Day 3: Notes from the saddle

On the road

I'm riding my bicycle down 3rd Street on my way to the bike path when a guy in a red pickup pulls up beside me. He rolls down his window. Uh oh, I think. Another guy in a pickup. What advice does this one want to yell at me? Fucking mansplainers are everywhere.

There's something about men in pickups. They like to talk to me when I'm riding on the road -- and I mean just the men in pickups. Never the ones in cars. I had just posted this on my Facebook feed a few days before: 

One for the 'I can't win no matter what I do' column. Riding my bike on 3rd St, totally legal. In the middle lane so I could continue straight at the light. Some guy in a white pickup came up as close as he could beside me on the right and yelled, 'Get on the sidewalk, dummy!' 'Fuck right off,' I replied, although he probably didn't hear me over the gunning of his big, exhaust-belching engine. At the light 75 yards ahead where he had to stop, I intended to offer to let him pay my ticket when I get one for riding on the sidewalk, which is illegal and have you seen the sidewalks on the East Side? Holy shit, I might as well walk. As soon as I pulled up beside him at the light -- yeah, see where your big hurry got you, big guy? -- he turned right on the red even though he didn't have a clear distance to turn in front of the cars with the green. I guess he felt safer roaring away from me into traffic than he did sitting right beside me. Some people can't handle a redhead, that's for damn sure.

They aren't always unpleasant, these men. They are always men though, and they always make me wary. At another stop light one evening a guy in the lane beside me rolled down his window and looked over at me. There were 2 or 3 other men in the cab of the pickup with him. He smiled and said, "Hi there." I said, "Hi," and then I looked straight ahead. When the light turned green he said in a louder voice, "Hey!" I looked over. "Be careful now, will you?" he said. "I will," I replied and I finally smiled back.

Another evening on the same street as I waited at yet another light, again in the middle of the street in the left turn lane, a guy in a pickup going the other direction kept motioning something with his hand. I tried not to look like I was looking, but I finally figured out he was doing the "call me" sign, knocking his hand against the side of his head with his thumb and pinkie sticking out. He was still doing it as he roared by and I started pedaling toward the river. I had to laugh. He was all of 30 years old. A helmet and sunglasses hide a lot of decades years apparently.

Back to the guy in the red pickup. I'd noticed he got caught behind me a block earlier. That tends to piss some people off, even if I'm going about as fast at the downtown traffic. When he pulled up beside me and rolled down his window, I was ready for ... well, for whatever.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure." Usually when somebody asks me that I add, "as long as you're not asking for money." Saves time. I didn't expect a guy in a pickup to panhandle me though.
"Do you know where Don's Pawn Shop is? Am I close?"
Whew. "Yeah, it's about 2 blocks up the street, on your right. There's usually parking in front."
"Thanks. On the right. Got it."
The light turned green. I got up on my pedals.
"Hey!"
I looked over at him.
"Be careful now, will you?"
"I will. Bye." I turned, and he went straight to Don's Pawn Shop. Another guy. Another pickup. I hope he's careful too. People on bikes are a lot smaller than he is.

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I've noticed something weird about cars that pass in the lane next to me. A significant number of them get closer to me as they pass instead of moving further away like you'd expect. I mean close enough that they're often on or over the line. And then, after they've passed me, they move back toward the center of the lane. What's up with that? And it's not just men in pickup trucks, although they tend to be guilty as well.

I suspect they're doing that thing where they turn the steering wheel in the same direction they're looking. My ex used to do that and it drove me crazy. I tried not to do anything that would make him look over at me because I was afraid we'd soon be rolling over in a ditch. What the actual fuck? Either look straight ahead or learn to do two things at once.

I won't even get started on assholes people who go around me in the same lane. Some observe the 3-foot rule, which is still ridiculously close. Others go way out around. And then there are those who pass so close I can tell what they ate for lunch by the smell of the farts wafting out of their cars.

On the path

The bike path going south from downtown was closed for several years (4? 5?) because of construction on the interstate and in the river. A few weeks ago the highway construction ended and the bike path was re-opened as well, so I decided to take the path south .... along with about 300 walkers, mostly people who work downtown.

Pedestrians make me nervous. I try not to give them nasty surprises. I yell out, "On your left!" as I come up on them. Or sometimes, "On your right!" if they don't know which side of the path to walk on. Or, "I'm coming through. Right or left, you choose!" And a few times, "Down the middle, fucktards!" for those people who walk together, but on either side of the path. There are more than you'd think.

