I mean, the whole “green” thing was hot last year. It’s hotter this year. Like a lot of people, I was worried that it was just a fad. That the fixie crowd would ditch their bikes, that organic food would dwindle again, that hybrids would get fewer and uglier. But it seems like it’s either a long-living fad or becoming the norm.

My initial concern is that I’m losing some cool factor. Recycling and buying recycled goods are getting mainstream enough that I’m not that awesome for wearing a recycled steel necklace and junk. Lots of people in Baltimore brave the traffic and the hills to cycle now. But this is something I’m happy about. I mean, “the more, the merrier” applies here as much as it possibly can. With my windows open on University Parkway, I constantly hear freehubs and old freewheels clicking by. I want to cheer everyone on, but there are too many. So I stick to yelling at joggers who ignore the empty sidwalk to run in bike lanes.

My other concern is that we’re all going to half-ass any green efforts. Ooooh, there are some recycled Coke bottles in my shirt. BFD — what are your jeans made of? Too much of the green craze revolves around buying shit, which is largely how we started messing up the planet so much anyway — material showing-off. [My TV is on because I wanted to hear a weather report and not get too into NPR to do what I need to do this morning. Ed Norton just said that plastic bags are the stupidest things we are doing. Hey, dude. Yeah, you. Heard of cars?] I know; I do that, too. I’m just saying. Driving a big SUV pretty much cancels out most of what else you do for the planet, doesn’t it? I mean, seriously, look at how much of your carbon footprint your car is, even hybrids, which are made of the same junk as any other car before you even buy them.

Off my high-horse now because everyone I know has a car. So at least I retain some of my awesomeness, being the only (aside from my wife, of course) intentionally car-free person I currently hang out with or am related to. [Though Mr. D has gone mad car-light with The Mule and pedals around town constantly.] And I don’t pretend that environmental issues are the only reason I went car-free, either. A large part of that decision was my own neuroses.

I don’t mean to insult anyone, and I totally get some bummed rides all the time. Don’t send me hatemail because you love your car. I realize that my bike was made overseas, that my pedals, lock and tools are covered in vinyl, that the metal and plastic on The Duke didn’t grow on trees. I know my own shortcomings, too, like non-recycled, imported notebooks, my fleeting weakness for French bubbly water, my Tevas, my fondness for cheap pens in spite of my collection of Goodkinds, my failure to remember travel mugs, etc. Very verily etc.

But I’m not the only one with a long way to go.

I really like using the cargo rack on my bike. My frame does not have the holes for the top attachments (the 2005 and the 2007 both do, but mine’s the 2006), but I got it on in a sturdy fashion with the aid of something a biking friend of mine sent me, some electrical tape, and patience. I use my rack whenever I can. So when I had to take a stack of boxes to the post office last week, I was stoked. I rolled up with four packages, paid less than five bucks and left with an empty rack.

Sometimes, with large loads, I get stares and weird looks. I think it’s funny. I could not sit on my seat, though, with that many boxes, and it hurt my knees for the mile up to the post office. Then I got from the post office in Roland Park (near Eddie’s) down to Charles Village to have Mexican food for lunch with Mrs. P in ten minutes flat. Which rendered my pinkies numb, despite my sweet new cycling gloves that I got for Christmas. But I was in a good mood for all the errands, all of which were made more fun on two wheels. I remember what a chore going to the post office in the Dale was. I enjoy it now.

Take the stupid bitch we have all heard about recently who killed a cyclist, apparently on purpose(?), while drunk behind the wheel. She was driving on a suspended license from getting caught driving shit-faced before. Wtf? Yeah, I would apologize for my nasty language, if you could tell me a better term for this, this thing.

See also the hag bitch whose car killed the police officer here in Baltimore on New Year’s Eve. It’s still not clear if she was driving(?), but why the hell did she still have possession of her car? She was arrested for not showing up in court for a drunk driving charge after the death of the police officer. They should have taken her car away when they caught her drunk driving, no? They should have gone looking for her when she didn’t show up for court. What is the lesson? That you can drive drunk in Baltimore, not show up for your court date, and you can just go about your business — unless someone kills a police officer with your car, at which time they will drag you out of your house, cameras filming your old saggies falling out of your shirt and your fried hair blowing in freakishly warm January air?

I would give up all the nice new bike lanes we are getting in Baltimore, the signs, the bike route markings, the reminders to drivers to not kill us. I would give it up if the money got spent on keeping scum like this off the road. I mean it.

