Cyclists Beware! July 27, 2006

This is a public service announcement for all cyclists in this city of Ottawa.

If you think you are immune to legal reprimands, think again. Cycling is no longer a recreational activity of a stress-free and benign nature. Cyclists are no longer but victims of the cruel roadways, but also punishable purpetrators of traffic infractions.

Yes, my dear energy-efficient friends, we too can be pulled over for counter-current cycling by power-hungry coppers who just couldn’t lift themselves passed traffic-cop status. We, the innocent, energetic, peaceful, environmentally friendly lot of folk who fancy ourselves leaders in health and trailblazers of new socially acceptable paths, may also be subject to the vial e-ticket spat out by the driver-side printer of an unmarked cruiser that is over-conditioned and inhabited by an officer who is just too lazy to stake out dangerous criminals and legitimate traffic infractors. And so, we too, have entered the circle of law as the cleanhanded, crimeless prey of a system so hungry for power yet so blind to the real ills of this decaying world.

Look out, my friends, look out. Ring those bells proudly! Cower not under the mallot of injustice, but soldier on knowing that if we had the balls, we could outbike the police cruiser anyday!

Stupid me… It hadn’t occurred to me to do that…

Misadventures of Guest Author #1 July 25, 2006

Murphy’s Law

Murphy’s Law says that while one may spend their weekend trying to reenergize and organize one’s quarters, on Monday evening one will happily decide to accompany a friend on a round-trip to Montreal so that said friend may pick-up her parents arriving on an international flight, this trip will take the entirety of the evening and upon returning home one will be too tired to do the minor tidying up and dishes which are again beginning to accumulate; at 2:45am a thunderstorm from Hell will be conjured directed above one’s apartment, and the ensuing onslaught will keep one tossing until at least 4:30am; when one’s alarm rings at 6:50am it will begin to appear to be an excellent idea to call in sick, for surely anyone would feel sick running on less than four hours of intermittent sleep; yet one will remember that there are a number of things waiting at work and even an appointment in the late afternoon, and while this appointment is not at the office, the required documents for said rendezvous are sitting expectantly on one’s desk; one will therefore suck it up and get out of bed; it will of course be raining and thus one will decide to opt for bus over bike; as one is about to dash out the door, knowing that there are mere seconds between catching and not catching the bus, one’s well-meaning landlord will apologetically announce that there will be a realtor viewing one’s apartment today; one will immediately turn on their heel and bee-line back to their apartment which while not a complete disaster is nonetheless not in ‘viewing’ condition; one will now know that all hope of getting to work on time is lost; one will accept this as fact and opt to buy a coffee on the way to wait for the bus; one will then notice that they are in need of bus tickets; coffee in hand one will walk the next block to the ‘Quik-Mart’; on the door of the ‘Quik-Mart’ there will be a sign reading: “Back in 5mins”; at this point one will certainly not have 5mins to spare; one will therefore run to catch the bus currently rumbling down the street, and begrudgingly pay the full $3.00 fare as opposed to the $1.95 ticket fare; one will calmly inform the bus driver that this fee is the stupid tax for not having bus tickets at hand; had one simply stayed in bed there would still have been a realtor knocking on the door mid-morning, and while one felt rested on Monday, one feels wrecked on Tuesday, so says Murphy’s Law.

It’s not supposed to be gross–I’m talking about the melancholy! July 5, 2006

Like the nether regions

of the solitary woman

biking to work in a tight skirt,

My melancholy has been exposed

To the illiberal masses

And to the crisp winds of halcyon.

The first audience showers my agony

With rotten tomatoes.

The second licks the red juices off

Along with the dead skin.