Misplaced Anger

I was finishing up a ride a couple of days ago, just an easy leg tester. I pinched the capsule in my right hip running Tuesday night, which by the way is very uncomfortable. So a couple of days later I went for a short ride to see if I could. I knew I couldn’t walk very well, but with the limited range of motion in cycling I wanted to see. It actually wasn’t great, still hurt quite a bit, but this isn’t where I’m going here.

I’ve had some interesting experiences with cars while on my bike over the years. I’ve been hit by side-view mirrors, had soft drinks and other garbage thrown at me, been cut off and driven off the road. But this was a new first.

As I was riding back to the home of the world’s strongest man, a black 10 or 12 year old Mercedes did a quick u-turn after passing me going the other way. I thought how nice of them to avoid hitting me. So with a big smile on my face, I waved. As I was waving I noticed the driver was pointing a gun at me. I kept smiling and waving, and mouthing the words, thank you, thanks. He lowered the gun and continued to drive off.

I thought to myself, that was interesting. I wonder what had happened, that this man felt like pointing a gun at me. I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with me riding by on the other side of the street, and his gun was already pointing at me when I was thinking, thanks for not killing me, as I waved. I didn’t think for a moment this could be Don Cherry, a sub-moron from Hockey Night in Canada, who recently declared his hatred of cyclists, or that old white idiot from PTI, Kornheiser, who says he wants to run over all cyclist in DC. (Just an aside – why are these people still on TV?)

It all happened so quickly I didn’t really have a chance to do or feel anything in the moment. It just happened. Or nothing happened really.

My wife experienced something similar while riding in Albuquerque last spring. She was riding under and overpass and there was a young tattooed man walking in the same direction as her. Just as she was about to pass him he turned quickly, pulled a revolver from his low riding baggy trousers and pointed it at her. Like me, there wasn’t time to react, so she just carried on. But afterwards she was quite shaken, understandably so.

I have no point here, just relaying an incident from my life I don’t really understand. Maybe it goes back to my Tough post a few weeks ago. Why is it so important to some people to be considered bad-asses? I understand that respect in almost all cases has to be earned, but not for life.

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