If I think back to my balsa-soled Duegi shoe days I think we just took cars as part of the landscape. It wasn't a personal thing but almost the complete opposite. They were simply there. London's modern day leaners tend to be fixed riders who have a bit of a superior air about them, and, looking back, I suppose that in the early seventies we, likewise, did think of ourselves as Gods of the Road, and all that was around us was background music.
I think, as time has gone by, and cycling, the greatest constant in my life, has framed my outlook on the world, I've come to see cars as a bit of a nuisance, an intrusion in to public space, and I've left my leaning days behind me (with the exception of those glorious but frightening SPD-R moments when one discovers what it's really like to be at one with the bike). I'd rather not get involved except where the driver does something silly, or gets too close to the one I adore. Notwithstanding, when I see some trustafarian leaning on a car it does bring back happy memories.
It's not simply about the past though. In London we are the new Gods of the Road, sliding effortlessly through traffic or ambling happily down empty bus lanes while car drivers park and wait. The Fixieboys and girls, tweedybits, dyed hair, 'retro' frames (in reality grotty 80s steel jobs) and messenjah bags do the rest of us a service when they assert the new order of things.
And, yes, having thought about it some more, I do really think that a bit of leaning benefits the driver. It's that margin between human beings and things thing. I may even take it up again, as a kindness to some of our less fortunate citizens.
