Once upon a time I was a diligent bicycle commuter and recreational rider who enjoyed cruising the shady suburban streets of the Salt Lake Valley on my way to work and back, and to other destinations just for fun. My riding season began in the early spring and lasted through late autumn. My car remained parked, I saved money on gas, I benefited from a healthy recreational endeavor, and, most important, I felt relatively safe sharing valley roads with motorists. That was then. The past couple of years have been a period of introspection as I consider the mortality rate of cyclists amid a pack of cell-phone-obsessed motorists and their manic attitude of hell-bent, "screw you" superiority.

I plan to resume riding again this spring, and if by chance I become fender-fodder for some jerk whose inane cell-phone call is more important than my life, so be it. But know this: In addition to whatever feeble penalty the law might impose, I have instructed my family to persecute the offending motorist by suing him or her into complete and total destitution. With any luck, I'll get killed by a legislator. Maybe then they'll get the message.

David E. Jensen

Holladay