News: April 2007 Archives

In case you aren't familiar with Critical Mass, it is a protest held in San Francisco (and various other cities around the globe) where hundreds of bicyclists get together to block the streets to motor traffic. I've been caught in it twice, and was incredibly disappointed by my fellow San Franciscans. They are screaming obscenities, banging on car windows, and just about anything else you can think of that is annoying.

During the March ride, one threw a bicycle through the rear window of a mini-van driven by a suburban Mom taking her kids to a birthday party. The sad news is, the person will likely not even get prosecuted. But our philandering mayor Gavin Newsom vows to take "a good look" at the problem. There are more details in this SF Chronicle article - but it just irritates me to read it. Seriously, I'm getting a headache from rolling my eyes.

To be honest, I'm not even sure the point of Critical Mass. Is it to make a statement against the pollution caused by cars, or against so-called "inconsiderate" drivers? I guess it doesn't really matter because it doesn't effectively do either. Forcing cars to sit and idle while waiting for the parade of obnoxious whiners rides by isn't any better for the air than just letting drivers go on their way. I've never met anyone who decided not to commute for a day because they were so moved by this ridiculous demonstration. News flash: San Francisco is a city of commuters. Hundreds of thousands of people do it every day and you congregating and acting like jack-asses once a month won't change that. Get real, and get a life.

The cyclists bitch about being ignored by drivers. The day I see a cyclist actually obey traffic laws, I'll be so shocked I won't be able to ignore it. They don't stop for red lights, don't use bike lanes when they're provided, and fail to yield when turning. They make traffic problems worse, and cause accidents all the time. So my answer to their complaints about unsafe drivers is this: get off the road.

When these people moved to the city (or chose to stay here), what were they imagining the commute to be like? Rolling hills, quiet nature sounds, watching the sunrise/sunset, and enjoying the crisp air? They have that very close by, you know...in the places we are all commuting to/from.

Taxi drivers in this city are some of the craziest people and most dangerous drivers I've ever seen (no offense). They break traffic laws, speed through crowded streets, and just aren't courteous on the road. But you learn to deal with it, and drive defensively. If you're heading down a street at 30mph and see a taxi that looks like it might want to turn (they don't use blinkers so you have to develop a special taxi esp to tell what they're going to do), you have to prepare to slam on the brakes and deal with it. They don't care, it's not their car. Once I was in a taxi that made a noticeable dent in a parked car and drove on as if he didn't notice. I asked him if he noticed, and his reply was "it's ok."

But this rant is not about taxi drivers, it's about bicyclists. Just like I have had to learn to drive amongst the crazy taxis, drunk pedestrians/homeless people wandering into crowded intersections, last-minute double parkers, illegal lane changers and u-turners; they need to learn to ride among drivers whose main priority isn't yielding to annoying cyclists.

I hate driving in this city, I'll admit. But I know that before I even get to my car that I park 4 blocks away from my house because I can't find a closer spot. I'm not going to waste my energy trying to piss people off and make a spectacle of myself. I'm not going to take out my frustration on a family in a mini-van. I'm not going to perpetuate the stereotypes and bad attitudes that already exist about people like me (in my case, female drivers :). I'll just take the bus, thank you very much.

And on the bus, I get the pleasure of trying to balance in my high heels while holding my laptop bag, purse, and whatever tiny sliver of handrail I can manage to squeeze in between the grimy hands of fellow passengers. I get to take in the glorious smells of body odor, urine, old lady perfume to the 10th power, and morning breath. Once my stop finally arrives I'll get to revel in the joy of pushing past all the other jerks who hate their morning bus ride too, so that I can stumble out the back door just in time to be cut off by a damn bicyclist. But guess what: there's no use complaining because if I didn't like it, I could just always ride a bike.

I apologize for offending any of my friends who participate in Critical Mass with this post. If so, please contact me so that we can re-evaluate our friendship.