what to do when there's nothing to do

I like bicyclists, I really do.  I even like the shitty bicyclists.  I like the ones who don't put any fucking lights on their bicycle and whip around dark corners so that I just about pee my pants.  The next time you see a bicyclist salmoning up the wrong side of the street with that big grin that says "would you believe it?  I'm on TWO WHEELS" take a moment to be glad that you weren't born brain damaged and so can tell your left from your right.

The thing is that the scarier the bicyclist, the more freaked out seizure-esque their progression up the road, the better a job they do of slowing down the more aggressive automobiles.  When that whizzed off Chevy Tundra shrieks past you doing ninety in a 15 mph school zone it's going to be the no-light cell-phone chatting salmon bicyclist it takes out, allowing you to continue safely on your way to work or home or perhaps an important errand.

Kidding kidding.  I don't want anyone getting whacked by a low-end recall plagued jalopy like the Chevy Tundra.  I don't have a lot of love for lame-ass seventeen year old no lights no brakes fixie riders but I'm a mother and there's another mother out there who loves that pimply kid in the overly tight pants with no room for the ass and I don't want to cause her any more pain than she's already been put through already.

Some people say that all bicyclists, no matter how outre their road behaviors help the rest of us out by raising awareness.  I like that.  It's probably even true.  And maybe one day Jerry Lewis will host a telethon to raise monies for clueless bicyclists.  I probably won't live that long but it's possible.

No the reason to give room to terrifying bicyclists who refuse to light their bikes who salmon up the busiest of one-way streets?  No wait, let me improve on that.  Don't just give these bicyclists room, praise them and encourage them.  Love them.  Blow a middle-aged kiss their way.  The bad bicyclist hasn't been born who can do more damage to the world on a bike than he can in a car.  Scary ass monster sized worthless bicyclists do not magically convert to wonderful thoughtful individuals when they get behind the wheel of a 2011 Chevy Tahoe.