Sometimes they hear me. Often if they're walking alone they've got earbuds in and don't look up until they feel my breeze. I don't get that. If I were walking alone along the river or on a path in the woods, I would want to hear any other creatures who might be sharing the nature with me, including bicycles going anywhere from 10-23 mph. But that's just me. I'm a little high-strung, like most people with vaginas.

Between the walkers and the Canada geese, I did a lot of slowing down until I got out past downtown. The geese will move over if I hiss at them. The walkers, like I said, are not so aware that others share the path with them.

And then there's the ragweed. I know I said that in a post last month. And I even shared this photo. I don't care. The fucking ragweed is going to be the death of me. The nicer the weather gets, the shittier I feel and it's all because of those weeds up there in that photo and others like them. To be fair, this was the only place on the path that was so overgrown, but still. I was glad I was on my bike so I only had to hold my breath for about 15 seconds.

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And then there were the Hillary Clinton signs. As I passed by the Viet Nam Veterans Memorial, I saw the big city trash receptacles were filled and overflowing with Hillary Clinton signs. I tried to take a photo, but my camera sucked my battery dry and still didn't get the shot. Hard to call it a smart phone sometimes.

Same with the people who stole those signs and stuffed them into the trash bins. Stupid assholes. If you don't want to be called deplorable, don't steal from other people's yards.

My friend Jay asked his Facebook friends the other day if they were reluctant to put Clinton/Kaine signs in their front yards and bumper stickers on their cars, because he knows a lot more people who intend to vote for them than are showing it. Most of the people who answered said, "Hell, yes, I'm afraid to put them out. Trump's supporters scare me." It took me a while, but I finally put a sign in my yard. I'm the only one on my street with any political sign at all. I put mine behind my wrought iron fence.

One friend said as soon as she put a Clinton bumper sticker on her car, somebody keyed her car and bad. Not just one scratch, but several gouges. I had my bumper sticker on the console in my van for almost a month before I stuck it on, right next to my 2 Obama stickers from 2008 and 2012. So far nobody has fucked with my van. Fingers crossed.

Once I clear the city, I can gear down and go faster. I love that feeling. On fall days, I pass only a few other cyclists. A lot of people put their bikes away with their white shoes after Labor Day. I enjoy the isolation, and I'm not afraid because I feel fairly safe going 16 or 17 mph. Of course, I never feel entirely safe, because I'm a woman, but I feel safer than I do walking my dog in my neighborhood or going to karaoke. It only takes one roofie to kill the fun times for a while.

On my bike though, I just ride. I know that feeling strong and fast won't really protect me if the time comes when somebody does want to harm me, or even if I hit a walnut just wrong and my tire slides out from under me and I go down. Still, it's one of the few times in my life when I can let go and just feel my body working hard, my tires rolling, the air around me in motion, the river flowing beside me. For just a couple of hours, I almost feel free.

(All photos copyright Reticulated Writer)

Day 28: Deal me in

I'll get back to writing about something else tomorrow night, I promise. I spent the past few nights watching the DNC, in case you couldn't tell. This night I spent obnoxiously posting the juiciest bits of Hillary Clinton's acceptance speech on Facebook. Even I can hardly believe I paid a senior $5 to get drunk and do my outside-of-class practice typing when I was in high school so I could go to basketball practice. I'm a modern miracle I type so fast now. (Is it still called typing even though it's not on a typewriter?) I digress.

I had to watch, because history was being made. And that really matters to me. And also, even though I know I was drinking the kool-aid, the kool-aid tasted delicious to me! And that matters to me too, because I can get cynical at times. The speeches made me feel hopeful. I'm not even sorry about all the kool-aid I drank. Burp.

And the other thing that matters to me is getting some sleep, so I can go to work tomorrow and stand on a concrete floor for a few hours and try to avoid the woman who works next to me and who thinks Obama, and really all black people, are .... Ugh. I can't go into it. I just want to avoid talking to her.

Before I retire though, I do want to share what I consider the most important of those quotations from HRC's speech with you. I mean, it's important if you think the survival of the human race is important, and I realize some of you may be cynical and fed-up enough that you're not sure. I only have to look at the precious face of my granddaughter to know that I am sure. So here are the words. 

"A man you can bait with a tweet is not a man you can trust with nuclear weapons."

