First, I wasn't riding a bicycle, I was driving a truck. I thought I was nice by not simply giving Mr. WrongWay "the finger" and telling him to "get lost". Instead I gave him a few nicely-worded suggestions on how to improve his chances of surviving the Southern California streets, and gave him kudos for running an errand on his old (or should I say "classic"?) bike.

Need a little more detail on why I was in a truck? I opened the garage door so I could put the stuff I just bought at the lumber yard inside: eight 4x4 posts and twenty 2x4 rails, plus eight bags of concrete mix for the posts, that I was going to use for a replacement fence; can't haul all that on a bicycle!. Mr. WrongWay cyclist rode up on the passenger side of my truck just as the door was going up. Three of my bikes are kept in the garage and easy to see if the garage door's open. He put his own foot in his own mouth.

Give him my helmet? Hmmm . . since its sized for me, might not fit him properly, so it might actually be dangerous to do that - might give Mr. WrongWay a false sense of security. Then again, I was thinknig about getting a new one in January (at an after Christmas sale). But considering how much its depreciated in value over the few years I've had it, and Mr. Wrong-way's poor judgement of safe riding, it might qualify under the old motorcycle axiom "a $10 helment for a $10 head".