The Hummer Gentleman

While taking photos of the shiny Humvee illegally squatting on the bike lane in front of Sam James Coffee Bar, a gentleman comes out to have words with me. He is wearing a spotless, white Canada Goose jacket and speaks with a charming English accent.

HUMMER GENTLEMAN

Ayo, what you takin’ pictures for?

ME
So that I can mock you on the internet.

HUMMER GENTLEMAN
Why can’t you just live and let live?

ME
What do you mean?

HUMMER GENTLEMAN
You people are always harassing me.

ME
“You people”?

HUMMER GENTLEMAN
You cyclists cut me off all the time.

ME
Who are “you people”?

HUMMER GENTLEMAN
Ah, shuttup.

And then he walks back into Opyni, the art print shop next to the popular espresso bar, on Harbord Street. This is my first interaction with Hummer Gentleman. No, there was no prophesy in his birth name. But we didn’t get a proper introduction.

The words “live and let live” are a trigger for the image of Jenna Morrison, and the unborn child in her stomach, being crushed to death under the wheels of a truck, for no other reason than a simple, legal right turn at an intersection without the safety of a bike lane.

There was no malice in Morrison’s death, other than the failure of transit planning. It’s easy to point the finger at “the war on cars”, a successful political campaign strategy to divide citizens by their choice of transportation. But it’s not fair to lay all cycling woes on this administration. Transportation in Toronto has always been a joke.

I believe Hummer Gentleman is sincere when he asks me to “live and let live”. I think he believes that I, like all cyclists, am hassling him. He’s just asking to be left alone.

Even with my limited powers of empathy, it’s easy to understand how he feels.

Recently I joined the ranks of Toronto drivers. One thing I’ve learned since I got my license, is that DRIVING IS AWESOME.

When you’re in a car, you can go faster, carry more things and music sounds so damn good.

But it’s also a greater responsibility. It can be dangerous, frustrating and often slower than a bike. Though I could afford a car, because I’m rich, cycling and walking are still my mode of transportation.

On a bike, it often seems that every other car on the road is out to kill you, whether through willful ignorance of your presence, or conscious aggression (y’know, for that war we started).

The big surprise in a car is that the vast majority of drivers are good at it. For every jerk who never signals or checks their blind spot, there are ten drivers who are not only aware of what’s going on in the road, but are generous and courteous about conceding the right of way (so long as you don’t take too long).

I love that little wave you get when you concede space to another driver.

Being a veteran cyclist and a novice motorist, I would say that there seems a higher percentage of bad cyclists than bad motorists; those who choose to do foolish, illegal things with their vehicles. But cyclists and motorists combined aren’t as bad as pedestrians. It’s a daily sight in Toronto to see a pedestrian pushing a baby carriage into the road, on a red light, talking on their phone, head turned in the opposite direction.

Every day, during rush hour, someone parks a car in front of James’ business. He’s got a sign out front asking his patrons not to. If they park there, he’ll ask them to move and even refuse them service.

When I have a car for the day, I love to go to Sam’s for a coffee. When I do, I find a parking spot on Manning Street, around the corner, and walk the remaining distance, which takes 30 seconds. There is always a spot on Manning.

The reason I do this is because I don’t believe that my convenience is more important than the safety (and when I say “safety”, I mean legal boundaries that prevent the crushing to death of women and their unborn babies) of other people.

But do we need experience or graphic examples to employ empathy?

I believe that being a cyclist makes me a better driver. And having learned to drive has made me a better cyclist.

Or to put it another way, using both types of vehicles prevents me from being a selfish prat.

As I leave the coffee bar to fetch my bike, Hummer Gentleman exits Opyni to have another discussion with me.

HUMMER GENTLEMAN
How’d you like it if I took pictures of you and your yappin’ dog?

ME
Excuse me?

HUMMER GENTLEMAN
You. Should I be taking pictures of you with your yapping dog?

ME
What dog?

HUMMER GENTLEMAN
You tied your dog up outside here and it wouldn’t stop barking.

ME
You’re mistaken. I don’t have a dog. (NOTE: Dogs, like cars, are awesome)

HUMMER GENTLEMAN
Oh.

He throws up his arms and walks back into Opyni.

ME

Merry Christmas!

BREAKING: Sam James' neighbours, Speakeasy Tattoo, have a priceless blog called http://lookattheassholeinthebikelane.tumblr.com/