A cure worse than the disease

Given the high pressure system and warm temperatures in Salt Lake right now, UTRider and I made plans to get out on the single speeds for a quick pedal up City Creek at lunchtime.

Only one problem—when I went to the bathroom to change, I had no shorts. I had tights, but no shorts. Sure, I could have worn the tights alone, but that could have resulted in a jogger being exposed to a fruit basket he or she never wanted to see or me being discharged for sexual harassment just for walking around the office. Not a chance I wanted to take.

I was ready to give up on the ride when Ed, a colleague and fellow cyclist, came to the rescue. He had a lovely pair of plaid shorts in his drawer. Never mind that they were size 2XL and I wear a medium. Needless to say, I got a lot of looks riding through downtown SLC in those bad boys.

Funny thing is that Dug wears shorts like these all the time when he rides. When he’s not wearing manpris, that is.

On the subject of cures worse than the disease, the Utah legislature is debating a change in the liquor laws. Instead of enforcing the private club for members ruse, there’s talk of scanning drivers licenses instead. And putting them in a huge database for the state to know who the sinning imbibers are for time and all eternity. Governor Huntsman is opposed to the database, so it’s likely the Orwellian element of the legislation won’t make it through.

As far as I’m concerned, we should keep the Private Club laws AND have the database. Because far too many people from out of state have decided that the liquor laws are not enough of a deterrent to keep them away from our pow. Heaven forbid we make it more appealing for them to come here, especially since some of them will move here permanently. And now that I’ve established residency, the last thing I want to see is more people moving in from out of state and choking up my ski hill.