Well, not really the world. Maybe the city. Yeah, changing the city for a day. Last Thursday a cyclist in the Omaha area was killed. His name was Jim Johnston. I didn't know him. The details are here.
If you don't want to read it, the only thing I want to point out is that he was on the shoulder of the road when a car veered into the wrong lane and into the shoulder on the opposite side of the road it was supposed to be on and hit Mr. Johnston.
The driver was an 82 year old woman.
I have no comments directly about this tragedy. I think of it this way: Shit happens.
There has been a lot of discussion about right and wrong. About what the laws should be. About how something needs to change. About staying safe, etc.
Tempers flare and it's stupid.
When I go out for a ride, there is rarely an occasion where at least one motorist doesn't behave toward me with some sort of aggression. It is usually just once or twice a ride. So one or two cars out of the many hundred that go by is a small percentage. I don't like it. I don't think anybody should behave that way. But surprisingly, I think the percentage of idiots driving is way higher than the percentage of motorists who put me into some kind of real danger.
I make mistakes too. I've made several. A moment of inattentiveness and I put myself right into danger, making the motorist react to not kill me. And so far, the motorists have succeeded in not killing me 100% of the time.
I think cycling is safe. I'm all for making improvements. Increasing safety and awareness and all of that. But I don't see it as too dangerous. You'd have to know me to know what a chicken I am. If I ride around out there on the roads, it can't be that dangerous. Yes - I could get killed. Anyone could at any time. But life isn't really about trying not to get killed.
The day after Jim Johnston was killed, I was riding to work when a jogger said "Be safe" as I passed. I did not say what I was thinking. I said, "Thank you."
Then I imagined that the jogger felt like she had lifted some burden from my heart - in light of the recent tragedy. Her comment was some sort of show of solidarity. She possibly envisioned me riding along, overcome by the emotion of her powerful advice, welling up with tears and rolling right out onto Dodge street to get splattered.
No - what I was thinking was that Johnston was "being safe." Of course that doesn't mean I should take risks. But "be safe" isn't enough when "shit happens."
On my ride home from work that day, I was stopped at a light. A driver in an SUV got my attention and said, "Be Safe."
I said, "Thank you."
Then he said, "I read about that guy. It was terrible."
I said, "And he was being safe"
He said, "But you've gotta look out for you."
Not in the mood for an argument, I said something like "I know, right?"
After I got home and was telling Jill about these incidents, she said, "Maybe this tragedy will make people think a little bit about the way they drive around bikers."
I understand that thinking. But we've all seen accidents like this before. After a little while, everybody forgets about it and the hostility returns to normal levels.
"Nothing will change," I said. "People will just do what they've always done and I'll try to stay out of their way."
Thankfully, we do have a little reprieve from the same old shit until the memory of Jim Johnston fades from the community's consciousness.
In fact, just 2 days after his tragic death, I was heading out to "Joe Friel my ass up a shit-ton of hills"*. It was a frosty Saturday morning. I got to a 4-way stop before the motorist to my left. He was slowing, so I went ahead. I had the right of way. He was not taking the same road as me. He was not delayed. He didn't quite come to a complete stop, but rolled and revved as if to scare me. I'm pretty sure he was thinking I should have let him go first for some reason.
He rolled down his window and shouted "I hope you die, fag!"
Had Jim Johnston's accident not happened, I don't think death would have been on the insult table.
I thought - I guess Jill was right. People have changed. Normally, He would just have said, "Get off the road, fag!" not even talking about his wish for me to be dead.
I don't believe he really hopes I die. Maybe he does. Maybe whenever he perceives that his life has somehow been interrupted, he wants the source of that interruption to not exist anymore.
Ultimately he will get his wish. I will die. Everybody does. Since he didn't provide a timeline, I can only assume he meant he hopes I eventually die. He hopes I won't just go on living forever like some sort of immortal homosexual.
But here's the truth. I hope he dies, too. Actually, I hope he's already dead. And I hope it was painful and he suffered for hours. Not only that, I don't care anything about his personal life or if he loves or is loved. I just want him dead and with good reason. He said something mean to me. Waah.
Fuckin' idiots.
~~
* Joe Friel my ass up a shit-ton of hills: Joe Friel is the writer of The Cyclist's Training Bible. As far as I know, it is the most trusted source for how to train properly. It comes with all kinds of terms and training programs that I just have never been able to make any sense out of. I get confused when I try to follow anything he says to do. But I want to seem legit to my collegues, so I bluff. I just invoke his name like I'm doing something specific. So if it's a hilly ride, I say "Friel says hills." If it's a commute, "Friel says I need to carry about 20 lbs. on my back today," etc.
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