Forever In Your Debt: Putting the Car before the Horse

Firstly, I'd hate to do this, but I heard there's some video of a mountain biker getting hit by a an antelope in South Africa. However, I can't seem to find it. If you have any idea where I can watch it please click here. Thanks very much.

Speaking of things that are all over the Internet, you've probably heard by now about that GM advertisement telling college students to "stop pedaling" and to "start driving," as reported by BikePortland:

The cynical view of the American educational system is that it exists solely to make sure you graduate with sufficient debt to ensure your indentured servitude to "the Man" for the rest of your life. I know I had barely hung the obligatory John Cleese "Silly Walk" poster in my own dorm room when I was visited by a phalanx of sorority pledges who, in order to gain acceptance into the sisterhood, had to sign up their fellow freshmen for WhateverBank™ MasterCards. You've got to admire the brilliance of that bank--harness the awesome power of college students' burning desire for social acceptance in order to create a free marketing army who will in turn create thousands of new cardholders for you. Presumably, those sweatpants-clad pledges from Syossett now work on Wall Street, and the stoned freshmen with the towels stuffed under their doors who said "Yes" to the cards are now the Occupy Wall Street protesters, jobless yet still paying off the buckets upon buckets of buffalo wings they paid for with those stupid cards.

Given this, it's hardly surprising that GM would employ a similar peer pressure-driven tactic to sell cars. Sure, entering the nonexistent job market with a student loan and a car loan is like going on one of those "epic" Rapha ride with no food, water, or chamois cream, but at least you won't be some loser who commutes by bicycle. Really, the pitch is so predictable that I can't even bother to be irritated by it--it's no more offensive than those stupid Chrysler ads. What is irritating though is that they don't even have the "pants yabbies" to stand by it. Instead, they're falling all over themselves and apologizing on Twitter:

Yeah, I'm sure they're "looking forward to sharing the roads." Essentially, GM have succeeded in turning the outraged Forces of Cycling Smugness into a free focus group who are now unwittingly helping them re-draft their college ad campaign. It should be a matter of days before a new ad with a driver smiling at a woman on Dutch bike comes out, and they start giving away crappy trunk racks and Denali road bikes with the Chevy Cruze.

Speaking of outrage, yesterday I mentioned the following Kickstarter campaign in what I imagined was a humorous context:

In so doing, my intent was to make light of the irony that, in Portland, a mobile bike shop-slash-rolling party is probably commonplace. (I know, high-larious, right? Jokes are even funnier when you explain them.) What I did not mean to do was cause offense to the entrepreneur himself, though unfortunately it appears that I may have done so:

If anyone takes the time to look through my Kickstarter campaign, they will find that in exchange for their contribution, I am offering some pretty solid incentives that are worth at least as much as the contribution itself. I’m sorry, Mr. *****, if my business plan offends your sense of what is proper and good. I suggest you do not contribute to my project.

I am not offended at all--not only do I wish him all the luck in the world, but I also have no sense of what's "proper and good" anyway. (Years ago, I accidentally flushed my moral compass down the toilet, and I have yet to purchase another one because I'm waiting for the crabon version.) I might have felt bad about all this and apologized, but then I noticed something. Before I mentioned his campaign he had raised precisely zero dollars, but since then he's raised seventy-five USA Fun Tickets, which I'll just assume came from someone who saw his campaign on this very blog:

You're very welcome, don't even mention it.

Still, it's just this sort of unpleasant misunderstanding that causes me stress--almost as much stress as needing to have today's "hottest wearable items." And when it comes to hot wearable items, nothing is hotter or more wearable than a dork-tastic pair of glasses that tells you your "wattage:"

So what inspired someone to invent "Fred-vision?" Well, it was a moment as sublime as when that kumquat fell on Sir Isaac Newton's head:

Sport-iiiis inventor and founder of 4iiii Innovations Ian Andes had an “aha” moment when running (yes, on foot). His wristwatch Garmin told him he was running seven-minute miles, a significant milestone for him, and while fixating on his watch, he tripped over a curb and injured himself badly. Similarly, riders doing intervals or other hard efforts can be assured they are working at the proscribed level without losing view of any obstacles they may be quickly coming up on.

