Shining 'cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned
It was cold yesterday morning, but not too cold. Minus 4 degrees Celsius, if I remember correctly. That's a fine cycling temperature. It's a hell of a lot better than plus 30, that's for sure. One sweats in those conditions, and risks arriving at work in need of a shower. Yeah, it's gross. On those days, I ride slowly, slowly. But yesterday, the roads were clear but not because the City of Toronto finally managed to properly clear the roads. The warm weather had intervened and returned the roads to a more cycling-friendly state. They were flat, ice-free, open.
At this time of year, I think people start hankering for spring. It's a bit too soon. Yesterday morning, I saw a guy cycling with no gloves and wearing only a fleece for warmth. Clearly, he suffers from delusions. Later, waiting at a traffic light (something many cyclists don't bother to do), I heard some music. At the next light, I realized that the music was coming from a car right beside me.
I guess he thought it was spring. The windows were down, the cold air flowing through his hair. If one is going to blast the tunes with the windows down, certain musical choices have to be made. Some music just doesn't work, especially in association with certain automobiles. I mean, you can't blast Madonna...well, unless you are driving a PT Cruiser or a VW Beetle or maybe even a Mini Cooper. I don't think it is OK to drive a muscle car are treat the neighbourhood to the musical stylings of ABBA, for example.
So, I look over and notice that this dude is driving a nondescript American-type car. Out of his windows came My Father's House, from Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska album. I was actually quite stunned. Most people on the planet consider Nebraska to be one of the most boring albums ever made. Not this guy: he had it cranked. But, I realized that his car agreed with the music.
This morning it is snowing again and the roads are being dusted in white.