Off the seat of a bicycle
Chapter 35  The chicken fly

Possibly you see my interactions with the police; running from them and breaking property law in my younger years, as a person who, by action alone, has disqualified himself from any voice on equal protection. And yes, you are right.

But you should also ask: who except this type of person would have the experience needed to undertake the work of a bicycle activist?

A man needs experience to face social danger. A man with no experience would conform quickly and refuse the defiance that activism requires. So who can best accomplish bicycle activism? The person who sits at a desk all day whistling yankee-dandy, or the ‘errant’ man pounding out cycling miles on the street every day?

In the impending legal fight, I never said anything to my lawyer about equal protection or bicycle rights or any of that bullshit … it would’ve been out of place somehow … and it didn’t matter anyway. He knew the law better than me … but no matter what eggs were on the floor, I was absolutely certain the judge would decide what to do and my lawyer and I were just along for the ride. My lawyer was there to make sure the deal was fair.

The court decided to bundle all 16 traffic cases into one, and the police stopped issuing further summonses.

On the street however, I continued to ride every day and each time a policeman came into view, I hurled a spit to the ground. It was necessary in my mind. It was rude. But I wanted my right to travel free of endangerment by police or public. And I was mad at that mf for tailgating me.

They weren’t going to dismiss my eccentricity with a laugh at the prosecutor’s office. They weren’t going to defend car-culture at the point of a steel bumper. I saw the sex set-ups and outright betrayal of a planted ‘friend’ and the attack on freedom by James and I wasn’t going to take it.

The police attitude was not law enforcement … but what arrogance coming from a petty criminal like me huh? … However, in all frankness, by that time in my life, I was cleaned up and free of drugs and mischief, and had forged that change by my own resolve [oh right lol … after police intervention and a three-day stint in jail ... duh].

Despite my shaky personal reformation, each time I saw a policeman I bent dramatically over and hucked a spit. No policeman was going to jerk the steering wheel of his private car at me again while I walked down the street with my girlfriend. Yeah, I saw that too.

The police saw me spitting, although I wasn’t sure they would.

The proof came with the ‘chicken fly’ … and it was intended to be a funny, and to show the police I was a humorous guy.

One day I was riding without hands down the main road going south. I was on the far right edge of the lane (as usual) and one block ahead, a police car came from a side street and was getting ready to turn north and drive toward me. The two policemen hadn’t seen me yet, and they were enjoying a hearty laugh about something … and this was a personal laugh, not one born of malison.

I quickly turned my head around to check the traffic behind me, and then looked down as I turned forward. The subterfuge was: something on the road was very interesting and that’s why I hadn’t seen the police car.

They were approaching now, but I ‘still hadn’t seen them.’ And then, using a large bump in the road, I suddenly catapulted up off the bicycle seat so I was standing upright on the pedals and began flapping my arms crazy like a chicken, bounced back down to the seat and back up again still flapping my wings … and then sat back down and hucked a spit.

A few days later I mentioned the ‘chicken fly’ to Dan the Informer, and he responded, ‘that was pretty funny,’ which meant they saw it and that they were talking to him, but I said nothing back … I didn’t say much to him, but he said the police ‘weren’t afraid of me.’

I said absolutely nothing about that … that was their decision not mine.

The police weren’t afraid of me huh? They steer their fucking cars at my bicycle, then say they’re not afraid of me? What a bunch of barn roosters that they construe my actions as trying to instill fear in them. But you know something ... that is the total response of car-world to any cyclist who stands up for equal rights. And it's because it takes that kind of face to back car drivers off because the courts will not come out and say anything to protect bike riders from car drivers.

This situation showed a total lack of communication and trust, but moreover how could my ‘friend’ Dan not know who I was? Maybe I was so tight-lipped that nobody knew me. Or maybe they were just trying to find out what my real intent was. I didn’t have any friends besides Dan, but no matter, by that time all I could think was; shit white on ‘em.

A week before the court date, the lawyer called me in and said the judge was going to give me six months in jail. I thought it was unfair, and told the people around me, but it didn’t change my actions on a bike.

Chapter 36) Six month sentence
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