The title of this post is just a little homage to the naming convention frequently used for individual episodes of Freaks & Geeks, one of televisions brighter moments--the kind that lasts for just a season because it doesn't attract enough viewers. I remember when the series originally aired, but I never got around to turning on and tuning in that direction. My bad, but as it has so many times since I've joined Netflix, DVD came to the rescue. The sole season is available, bringing 1980 at Detroit's fictional McKinley High back to life. Incredible ensemble cast, delectable humor, wicked use of music, deadly dialogue--it was and is a fucking fantastic show. Watching the very last episode tonight was actually a very bittersweet (and hilarious) experience. I'll miss the burnouts and freshman that populated a school that was very much like my own high school experience. In fact, I've heard that Freaks & Geeks was more popular amongst people who had been teens in the late 70s-early 1980s, than it was with people who were teens when the show aired in 2000. Anyway, enough about that; I sold my tv for a reason, but Freaks & Geeks is one of those truly inspired shows that reminds one that real art can come out of the medium.

The other title reference refers to Critical Mass, which I finally participated in as I've been threatening to do for the past five years. Critical Mass, if you don't know, is when bikers take over the street, disrupting rush hour traffic patterns in an effort to, among other things, "assert cyclists' rights to the road." The Critical Mass movement has been described as an "unorganized coincidence." There's no sign up list or initiation process, it's not a club with dues or leadership--it's a happening, one that originated in San Francisco 13 years ago and has spread across the country and world. One could call it a sort of, non-violent political action though riots have occurred, arrests have been made, and the City of New York is currently trying to ban any further Critical Mass events. Here in SF, it's become a time-honored tradition, taking place on the last Friday of the month, rain or shine. If you live in the city, you're not to be surprised when hundreds or even thousands of bicyclists come barrelling through your neighborhood with no advance warning. The route is never predetermined and the geography of the city is such that hundreds of people on bikes can cover most of the city in a matter of a couple hours.

Anyway, I had a blast. I rode my bike to work that morning and was ready to roll at 6pm, when the ride began forming at Justin Herman Plaza. Every style of bike and every style of rider was to be seen, from the fully decked out Lance Armstrong types to the down and dirty, bike messenger contingents. BMXers mingled with folks on single speed or handbuilt models. One guy was even riding an authentic high wheel bike. I even saw a mother with her grade school age boy; they were wearing matching bike jerseys.