They were on the escalator, they could see all the other people. Is it because they can't see behind them? If they can't actually see something, does it simply not exist, the way we imagine that dinosaurs, with their walnut-sized brains, perceived the world?

The very same people will stand in a crowd on a subway platform, waiting for a train to arrive. When it comes, and opens its doors right in front of them, they will step through those doors into the nearly empty train, and -- you guessed it -- stand there. The train in front of them is full of space. There's a crowd of people behind them trying to get on the train. And yet, they get on and think (I'm guessing), "Gosh, this is a good spot right here," and freeze. Again, they actually seem rather annoyed as people shove into and around them.

Another MUNI-based behavior (yeah, these people are all on MUNI. What were the odds?) is picking a spot on a crowded car right next to the door. The train pulls up to a stop, the doors open, and the doorway's packed with people who do not budge. People getting off the train have to squeeze between and around them as they stand there unperturbed, with their seven pink grocery bags full of crap, noodling that ringy control-panel thing on their black iPod with the tiny Sanrio bird on a tether dangling from it. You know, I mean hypothetically.

I wouldn't be at all surprised if one of these people stopped their car in the middle of the freeway, got out and spread a picnic blanket. Or walked right up to the stage at a well-attended outdoor concert, and popped up a big stripey beach umbrella.

There needs to be a word for this. "Inconsiderate" is too judgemental, "clueless" isn't specific enough. I think it's a very particular mental disorder, a mild form of retardation. Maybe what we need is a Greek or Latinate sort of medical-sounding term, meaning "blind to crowds" or something like that. Xeno-somethingorother.

I'm not angry, at least not right now. They're not bad people, just deficient. They need treatment. Failing that, I wouldn't rule out institutionalization.

I was chatting with my friend Kim this morning, who's from NYC, and she was of the opinion we should pack them up and ship them there for a week. I pointed out that most of them would probably end up getting run over, or shot. "Not a problem," she responded. "I see it as culling the herd."

(Lug Your) Bike To Work Month

Yes, it's May, and the streets are full of bikes. Including mine. It's good to be back.

Today I took my daughter to school on one of these. The thing weighs more than 50 pounds, more than my bike does. I wonder whether anyone makes one of these that isn't a bear to haul around, but soon it'll be a moot point anyway -- she'll be riding her own bike.



I look forward to that day. Mostly from the knee region.

State-Based Learning

I picked up a staple in the rear tire on Market Street this morning, but didn't notice it until the rear wheel started wobbling all over the place. So I got to pull over and change a flat.

When I lived (and bike-commuted) in Berkeley, I had to do this almost every week. The road shoulders there were full of all kinds of crap. This sucked, but it also meant I got really good at it, and always had the right equipment handy.

Well, in ten years of biking in SF, I've probably had two flats, and none recently. I hadn't even looked at the contents of the tool bag in over a year. I had no idea what was in there. I opened it up, crossing my fingers mentally.

I had a hand-pump, so all I really needed was a patch kit, and some tire irons. Chances are, since I hadn't opened the bag in a while, that the rubber cement in the patch kit was all dried out. Worst case, I'd end up taking a bus the rest of the way. Not a disaster, no more than a mild bummer really. However, since it was my first day back riding in months, I wasn't too pleased at the prospect. If I wanted to ride the bus, I would've gotten on a bus, dammit.

Not to worry. Apparently, I was loaded for bear, flat-wise: two new tubes, a quick-flate and three CO2 tanks. Sometimes it's nice having an obsessive-compulsive do all your bike maintenance. Thanks, me-from-the-past.

And did I even remember how to change a flat? Why yes, I did. Five minutes, back on the road. With filthy black fingertips. Smiling.

See A Buck, Pick It Up

Today I found a dollar bill sitting on the sidewalk in front of Progress Hardware. I looked around; but whoever dropped it was already far away.

Half a block away, an older bearded guy in neon-orange camo was selling The Street Sheet. I handed it to him, saying, "I just found this on the sidewalk. I think someone wanted me to give it to you."

He smiled, bemused, and said, "OK. Thanks."

Maybe not so much with the sanctimony next time.

Would I have done that with a twenty, I wonder? I'd like to think so.

My Poor Brain

Every once in a while, when I'm reading a sign, I read the wrong words. And not just a little wrong, either. Once I read a sign which said:

COFFEE AND DONUT 35¢

as:

CHEESE AND DOUCHE 35¢

that was one hell of a double-take. But not as much as when I passed Nomad this morning and saw a lovely neon sign reading:

BABY PIERCING

Luckily, I was able to stay on the bike.

Market St. Bike Lane Rally

The rally at Market and Octavia this morning, to protest the MTA's plan to eliminate the bike lane, was quite a party! It ended with the lane being (temporarily) painted neon-green -- a quick prototype of the improvements that should be used to address the problems with illegal right-turners.

There's full coverage on the SFBC Market & Octavia page.

I ride in this lane every day. If they turn this into a merge-with-auto-traffic lane, it's obvious that the illegal right turn problems will simply get worse. I'll end up crossing Octavia somewhere else. Which is probably exactly what the MTA wants.

Carson Kressley He Ain't

Market Street, 8 a.m.. An extremely thin young man, wearing a peacoat and leather jeans, with stylishly mussed-and-gelled tinted hair, is having an argument via cell phone.

"I want to make you into a work of art, but you just want to look like everyone else!"

I wonder briefly whether he's hairdresser, an interior decorator, a wedding planner, or a coutourier, before deciding it doesn't matter.

Won't Her Kids be Surprised

Seen near La Boulange on Cole.