Friday, July 31, 2009

Critical Mass just passed the shop's front door, bells ringing. About twelve minutes of traffic silence, broken only by some middle-aged dumbass shouting "Assholes!" from the sidewalk, and the whap-whap-whap of a news chopper hovering high overhead. I saw young cyclists, old cyclists, men and women of every color and sexual preference, some friends and store customers among them.

I like Critical Mass a lot; it looks like democracy to me.

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