Can no longer be a misanthrope, maybe a lycanthrope

I learned two key lessons over the weekend:

1. Try as I might, I just can't argue that everyone (except my family and friends) is a big jerk, and
2. Bike helmets are really, really important.

I learned the first over the course of two events. The second is less lively, so I'll start there.

I was heading to the car after having lunch with a friend. On on side of the sidewalk I was on was a fenced-off area for diners of a local restaurant. On the other side was an area for a tree. It is a grate instead of a sidewalk, so I avoid them because my chair has never met a bump it liked.

I did not notice the planter box hung on the edge of the dining area ... at least not until I smacked into it with my chair, ramming the fence into an empty table and knocking cutlery onto the ground and breaking at least one plate.

Before the restaurant staff came, some random diner came up and started picking things up and asking if I was OK.

Wow.

But the bigger event came Saturday, on my bike ride. My new handcycle is awesome. Usually, I ride four bike trails, turn around (at Little Falls), ride back two trails (to Oak), meet Mom and Claren, and head home on the streets.

The way I ride is really modestly downhill on the way so I go 8-10 mph in higher gears, which is awesome. I go slower on the way back. 

I turn in the street because I have a big turning radius.

Saturday, I was going too fast when I started to turn or my tire went off the curb wrong or something. Anyway, before I knew it, my trike was turning on its side and my helmeted head smacked the pavement hard. I was fine, though. And before I knew it , I was circled by bikers helping me up and asking if I was OK.

My sister said they got their ticket to heaven for that. What about me, though? What do I get for being this font of grace?

And Mom said I had to slow down. I figured that since I survived once, I could keep doing it But no.