In midtown Sacramento, you’ll occasionally see a shoal of people meandering down the road on what appear to be miniature motorbikes. Though it’s quite possible you’ll smell or hear them first. This shoal is – in the loosest possible sense of the word – a “gang” of moped riders. They don’t have formal chapters like motorcycle or, even, motor scooter gangs, and their captains are merely required to “not be an idiot” and “have good ideas for fun stuff to do.” There’s no fancy charter or historic creed. In fact, they’ll be the first ones to tell you they’re way to lazy and disorganized for all that. One simple phrase characterizes what these cycling cephalopods are all about. Their unofficia

In a tiny, 12-by-10 room cluttered with microphones, headphones, soundboards and telephones, a message will soon escape from the confines of the small studio suite and spread throughout Sacramento and its surrounding regions. A message that, according to its messenger, transcends its own transmission. Robert Briggs, 43, a pastor at Immanuel Baptist Church in midtown Sacramento, burns the candle at both ends with one end in mind: that the kingdom of God be furthered in the souls of men and women unfettered. On this particular December, Wednesday morning, Briggs prepares to record a pair of 24-minute messages from the book of Romans that will subsequently air two consecutive Friday aftern