Mr Trail Safety Speaks!

I was summoned for jury duty this past May. I showed up. And here's what transpired: -------------- Greetings, citizen! You'll be amused! amused! that my troll shirt, a pair of wrinkled trou, some beat-up shoes and 3.5 days of whiskers got me off jury duty. As we marched in, we were studied by both attorney teams. There was an abundance of sleek prosperity, poolside tans, expense account lunches. The shoes alone equalled many months rent where I live. The case: a 6 week donnybrook involving Mr & Mrs Mexican Plaintiff suing Toyota and the guy driving their FourRunner on New Year's Eve 2004, after it got hit by a Chevy Lumina. You know, the rolling beer-can. I pleaded Extreme Financial Hardship, [along with 7/8 of the jury panel]. We were recessed. Outside, I was talking to the guy sitting next to me. He'd plead the same. Only he was wearing D&G glasses, had designer jeans, shiny shoes and an oyster chunkette watch. I walked, he didn't. BTW: the costume sugges

Years of cycling in this strange city and I’ve seen all kinds of weird shit. One of my faves was a chubby Latina backing her Scion mini-brick out of her driveway. She was on her cell, and balancing a plate of tamales with her right hand. Or the eco-betty driving her Prius, and giving me the stink-eye because I just happened to get in her way as she was coming down an offramp. Another moron decided he just had to yell at me. I caught him at the light, leaned into the car, and blew my whistle. Loud. “Man, you scared me!” His eardrums had ruptured, blood was seeping out. His girlfriend had a resigned look on her face. Yeah, you scared me too. Go fuck yourself. Do I hate motorists? Of course I do. All of you dicks are not paying attention, ever. Your inattention is now my problem. Shouldn’t be, but is. So it’s generic. Last Saturday I was at the Silver Lake Farmer’s Market. It’s a sweet little deal. I’d ridden over to do my weekly greens run. Between the annoying guitarist and the flower