Look, I can understand closing down certain non-essential businesses, rescheduling concerts, postponing Major League baseball, limiting social contact, yadda yadda. But Portland has just taken things a step too far by canceling their annual naked bike ride. Is nothing sacred these days?!
This decision took some real balls. Sounds like a cover-up to me…
Few things are more “Portland” than the World Naked Bike Ride…with the exception of protests. Portlanders protest everything. And when they do, there are counter-protestors protesting the protests. Sure enough, the World Naked Bike Ride is officially a protest—against our nation’s dependency on oil. But it’s also touted as a way to raise awareness of the dangers cyclists face on the road and to promote body positivity. In fact, participants are encouraged to protest any cause they want, using their naked flesh as a canvas for the protest signs.
I’m all for freedom of speech and have nothing against nudity, but I personally can’t imagine riding a bike without pants. There’s way too much potential for bodily injury to parts of the anatomy I would prefer to keep in working order. I mean, if I scraped my elbow, how would I bend my arm to write without experiencing searing pain?!
I did see a bunch of naked bike riders once. Ironically, it wasn’t even in Portland. Tara and I were on one of our many visits to Seattle; we’d stopped for lunch at a hole-in-the-wall pizza place in the Capitol Hill neighborhood when dozens of naked people on bikes went pedaling by on the street outside, seemingly without a care in the world. I did a double take and got over my shock just in time to grab my camera and snap a few pics. That’s not a sight you see every day, so you’ve gotta save it for posterity, ya know?
So: no official naked bike ride this year. But organizers are encouraging anybody who feels like it to bare it all for a bike ride on June 27th…as long as they practice social distancing, of course. There’s no parade route, no start time, no location. Anybody who wants can get jiggly with it.
Just watch out for potholes, okay?
I’m collaborating on a work project with our resident Englishman, John. Which is all well and good—he’s a pretty cool chap with that stereotypical dry British wit—but we seem to be waging an invisible language war on our shared Google doc.
Case in point: we’re doing work for a new university organization.
Pay attention to that last word. It’s key here.
I created a list of FAQs for the organization. After John looked over the content, I noticed he had changed the spelling to organisation. Those folks across the pond sure have a funny way with certain English words, don’t they? Because Rapid City is approximately 4,398 miles from London, I changed it back to organization. The next time I opened the doc, it had reverted once again to organisation.
“Bloody hell!” I exclaimed. “This is bollocks.” Fortunately, I stopped short of telling the wanker to bugger off. Instead, in the interest of preserving international relations, I quietly changed it back to organization. All is right with the world once more.
Until I open the doc back up tomorrow, I’m sure…