So, for now I'll just enjoy my secret Los Angeles secretly, feeling my blood pressure fall as I sail past all the six-cylinder, leather-upholstered pressure cookers around me. My bigger concern is what would happen to L.A. if all the people who currently define themselves by their cars were to turn their sights on bicycles instead. Imagine Beijing-like throngs of wealthy Angelenos careening down Wilshire Boulevard, yakking obliviously on cell phones, demanding valet bike racks, and competing over whose Italian or French import is more expensive. Frankly, if that happens, I might just buy a surplus Hummer.
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