Well, Mark Warner has officially gone from being a scared of his own shadow to being my hero. Not that they are two ends of a continuum, I realize. Sure, his leadership on the budget issue went a long way toward changing my opinion of him, but a fall over the handlebars sealed the deal.
Having suffered three broken collar bones, a cracked scapula, numerous broken ribs and a concussion that striped me of hours of my recollected life — all thanks to my suicidal (says my wife) bike riding — I can say, Governor, I feel your pain. And your embarrassment. I cracked several ribs years ago when I stood and looked back over my shoulder to make sure my kids were still behind me while simultaneously braking with my left hand, the one that controls the front brake. As Warner learned yesterday, that means over the handlebars we go.
So Governor, join the ranks of the slightly suicidal and occasionally stupid cyclists. We probably deserve each other.