Much of my childhood was spent in the small town of Lebanon, population 29,000, I guess. Much the same size as Moscow (Idaho, that is). Now imagine a town that size being flooded with 14,000 college kiddos every last week of August. This small, peaceful, quiet hometown now has a pest problem. Hundreds of them ride their bicycles illegally all over the place, like the sidewalks. I now understand why there are jaywalking laws. Not for the occasional efficiency of taking the shortest route, but rather for situations like this. But in a town of 25,000 citizens, 10,000 jaywalkers is unenforceable. So are the bicycle laws.
I don’t know how many students are killed or seriously injured from their ignorant transportation means here, but I am surprised it is not an epidemic. Rightfully, logically, there should be at least two or three deaths a day due to stupid bicyclists flying down the sidewalks across blind alleys and side streets, and being sideswiped. A double dose of guardian angels must be deployed here at the start of school year.
If the police department here were struggling financially, they could make a killing by issuing $15 citations for those breaking the bicycle laws every which way. And should the policeman be asked, “Don’t you have anything better to do?”, the truthful answer would be, “No.” There’s nothing really going on in a town of 25,000.
I was sitting at a stop light preparing to turn right. When the light turned green I had to wait for this “bicyclist” who was pretending to be a pedestrian. Yep, she was waiting to ride her bicycle across the crosswalk when the sign said “Walk.” So I had to wait. It took her several tries to find the pedals, and when she finally got going she had a hard time keeping things in control. The handle bars and front tire wobbled back and forth as she proceeded at less than 1 mph. It was impressive. I didn’t know you could go that slow.
It must be a status thing to have a bike. Or a fad, or whatever. In a town this small, you don’t need a bike. You can walk from here to there in no time at all, and that would be faster for those who don’t know how to ride a bike but try to anyway.
I’ve always been anti-bike on the roads, but this place is helping to cement my bitter sentiments. Yes, if I were Governor I’d try to push for legislation that prohibited bikes on roads without a clear and designated bike lane. I think it would be high on my agenda, and the “green” folks wouldn’t like it. But that would be half the fun.
We’ve had a hec of a time figuring out how to grill tri-tip perfectly. Finally, it all came together tonight. I grilled this 2″ (at least) thick piece of meat perfectly, and as you can tell, I’m proud of it. It’s taken me long enough. I charred the outside to a beautiful crisp crust, and left the middle perfectly medium rare. The cell phone picture probably doesn’t do that part justice, but trust me, this was perfection. Finally.
I’ve just reread one of my top five favorite books of all time. A must read, as Buechner poetically and graciously takes you down, reminding you again that you are human. Or in other words, a sinner. Tragedy of every sort is inevitable in this world, but preposterous grace enters into this world in such a way that it could be anything but inevitable. So much so that one can only laugh at God and with God at how He rains it down. And then the fairy tale of it all – too good to be true, but it is. Buechner’s primary audience in this book is the preacher of the Gospel, but any person who wants to understand grace better should buy this book. You will burn through this book time and again.
