A Little Aside About Summer

I've categorized the types of people who come to my resort community in the summer making my rural agricultural town swell from 250 people to 25,000 or more. This explains why I hate July and August and I'll base it on mountain biking.

I mountain bike around four to six months a year, depending on the weather. I'm not a great fan of biking. Hell, I'm not a great fan of moving my body except for sex. Yet, I have to exercise otherwise I'll merge into my sofa or desk chair. I also bike to prove my cardiologist wrong. Both lines of my family (of which two generations that I know at best) suffer from cardiac disease. I believe that one day I'll drop dead from a heart attack while biking and that'll show him.

Since I've two rare neurological deafness conditions and no specialist to date (as there are only 3 who refuse to accept my out of network payment which is 1/4 of what they want, a story I intend to tell in a month or two under the title, "Condemned to Death"), we guess that perhaps a cardiac disease is the reason why I became a medical oddity overnight. It could also be the result of a brain tumor, cancer or tertiary stages of syphilis.

At any rate, every time I've chest pain, I run to my cardiologist who patiently asks me, "Can you describe what you were doing to incur this pain?"

"Sure," I informed him. "I was going up a mountain in 90 degree heat."

He exhaled. "Miss Stone, if you had a cardiac disease, that alone would have you fall from your bike like a stone, dead." Notice how he was able to fit my name in his diagnosis?

In a nutshell, two months a year drivers imperil my life. I do a 10-mile ride around my town which includes a 2-lane highway with crumbling shoulders and back roads with NO shoulders. Unless I want to bike in the 6' deep ditch alongside the roads.

Without further preamble, these are the categories of people who are determined to kill me:

Summer Residents: These citidiots are aggressive drivers and livid that I've the temerity to bike on the shoulders of the highway and on the back roads. They honk at me and some shove me from behind with their cars. They don't understand why I don't want to drive in the 6' deep ditches alongside the roads. Perhaps they're jealous that a 58-year-old woman's in such great shape that she can bike up a mountain. 99% of them haven't seen their penises in 20 years due to their big guts. And those are the women!

Hasidim: We have over 20,000 of these people two months a year who never learned how to drive. They're not malicious, they're stupid. They believe a tattooed woman on a bike is equivalent to a deer on wheels and must be eradicated. It's a game. Doesn't matter if they're caught by police; they've more aliases than ponzi schemers. Hell, they perfected ponzi schemes as demonstrated by the illegal Federal Funds they stole at Kiryat Joel and never prosecuted because the Feds can't find the people - too many aliases!

Russian Bungalow Colonists: The few times they venture off their compounds, they try to avoid me on the bike. However, they're demons on the road when they walk. They love to walk on the little streets by my house. I love the glares of hatred that I've the temerity to drive my car past them, making them move off the center of the street. They don't pay property taxes, but they believe they own the roads for which I pay taxes. I caught them keying my car and trespassing. Their attitude changes, however, when they become property owners where I live. Suddenly, enlightenment strikes and they HATE their own kind still stuck in the bungalow colonies. Just love it.

Day Tourists: We've a music center that hosts the worst acts known to mankind. Still, there's a draw. These people zip in and out of the music center and do not contribute anything to the local economy. Okay, they do purchase a few sandwiches.

The music center, highly pushed by the community, has cost the property taxpayers money for we pay for their sewage and infrastructure as well as using OUR police force for traffic. The idiots here never knew that a not-for-profit organization means that they don't make a profit for they drain incoming revenues into their collective pockets - they thought a not-for-profit is a charitable organization. No matter - all this music center added was higher taxes to pay for the huge traffic entering and leaving the center through use of our police and to make constant repairs of our county roads. Not to mention the spill off into the lake of the 2-lane highway running alongside, polluting the lake with oil, gas and whatnot. But hey, we got a MUSIC CENTER!

I don't have much trouble with Day Tourists for they rarely drive around here. When they do, they point at me and say, "Look, how quaint! A tattooed local!"

My issue is the tourist buses that use the back streets to save them from traffic on the 2-lane county highway. They have pushed me off the road into the 6' ditch alongside too many times to count. But, hey, it's to bring REVENUE into the MUSIC CENTER!! Fuck me, right?!

And there you have it. I'm a true misanthrope. Still, I count the days until September: in one fell swoop these motherfuckers leave town. That's when the real summer starts for us locals.

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PS: Just came back from a mountain bike ride, hence this blog post.

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