Weekend Warrior

Well, Dear Readers,
I wish I could tell you that the photograph above was of the nice clerk who rung me up at REI this weekend, but unfortunately, as we all know, it's not. (I bet if that guy worked at REI, they'd be at war with A16 by now, hitting each other over the head with Thermarests and violating the Geneva Conventions by forcing one another to wear zip-off camping pants.)

Okay, I hate to say it, but... My personal rule is that I must admit something shameful at least once every five years, and I think my time is up. So here goes:

In the above picture, that evil ignoramus (if you can be both at the same time,) that man of the wars, the torture, and the illegal spying; the to-hell-with-Kyoto and pretty-please-China- will-you-sit-by-me-at-lunch attitude, actually evokes sympathy from me--much more so than he did when he choked on a pretzel a few years back. I don't know what it is. Is it because I see so much of myself in him in that little piece of celluloid? That Camelbak brand hydration bladder (and matching pack), the iPod headphones, those polarized sunglasses, the sleek red bicycle helmet... Okay, so I won't comment on that inane headband, other than to defend it as mere sweat protection--but sincerely, I think this man has extracted a drop of compassion, nay, solidarity, from my ultra-liberal ticker. You are no doubt begging me why? Well, I'll tell you. I think it's that, in his weekend-warrior, pre-cycling state, that man has been reduced to a vulnerable human being, who needs water, shade, cranial protection (okay that one's up for debate), and itunes, just as much as the rest of us. Suddenly, the term "my fellow Americans" actually means something to me.

So am I switching political parties, or reversing my stance on impeachment? Not likely. But if I were to run into the guy at Yoga Works in the next few weeks, or say, PinkBerry**, or pouring over the New York Times vows section at Peet's some Sunday morning, that could just push me over the edge...



*For the uninitiated, REI and A16 are two sporting goods stores.
** I actually don't really like PinkBerry all that much--in fact, I could produce a tirade about that place worthy of its own blog post--but there is something very liberal and freethinking about it's existence, something which... I can't explain at all.