Besides, I almost got hit by the same idiot who also almost caused an accident with cars this weekend — twice. Because he didn’t know where he was going. Because the fact that he did not know where he was going somehow excused him from darting out into traffic (almost nailing me), cutting people off to change lanes, stopping, darting back out of traffic (causing me to skid hard, and, damn, thank the gods I lock my arms when I stop like that, lest I would have gone over the handlebars).

I would hope that, with time, people think more about who else is on the road. But they won’t. They don’t even think about other cars. This jackass yesterday caused a problem for more cars than the two bikes he nearly wrecked.

Most* people are stupid when they are in cars. I know. I was, too. I used to sit in my car and plan out stuff to buy, think about people I hated, listen to music and drive around the country to forget problems I did not want to think about or deal with. I would sometimes get aggressive, blowing the horn at morons in Carbondale who did not stop at STOP signs, apparently one of only five people in that town who used the car’s horn. I honestly drove several times when I was too damned tired to be driving and probably put myself and other people at risk in doing so. But I was in a car, so I thought I was unstoppable. I don’t know; maybe cars only made me a jackass.

I hope peak oil means less idiots driving around in metal boxes that can kill people. We have lots of roads cyclists can use. How freakin sweet would it be to ride up 95 to Boston for my 40th birthday, in a dozen years? I like the idea of riding across the country on former highways. Sort of evokes something from Fight Club and puts me in mind of a hot-air balloon propelled by bike, so I could ride to Paris and look great when I got there. All buff and stanky and really in the mood for a nice cafe’ au lait.

[*Calm down. I said, "most."]

What is “peak oil”? “Peak oil is the point in time at which the maximum global petroleum production rate is reached, after which the rate of production enters its terminal decline. If global consumption is not mitigated before the peak, the availability of conventional oil will drop and prices will rise, perhaps dramatically.”

That means that we’re running out. Guess who’s going to get oil when it really starts to disappear? Not you, not me. Probably the airlines, industry, the government — all groups who should have freakin seen this coming. Maybe rich people will be apple to get oil. Probably. I can see all the cars in Hampden and Roland Park disappearing for tiny versions of their former selves, more bikes (which now sell for two thousand dollars), then the huge houses down the street from me on University Parkway having land yachts with combination locks on the gas tank doors and armed guards circling them. The engines left running as a disturbing display of wealth.

Not to mention things made of oil like plastic. Starbucks might charge you for that lid soon, man. Plastic will replace gold for bling!

What? You just bought a big SUV or hovercraft? That sucks for you, dude.

On University Parkway, there are bike lanes where I live and new ones in front of the stadium at Hopkins. Between 40th Street and the new lanes past San Martin Drive, there are bike route indicators. I was feeling good about this as I rode over one. While they are not as nice as bike lanes, they raise awareness. And now the wanker that gives you shit for being on the road can be reminded that cyclists in Maryland are afforded the right to be on the road — though not to hog it, you asshole tight-pants weekenders riding three across because you’re scared of the big bad city. Anyway, I was admiring the raised paint when some jackass almost hit me. He wanted to make a right onto Tudor Arms, and he/she was not looking at me and almost ran me over at least a hundred feet from his/her turn. I gave him/her the extended, full-arm and verbal single digit salute, once I realized that I almost got run over. I was in the front, and Dan and F yelled, “John[ny]!!” I could have keyed his Volvo, he was so close.

Hmm, maybe I should make a Freddy-styled pair of bike gloves with old keys on the tips for such bad drivers who deserve their precious paint on their cars to have F. U. C. K. U! scratched into the side.

Wait, that might be hard to scratch while riding. But I could at least pay them back for their almost flattening me with something to remember me by, in addition to the bike fat finger.

Anyway, we had a great ride. The part of the city we live in is one of the highest points in Baltimore, so there are lots of hills to race down and to muscle up. It all, all of it, the whole thing, builds character. Despite the cold, we were sweaty and thirsty at the end. So we celebrated in my apartment with some Brooklyn Brewery Black Chocolate Stout.

And those bins are pretty. I can’t wait to finally get one.

Even if you’re not a fan of Martin and Sheila, you have to admit that people have been displaying pride in our city under their tenures. Maybe it’s unrelated to them and is a coincidence. I don’t know. Or care. I’m just happy that people care about Baltimore again, even with our sad crime statistics.

We met at the Water Tower (where we always meet) and took a zippy ride down Spring Lake, dinging our bells at the kiddies out Trick-or-Treating. These days, there are disappointingly few kids out doing that, but there were tons around Homeland. Maybe the folks in the big houses of Homeland give out the best candy. They sure gave us a lot of smiles and waves.

