In other words, stop honking your bloody horns as if you play no role in the traffic you curse.
Walking’s my thing. This town is beautiful–the architecture, trees, flowers, energy, people, animals. Decay is beautiful, too, in its valiant struggle to survive. I know, it takes effort putting one foot in front of the other, drowning out your surroundings with whatever’s coming through your earbuds (too loudly, I’ll bet; I did it, too, and now say, “What?” far too often for a person my age), and ignoring fellow humans’ existence at the same time (this is my “thorn in your side” issue, if you haven’t noticed).
I’ll admit, this is a fit town–runners running, gym members at the gym (wow, just…wow), cyclists cycling (many without helmets; set a good example for the kiddies, would you? “No man is an island.” I think that works here). And leave the sidewalks for pedestrians, please, or an angry man’ll jump out of the bushes surrounding the Broadmoor Co-op and yell at you (he scared the hell out of a poor jogger the other day). Had absolutely no effect on the twenty-something cyclist (who donned a helmet, I’ll give him that).
Still, Washingtonians eat out a lot. Restaurants serve unhealthy portions and too few are vegetarian, much less vegan. Disappointing, considering the education level of the average urbanite. Never fear, the 43YOV’s on the case!