So I get to my local city hall, thanks to BikeNoodle, and I join the other bike riders as we wait for the mayor’s proclamation about National Bike Month. One of my fellow citizens says she was buzzed on the way there, which means a motor vehicle driver passed her so closely she could feel it. She kind of shrugged, like, hey, it happens, and I could feel my body recoil. No longer being willing to accept the risk of this one-step-before-death is the reason I started using BikeNoodle two years ago, and I haven’t been buzzed since. The fact that many people have normalized and accepted this dangerous illegality stuns me. In fact, it’s a buzz-kill.