We elicited a lot of comments like, “Cool, a Halloween bike ride!” and “Cool bikes!” I’m surprised that it was so surprising to see people on bikes in Baltimore, since it is really becoming a more commonplace thing to see nowadays, especially in North Baltimore. But it was nice that people noticed.

We rode through some alleys, dodged some traffic and scored iced-coffee and iced-tea, which we enjoyed in the quad at Hopkins. Added boost. We rode through Hampden and back up to the Water Tower. It was damned gleeful!

Maybe we can do one for Thanksgiving and/or Christmas. New Years would be fun, but there are, frankly, too many drunken idiots out that night.

DC Metro, October 4th. I love that subway. Check out the larger (link above), my most commented Flickr photo:)

Photo Friday: Silence.

Then later on, we’re walking toward the Smithsonian, and there are some Greenpeace volunteers parked outside of Wholefoods. Now, I’m gonna say it. The Wholefoods closest to my apartment is not somewhere you’re likely to find a lot (which is not to say no) environmentalists or even people who give a shit. No. Instead, it’s the local status market for all the look-at-me’s who roll up in land yachts and German V8s. Shopping there is a nightmare of ignorant yuppies cruising around like they own the place, who have no idea what the hell Wholefoods even exists for. Seriously, if you have an SUV like that, everything else you might try to do for the planet won’t cancel that out, especially since I doubt the average 13-passenger vehicle owner lives in a small and efficient apartment. Shopping there makes me want to make people disappear, first of all the jackass employee who parks hers or his rusty bike parallel to the bike rack, hogging the whole thing daily. I only go there for things I can’t get at the two other markets near my apartment.

Anyway, there are these Greenpeacers outside of Wholefoods in Washington. We are hot, sweaty, tired, have to pee and just want to get to the Smithsonian as quickly as possible. I know they don’t want me to sign something that I would probably really sign. I know they want a membership and that they are not getting one until I get hired. I know they are probably hot, too. So when “Mr. 22-year-old I know something so I know everything” approaches us, I try to save us all time by telling him the truth: we are in a hurry. He exclaims, “It will only take a minute!” and keeps shooting it and stomping his feet as we walk away. What. A. Weiner.

I want to run back, shake him and make me tell him what kind of car he drives. I want to shake him for all the “greener than thou” people I know, especially the ones who tell me stupid things that are not true — as if I am wrong for not “knowing” them while they are in fact false, hence my not “knowing” them. Especially people who go out of their way to tell you how green they are, how much they recycle, how they have organic shampoo — all the while owning a car they don’t need in a city where it’s easy to live without one. If one more person tells me about how they recycle their bath water over a big meat sandwich on a foam plate that they bought, I am going to snap.

I am not talking about people who own cars. Everyone I know, with one or two exceptions, owns a car. Or truck. I’m talking about people who want to be “hardcore” environmentalists but not give anything up, so they get all vocal and try to make you feel inferior to their green status. “I recycle, so it balances out. [insert other very false fact here] Johnny, you should…” Living a lie, in very obnoxious ways.

I know I’m not the greenest person around. I do have a thing for non-recycled notebooks, cheap pens, Tevas, imported beer, etc. But I don’t drive, don’t eat meat, don’t use “normal” products for cleaning my apartment or body, I live in a small apartment, don’t have AC at home. At least I’m trying and not lying to myself and everyone else and judging people who aren’t themselves first judgmental jerks. I do judge judgmental people, though. That’s probably a personal problem. Or, I like to think, me being the agent of the universe and balancing things out in some cosmic and ironic revenge on idiots who loudly think they know everything.

But that has nothing to do with organic potatoes and aloe-based toothpaste.

For Photo Friday: Wholesome.

Because the folks in that building get to decide how un-organic food becomes labeled “organic” even when the main ingredient is not.

I had a ton of fun in Washington yesterday. More photos to follow, especially on Flickr.

This guy was shouting stuff at the Ecofestival that kicked off Baltimore Green Week in May, at Druid Hill Park. I totally have that shirt.

Photo Friday: Loud.

It was hot last week, so I sought refuge in Moroccan mint tea. It was fairtrade and organic, to boot. This variety came from Choice Organic teas, newly available at my local grocery store.

I’m going to have some now:)

They wear big shoes.

According the Rainbow sandals, I have large feet. And I’m not very tall.

These are hemp and very comfortable, though, even for biking.