I made it big, because it's absolutely the most important thing that came out of what I considered to be a fine and inspiring speech. If there is any man in this country who should not have his finger on the button of a nuclear weapon, it's Donald Trump. Many things are important. One thing could destroy this planet as we know it.

Don't worry. I have more to say about vaginas before the month is over. And I owe 2 extra posts for the week I was celebrating my birthday. After tonight, we're back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Day 23: Just shut up

Do you want to see what misogyny looks like? I copied this from a friend's Facebook after he posted a hilarious comparison of Donald Trump with a lonely chimp playing with his own turd. One of his friends commented, "I'd vote for the turd before I voted for a cackling, sneaking, lying, duty neglecting, elitist, wolf-titted, she-bitch."

I don't think he meant Jill Stein.

He meant, of course, Hillary Clinton. I see shit like that every day on Facebook, especially in the comments of posts where people dare to say they support Clinton, like my friend did. It's like a slap in the face every single fucking time I see something like it. My stomach clenches. My skin crawls. My temper flares. It's verbal violence, and verbal violence is often followed by the threat of physical violence. Especially when that verbal violence is toward a woman who has stepped out of her place in the world and dared to climb too high. It's not just Hillary Clinton. It's any woman who takes a place in the world that belongs to men. But right now it's open season on her, and anything goes.

Don't believe me? Ted Cruz said this about Hillary Clinton: “I’ll tell you in my house, if my daughter Catherine, the 5-year old, says something that she knows to be false, she gets a spanking. Well in America the voters have a way of administering a spanking.” Bad enough the image of him hitting his 5-year-old daughter, who will simply learn to lie better, but he's also insinuating that Hillary Clinton deserves a spanking like an unruly child. Hillary Clinton, who has been shown by a respected journalist to be the most honest of the candidates, including fucking Ted Cruz. Bend over, Ted.

New Jersey governor Chris Christie said, “I’ll beat her rear end on that stage and afterward she’ll be relieved that I didn’t serve her with a subpoena.” Not "I'll kick her butt," which I could have tolerated, but "I'll beat her rear end." Where is our national safe word?

These are men who wanted to become the president of the most powerful nation in the world, and this is how they talk about their female opponent, a former US senator and Secretary of State? I haven't been able to find any examples of infantalized violent talk toward any of the male candidates, because it doesn't exist. Although this does.



I'm constantly telling myself I need to get off Facebook. I feel like I have sand under my skin from the open hatred, the derision, the perpetuation of lies, the total lack of rhetoric skills. Somehow people like that guy up there in the first paragraph have forgotten they're talking to friends in a public space with a megaphone. We can hear you. All of you. We hear you, and it's a cacophony of woman-hatred that reminds me, as a woman, that I'm fair game any time I stick my head out of my shell and piss off the guys. As if that hasn't been pounded into me all my life.

Not that Facebook has a lock on it. The misogyny is even worse on Twitter, Reddit (dare to find a Red Pill thread), and the addictive Straight White Boys Texting. But I can avoid those sites. I can't avoid it when it's coming at me on Facebook from my friends' friends, or even worse, from my friends. What used to be a place to keep up with people's lives and send out invitations has become a place where people feel anonymous enough to flaunt their true colors .... and often their color is that ugly shade of greenish brown that is nobody's favorite color.

I'm sick of it. I tell myself I need to ween off Facebook, because it's only going to get worse. And yet then I would miss the rare intelligent discourse that happens there. And I'd miss the personal posts, about pets dying, babies being born, about dealing with a parent with Alzheimer's or about a friend's adventure on the bike trail. I resent that social media has become one more place where men can spank women who get out of line. Like we need more of that shit.

Here's my suggestion. Start deleting. Send a message to guys like that one up there that we don't want to see that shit. If he can come up with a reasonable, well supported argument for whatever he's trying to say, let him talk. If he's only interested in spouting his woman-hating mouth-shit, then take away his forum, because you damn sure aren't going to change someone like him. You could keep that shit away from my eyes though.

And what the hell does "wolf-titted" mean anyway? Was that supposed to be clever?


Note: When I googled images for "shut up," more than 80% of the images were of men saying some version of "shut up," often with the word "bitch" attached. Shut up, bitch. Google also offers options for narrowing the search to "shut up woman," some of which were pretty vile, or "shut up mom," but not "shut up man" or "shut up dad." Just noting a fact.

Note: If you prefer videos, watch this video from Blue Nation Review, which of course comes with an agenda. It's propaganda. Don't think I don't know it. But it's still scary.