The Real Jeff Orr, writes an open letter to Freshmen

Hey Freshmen,

Welcome to Chico! You've made a great decision in deciding to spend these very formative years of your life in this fair town. By this point you've no doubt heard that Chico is a great biking town. It's true! The citie's heavily concentrated student population and incredible flatness combine in a perfect storm of bicycling goodness. But I have some bad news, just because you rode a bike as a kid doesn't mean you know how to ride a bike safely. I should actually rephrase that...just because you rode a bike as a kid doesn't mean you know how to ride a bike without aggravating the shit out of me. So here are some tips on how to ride a bike without sending me into a complete, hulk-out rage.

So you just blew 300 of your parents dollars on one of those cool cruiser bikes (good choice, those things are both highly efficient and on the cutting edge of fashion) and you ride off towards your dorm. You decide to show off your new purchase to all those folks shopping downtown so you head north on Broadway. The fiery glare you see coming from me isn't one of jealousy at your 'hella sweet new ride', it's because Broadway is a one way street and your dumb ass is riding the wrong way. I know this may sound crazy, but just because you're on a bike doesn't mean you get to ignore basic traffic laws. You see, when someone's turning onto a one-way street they only tend to look into the direction that traffic is flowing before pulling out (with occasional glances for pedestrians, but they ten to be slow, predictable creatures) and then you come riding up from the wrong direction, the car pulls into the street and you get knocked off your bike. Now you may or may not get hurt and your new bike may or may not get fucked beyond repair, these things don't keep me up at night. The worst part of this accident is that now I have to hear from you and your friends that "people in Chico don't know how to drive with bikes in the road." Which isn't the case, you dipshits just don't know how to ride a bike like you aren't competing in the Special Olympics.

A couple other basic traffic laws that would make me less of a crocthety old man if you decided to follow them: Stop signs apply to bikes as well...shocking! Now I don't expect you to come to a complete stop for three seconds or whatever the stupid law actually is. I'm simply asking that you don't blow through them like one of those light bikes from Tron that lack the ability to stop. You know how in England they drive on the wrong side of the road? Well the last time I looked at a map it said we live in the "United Sates of A-fuckin-merica" (I love my map), and over here we drive on the right side of the road...and guess what...this is one of those things that bikes should do as well! Here's a tip, if your riding along and you see the words "Bike Lane" painted on the street upside down, that means your on the wrong side of the fucking road. It's a lot less annoying to everyone around you if you just cross the damn street. Then we wouldn't have to deal with your retarded-homunculus-ass riding the wrong way in the bike lane.

Ok, so you've got your bike, your riding on the correct side of the road, slowing down for stop signs, etc...Your phone starts to ring. It's one of your new friends! You answer the phone, "Hey man what's up?...Oh I just got a new bike!...yeah man I fucking love riding my bike, it's great...Oh man, you should hella get a new bike...Are you going to Ashley's party tonight?...etc..." During this very important conversation you've run through three stop signs, one red light...and you've been swerving all over the bike lane and half the road (making it impossible for everyone behind you to pass your leisurely 4 mph pace). Nothing pisses me off more than people riding their bike while talking on their phone. You already don't know how to ride a fucking bike and I'm surprised you can even stay upright on the thing when your talking on your fucking brain-cancer machine.

So that's about it. If you follow these simple tips then you'll be saving me from a few more ulcers.

Peace, Love and Jet Lounge,
Jeff

Post Script:
When you get better at riding your bike, please don't ride around doing the whole 'look at me, i can ride my bike without using my hands' thing. I thought that was impressive once...when I was five.

And oh yeah, the next time someone calls me "Lance Armstrong" when I'm riding my bike home from the bars, heads are gonna roll

The Real Jeff Orr, posts when he feels like it damit!

Summer's almost over and that means that Chico's respite from the student population is almost at an end. It's a damn shame because I really enjoy Chico with a rather diminished student population. Now I get to deal with idiots who don't know how to ride a bike, talking on their cell phones while not knowing how to ride a bike (edit: being called "Lance Armstrong" no less than three times while riding your bike home from the bars gets old rather fast too). Also, my circle of friends in Chico has grown one ratio smaller with the departure of one Emile Clark, who's heading off to the land of ports. Hopefully she decides to visit more than Curt...and I don't think the bar can be set much lower than once...when I wasn't even in Chico.

The last studentless weekend of the summer turned out to be one of the best. Katie works at the study abroad office, which is awesome because we get to be some of the first people international students hang out with...forever shaping their opinions about what Americans are truly like. Friday night we hung out with them and I managed to sprain my ankle something fierce while leaving the Bear...the story involves a lot of alcohol, a crowded walkway, and an empty bench.

On Saturday I finally stopped wishing my body existed in a dimension different from the one my consciousness was occupying, when KT and MLE invited me to The Olive Garden for some endless soup, salad and breadsticks. Afterward we convinced six internationalites to take a trip to Bearhole. We had to stop at Target first to pick up some swimsuits. The general reaction to Target was one of...perplexity. "I a store like this with so many different things...common in United States?" I was asked. "There's about 4 of stores like these in every town the size of Chico" I replied to widened (Japanese) eyes. After suite buying it was Bearhole time, which is always nice. Then dinner at Katsu's and some karaoke. The internationals declined our invitation to 80's night at LaSalle's...asking us, "Does everyone in chico have this much energy?" I told him American food pumps you so full of hormones and preservatives that we don't need to sleep.

Sunday marked the aforementioned Emilie Clark's last day in Chico. It started with a delicious champagne brunch...which can only lead to one of two thing...a nap, or more champagne. Being that this is from Chico and that naps are for four year olds, we chose the latter. Swimming/dance party at KT's new digs. Rock band and vodka-tonic-clemantine's at my place. Food and margaritas at Tres. Sleeping and hurried last minute packing at MLE's. Somehow KT managed to find some of that famed Chico Energy and drove MLE to the airport at 5 in the am...the work from 8 am to 7 pm (if memory serves, correct me of your feat was even more amazing)



So Jeff (you're no doubt asking) how is your ankle? Well don't worry. It turns out awesome sideburns aren't the only thing I share with Wolverine...I'm also rather adept at healing.