The title is borrowed from my wife's language: I treat you as you treat me. It sort of sounds vaguely veiled payback, and that pretty much captures my sense at this moment. We've all seen 'em. I think at one time I may have had one on my bumper, some variant of 'Share the Road with Motorcycles.' I do what I can, when I can; leben und leben lassen. Warum nicht?
Driving yesterday, I'm heading towards the Pequot Bridge keeping up with the flow of traffic as the intersection widens to three lanes at the light and two of the lanes make a left to go over the bridge towards the back entrance to the Mohegan Sun or to access 395 North or South.
I heard him before I saw him, a motorcyclist with NO helmet, no leathers, just wraparound shades (the rain had momentarily stopped in Southeastern Connecticut) in the right-hand lane.
The guy weaved around to pass on his right the truck in front of him, cut behind the car in front of the truck so he could ride between that guy and my car, accelerating as he came alongside and then darted quickly to his left as his rear tire was parallel to my right front.
He's not in front of me for long as he speeds up, I love that throttle action and wonder what else he uses his right hand for (does explain the gloves, I guess) and then he slides between the car in front of me.
In a flash, he's gone and I hope safely to wherever he's going. Meanwhile, I'm alone in my prison on the road trying to sort out why worrying about motorcycles and safety don't seem to be as much of a priority for those who ride them as they'd like the rest of us to have.
I don't ride a motorcycle but I think my car driver's rule works as well for two wheels as it does for my four. It's NOT my skill or ability on the road that I worry about; it's the other guys/gals and as nice as the bikes are, none of them are a match one-to-one with even a beater. And what's the point of saving fifteen seconds of travel time if you risk being dead forever?
-bill kenny
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