Three and a half years ago, I finished a blog posting with the words “slow down.” Okay, I added an f-bomb for emphasis. That post described the day when my wife was run over by an SUV during broad daylight. If you are a cyclists or pedestrian, you really don’t want to be on the business end of a motor vehicle. At best you’ll end up with broken bones, a concussion, painful hematomas, and other aches and pains. Just ask my wife, or my friend Charmaine, or my friend Rachel. Or Theresa, an acquaintance from a morning last autumn at Friday Coffee Club. At worst, you can lose your life. For that you’ll have to ask Lorena’s friends and family.

All of their pain and suffering probably could have been avoided if a driver simply had slowed down and paid attention. These things aren’t accidents. They are evidence of a perverted communal acceptance that tens of thousands of people are expendable to convience and commerce.

Not a week goes by that I don’t have a close call with a motor vehicle while riding my bike to work. Considering the fact that I ride most of my commute on a carless trail and the fact that I am totally paranoid about being hit that’s pretty remarkable.

Lately, signs are springing up in my neck of the woods. They say, “SLOW DOWN. We live here. You live here.”

Whoever is putting these up, you have my heartfelt thanks. I do hope they do some good.