This is what passes for humor in District 20 these days:
Sent: Monday, February 28, 2011 6:39 PM Subject: Read this for a LOL! Dear Friends...below is an email from a friend who has battled with me the stupid money expenditures on badly planned bike paths in Madison... Date: Monday, February 28, 2011, 5:17 PM My afternoon walk along the SW bike path is usually spent in serene contemplation on how best to further the blessing we humbly refer to as biking. For some strange reason today was different, and things began to unravel quickly. From some 30 yards (27.432 metres) back I heard some one yelling, and turned to see a biker approaching. At the same time Hurley inexplicably undid the leash clasp from her collar. I motioned her over to the side to sit as I usually do, allowing save-the-planet greatness its due. All of a sudden and at once, it became abundantly clear that this was no ordinary biker (he could flap his lips and pedal at the same time). He stopped to tell me I was breaking the law. I told him my dog was licensed and asked to see his bike registration. He told me he didn't need one because "he lived out in the country." (untrue) A cynic may have detected a modicum of snark and a smattering of rapier-sharp sarcasm as I verbally inventoried what he was, what he was wearing, what he was riding, and why he was riding it. I did note, though only in passing, the pretty colors of his spandex. I may have mentioned the sad irony of said clothing being garishly festooned with corporate logos , and I may have mispronounced 'Thule' when I observed he was acting like one. Even my vast array of diplomacy and reservoir of people skills were unable to prevent his already sour disposition from growing worse. My passing speculation about his relationship with his maternal parent did little to improve matters. He said he was going to photograph my alleged indiscretion and forward it to the authorities, then started rummaging around in his man-purse for his iPUD giving me all the time in the world to rectify it. During his search, I tried to make small talk by rattling off a number of well-known statistics regarding licensure, observation of traffic ordinances and the like. He told me he obeys all laws, then asked if I'd ever seen him break one. Got me there! After stopping his departure three times to answer several more of my well-intended references to his activity, manhood, and choice of attire, he departed for good. And never wanting a brief encounter to end up on the wrong pedal, I waved...with ALL my fingers. Good thing this didn't happen at an earlier stage of development. I'd be trying to explain why I chose to check his prostate with his gear/sprocket assembly...and waiting for one of youse to throw my bail.
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