I do a lot of cycling, but not as sport.  I have found it's about the best way, weather permitting, to get around Boston, Cambridge, and Somerville.  Cheaper and often faster than a car, bus, or even the T (I know: can you believe it?).  I commute to work, go to the grocery store, and generally get around by bike more out of common sense than concern for my carbon footprint. 

I have never felt that this necessitated wearing lycra unitards, neon jerseys, or expensive sunglasses.  Sometimes I don't even wear a helmet.  I do not ride because I have something to prove.  I ride because I have somewhere to be, I don't like sitting in traffic, and the parking is free.

I'll admit to bending the rules at times, but only when no one is looking.  I usually don't have to, to tell the truth.  I avoid mixed traffic whenever I can.  I take the Charles River bike path almost daily, staying to the right, and trying not to think evil thoughts when pedestrians or joggers block the path, or mad-max spandex-clad bike warriors blow past without warning.

When I can't avoid riding in traffic, I somehow manage never — knock wood — to get spit on, run off the road, shouted at, or shoved by passing motorists.  No one has ever launched a missile at me from their vehicle.  In fact, twice yesterday when I was out people shouted "sorry!" after me when I had to swerve to avoid them getting out of their cars at the curb.  Because I was not under the illusion that Mass Ave. is an Olympic velodrome, these were not even close calls.

None of which is to say that I have not been cut off in traffic, as motorists often are, or that I have not met my share of drivers with anger management issues.  Because I am not laboring under any illusions about the nature of Boston's motorists, who routinely rank in the top five for road rage in the nation, I don't expect special treatment.  Again, I have nothing to prove.  Just want to get to where I'm going in one piece.

I have also seen cyclists — those very serious cyclists, especially — behaving very badly. And so it was with some skepticism that I read a screed in The Globe yesterday under the headline "If only drivers would share the road, bicycling would be safer".  If only.  The two saddest words in the world. 

If only Sunnis and Shiites would just get along!  If only Palestinians and Jews would stop their bickering!  If only the Hutus would stop hacking Tutsis to bits.  Albert Einstein: "If only I had known, I should have become a watchmaker."  Yes, if only.

A better solution than "if only" for the war of all against all on our streets might be... smarter streets.  Something, thankfully, some in our fair city are shooting for, instead of (or in addition to) whinging and whining about Massholes running them off the road.  I mean, birds fly, fish swim.  It's what Massholes do. 

Truth is, every motorist has stories of cyclists and pedestrians behaving badly, just as cyclists and pedestrians have an endless store of tales impugning motorists and each other.  But what was interesting to me about the article in the Globe was the author's rampant stereotyping (which is still stereotyping, even when prefaced with the fake-out "Not to stereotype" disclaimer).  It isn't merely motorists behaving badly, it's  the Culture War on Wheels.  It's rednecks versus bluenecks. 

The author and her friends (one of whom, Dave, was apparently recently crowned "The Nicest Guy in The World") are...

out there obeying the rules, getting exercise, and saving gasoline. We've ridden in charity rides that benefit cancer, mental retardation, poor children, multiple sclerosis, and myriad other causes. We stay on the far right side of the lane. We never blow through traffic lights or stop signs. We're cautious because we know that you're out there in mega-ton vehicles, any one of which could flatten us in an instant.

She and her friends are virtually without sin, each one a Mother Teresa on wheels, in a world of inexplicable, mega-ton evil.  Wherever they go she and her friends get "spit on, cursed at, side-swiped, and pushed."  People throw lit cigarettes, coffee, and full water bottles at them.  Yikes.  Maybe they should stay indoors.

While I don't doubt these sorts of things go on, I'm not sure it rises to the level of martyrdom.  Why is the author so insistent to equate cycling with sanctity and motoring with moral evil?  I mean, beyond the activities themselves.  It's not just evil to drive, it's evil people who drive.  But I have a hunch many motorists also give to charities; walk, run and cycle for a cause; and obey the rules (although I doubt anyone could do so as religiously as the author and her friends). 

I get the distinct feeling reading the piece that the author not only divides dangerous drivers into two categories: "angry or stupid," but sees everybody outside of her tribe that way as well.  To be fair, she says, cyclists can be stupid, too.  "About the stupidest thing I've seen," she reports, "are bikers without helmets."  To protect them from other people's stupidity, of course. 

It's definitely a jungle out there.  Many of the incidents the author reports happen on rural roads, which I don't ride on.  I'm sure she's right that there are plenty of motorists out there that don't like the idea of sharing the road with cyclists, but they likely don't like sharing it with anyone. 

Educating all who use the roads is certainly an admirable goal.  Exhortations to "share the road!"  are helpful in reminding motorists that cyclists have a right to their slice of it.  But I'm not sure how persuasive "share the road, you stupid, angry, morally inferior masshole!" is gonna be.  Could work, I guess. 

To her credit, the author invites massholes to share.  She asks her mega-ton tormentors, "Why are you so angry?" But it sounds less like a question to me than an accusation.  "Why so angry?" doesn't mean, "why so angry now?" or "about...?" It implies a congenital condition.  You'd expect an answer like, "My mother had anger, too."

If you ask someone "why are you so stupid?" I think it's obvious you're expecting a stupid answer.  "Why so angry?" is the same sort of question.  It's supposed to elicit more anger.  It's not really a question.  It's a taunt.  The person asking is not really making a useful observation about a mood or moment of emotion, but is attempting to make a broad judgment about the character of the individual in question.

The conclusion of the article affirms the need for all to share the road.  But it's in equating cycling for sport with moral superiority that the author runs off of it.  People who ride for sport are no more divine than people who play softball or scuba dive.  It's only — only — those who bicycle commute who are morally superior.  I just wish you angry spandex-clad sport-cyclists could get that through your thick heads.