The author is trying to trick you into taking your bike out too early in the season so he can see you take a spill like this gentleman. The author is kind of a dick.
I don’t want to jinx anything, but I think this may really be Spring. Your car is no longer doing its best imitation of Ted Williams’ head every morning, forcing you to hack at its windshield like O.J. with a white woman every day before work. The dirty mountains of snow accumulated in parking lots and on street corners have finally melted. The bold among us are wearing flip-flops, cargo shorts, and tanktops — a little early maybe, but God bless ‘em. Bums have made the seasonal shift from Jim Beam to Colt .45. I think I heard a bird chirp yesterday. To any Clevelander, these signs make it clear—we have five months to enjoy life before misery returns. …
This article appears in Apr 9-15, 2008.