smorg

…story at 11

When the news crews come to talk to you about me (and they WILL come, eventually) I don’t want you to tell them I was a quiet loner, nor do I want you to blame it on medications, environment or hereditary traits.

I want you to point them to this post.

I want them to see that it is the idiocy of the world around me that led me to:
a) climb the clock tower
b) strap on the dynamite vest
c) hijack a cruise ship and crash it into Disneyworld

This morning started normally enough…I left home at around 8am, as per usual. My commute to work is about 45 minutes…a nice quiet drive through the country that only sees traffic near the end. It’s a good route that allows me time to contemplate life, the universe and everything. On occasion, I get stuck behind one of the numerous dump trucks or semis that traverse the road, but I can usually find a decent place to pass them or they turn off.

But not today, no. For on this morning, someone decided that it would be a good idea to have a bicycle road race over a 20 mile stretch of fairly busy road that connects the GA mountains to civilization (ie: Interstate 400). This gave me the rare opportunity to profanely question the parentage of the deities of most of the worlds major religions.

Yes, that’s right. During what is normal commute time for hundreds of people who use that road to get to work in the city, there were dozens of unemployed, shiftless hippies riding their $700 bikes in the middle of the road. I could smell the patchouli despite my windows being rolled up.

Not only were they in the middle of the road, but they were riding beside each other in many cases, thus occupying the entire lane, meaning that passing was nearly impossible and quite dangerous.

So for about 18 miles I was behind a row of cars, trucks, tractors (yes, tractors) and about 4 billion bicycles. No one could pass, the bikers wouldn’t move and had no interest at all in pulling over to let the cars by.

Many of them wear wearing shirts that said ‘Share the Road’. Sadly, they chose to not follow their own advice. And to add to the fun: it was raining. Want to make it worse? Some of the bikers had 2 or 3 sets of pedals on their bikes and had their small children strapped on with them.

It’s one thing to risk your own life by riding with traffic on a busy stretch of winding country roads in the rain, but to put your child in that situation is beyond reason.

Anyway, while I was sitting in traffic, watching the bikers cruise by at a racy 15mph, I managed to snap a few pictures with my crappy camera-phone. They are below…you can tell because they are images as opposed to text, like this paragraph.

So, in closing, I would like to remind the ladies and gentlemen of the jury that it wasn’t my fault that I drove over 27 people and their fancy bicycles. And then backed up and made a second pass. Then a third.

No, the fault lies with whichever nitwit organized this hell-fest. Please have mercy on my soul and put his on a bicycle in the middle lane of GA 400 at 7:45am on a Wednesday.