The other day I had the sheer misfortune to view a gentlemen riding down the sidewalk — not on a bike, a skateboard or any other sane form of transportation that threatens the very life and limb of sidewalk-based pedestrians on a moment by moment basis.
Instead, this gentleman was riding one of those annoying electric scooters around to park in front of his destination.
First of all, let me say that I have little issue with the moderately sized scooters that are simply an homage to the older, infinitely more powerful versions, like the Vespa.
These were designed for true transportation, with ranges and speeds that meant you weren’t confined to campus sidewalks.
Of course, they were gas-powered, usually around 50ccs, and often 4-stroke engines.
They made sense, in a way, if gas mileage was your concern. Let’s face it, once gas is at $10 per gallon, you might reconsider that behemoth eyesore of an H2 that your rich daddy just bought you to appease your whiny requests for materialistic love.
But I’m not bitter.
These moderately sized electric-powered scooters are simply the poor-man’s Segway — the personal human transporter created by legendary, if not somewhat eyebrow-raisingly odd, inventor Dean Kaman.
And, for short trips around campus, down the block to grab a Dew or other “extreme” mass-marketed overly sugarized beverage, or simply to make yourself look like yet another sheep-like consumer, these fit the bill.
Until yesterday, that is, when I lost all respect for anyone who would ever purchase, let alone use in full public view, one of these asinine devices.
On my trip across campus, I noticed what appeared to be a medium-sized gentleman squatting on the tiniest, most obviously fake rendition of some random high-performance import motorcycle.
While not as large as I, this gentleman was obviously oversized for this particular ride, not to mention more than a little mature for its internal powerhouse, or lack thereof, as it were.
Travelling at a soul-screaming three miles per hour, he pulled into one of the bike racks, attempted to avoid getting stuck in the grass, and utterly failing this — revved his engine, and I use that term in complete jest in this instance.
I stood in complete awe, and also to have a moment of silence for the utter death of what little had remained of this man’s dignity.
What’s next? Will I have to gawk at someone crawling along the sidewalk in a Barbie Powerwheel motorized toy convertible?
Perhaps the off-roading jeep model for the boys, assuming of course that by “off-road” you mean “paved and well-maintained sidewalk”?
Why don’t we just completely give up all sanity and ice-skate our way to classes and offices this winter, even with the potential for winter weather being somewhere between nil and zilch?
Please, people, it’s time to let this fad die.
When the majority of our race is willing to cast aside any attempt at exercise, dignity, pride, and monetary lucre simply to buy a form of transportation that’s far inferior to even walking, it’s time to start handing out licenses not to drive but to come to college at all.
And if you bring an oversized Hot Wheels car with you to campus as your mode of transportation?
Sidewalk pedestrians will still have the full, legal and condoned right to laugh at you until they pass out.
Originally printed in the Daily O’Collegian, February 4th, 2004.
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