Cash for Cooters
I have my own office cooters, of course, but I think of them in conjunction with, oh, the Spanish Inquisition, pliers, blow torches, and the never ending hell of television game shows.
We cyclists have our own version of cooters, too. They're often the ride nanny, the one who yells, "Car back!" in ascending tones when riders ignore him, until only local dogs can hear his squeaky voice. They get genuinely angry when their authority isn't heeded, and heaven forfend one of us should question them or even exhibit any intelligence or reason.
One local club insists that everyone participating in their ride must sign a liability waiver. My thought was that if they're not planning to do something genuinely stupid or illegal, it's not necessary. They also insist that everyone wear a helmet, despite the absence of a mandatory helmet law in Oklahoma. There was some serious tut-tutting going on when two guys rode sans helmets. But these rides take place on public roads, so unless they're shoved aside bodily, there's no way to stop them.
Labels: bicycling humor