Now, you might think the conclusion he should have drawn from this "aha" moment was that he's a gigantic dork and should probably just enjoy running instead of staring at his watch. However, that's just why his "aha" was so brilliant--it's because he realized people want to enjoy cycling just as much as he enjoys running, which is to say not at all. Instead, they want to "work at a proscribed level," and what you might call "scenery" they call "obstacles." Therefore, they buy devices like this, which help you cope with those days when you're forced to ride outside because you can't train at home:

I have no idea what these glasses actually cost, but I'm sure it will be a lot, so if you're looking to save money just get one of those P-touch label makers, print out a sticker that says "You're an enormous geek," and place it on the inside of your sunglasses. As for the audio component, just download this to your media player of choice and play repeatedly.

But for the absolute hottest in wearable items, look no further than road bike shoes with no cleats, as forwarded by a reader:

Just keep in mind this is more of a casual look, and for formal non-walkability you should always go with a pair of ice skates.

Say What? Putting the "Con" in "Context"

There are a lot of things I love about "curating" my very own "webbing logue." The suite of luxury offices, the lavish travel budgets, my sexy bikini-clad IT staff-slash-beach volleyball team (well, it's not exactly what you're thinking, but they are very good with computers and they work for tanning products)--all of these things make waking up in the early afternoon and shuffling the nine feet from my hammock to my vibrating blogging chair feel like nothing less than a dream come true.

But the best part of all--better than the dozens of dollars, and the millions of spam emails, and the "mimbo" IT volleyball crew--is the knowledge I've acquired over the years. For example, before starting this blog I had no idea that riding a brakeless fixed-gear bicycle down a steep hill and into a busy intersection was, like, a Zen thing that made you feel totally connected to the bike. I thought it was just stupid. I also had no idea people would pay many thousands of dollars for custom high-end bicycles made from bamboo, having foolishly thought it was a material best reserved for panda consumption and papasan chair fabrication. Boy was I wrong! Most of all, though, I learned that when you say things to reporters, those reporters sometimes use what you say in a disappointing manner--kind of like when you sell someone a perfectly good road bike only to see it wind up on the Fixedgeargallery in sickeningly "tarck"-ified form.

Sure, not knowing this may seem like the epitome of naivete, but the truth is that before starting this blog my only experience with newspapers was stuffing them into my shoes after a rainy ride. Plus, I suppose I also have the old-fashioned notion that answering reporters' questions honestly is an act of good citizenship, like helping old ladies cross the street or reporting that neighbor you know is a terrorist because he wears unusual shoes and drives a minivan with a little too much Bondo on it.

Such was my thinking when a reporter from The Daily emailed me recently and asked for my thoughts on the success of the wildly popular Red Hook Crit. Plus, besides getting my merit badge for helping, I also thought it was a good opportunity to put a good word in for the race, since I happen to like it. Most of all, The Daily is an iPad-specific "newspaper," which means my words would be read by literally hundreds of minimalists.

Anyway, here was my reply:

Alleycats, which started as outlaw messenger races, are everywhere now and have evolved into great big scavenger hunts. On the other hand, USA Cycling are not exactly in touch with the zeitgeist, so sanctioned racing can seem too staid and rarefied to the young urban cyclist. I think Dave Trimble's done a great job with his race in combining the best aspects of both--it's a spectator-friendly circuit race on a closed course, but it's outside of the auspices of USA Cycling and takes place at night in an interesting part of Brooklyn. It's a criterium without the stuffiness, and an alleycat without the easter egg hunt.

A couple of days ago the article appeared:


While the both the article's portrayal of the race and the quotes contained therein were unabashedly positive, I was surprised to see that mine had been "retrofitted" to serve as the exception, and that I had instead been used to fill the role of the lone crank:

The Crit, as it's known, retains the renegade spirit of street racing while demanding serious prowess. Alleycats, or "outlaw messenger races, are everywhere now and have evolved into great big scavenger hunts," ____ ______, who blogs at the site Bike Snob NYC, wrote dismissively in an email.

That's it.

Am I a lone crank? Yes. Did I type the words in the quote they used? Sure. By providing the reporter with a quote of over 100 words, had I in effect given The Daily more than enough rope to auto-erotically asphyxiate myself with? Almost certainly. Nevertheless, I couldn't help feeling disappointed.

Naturally, I expected they'd shorten my quote, though honestly I hadn't expected them to shorten it that way. Plus, having given thought to her questions and then sending her a carefully-considered 107-word reply, how could she possibly say I "wrote dismissively?" A dismissive email from me would have looked more like this:

Race sux, fuck off.

But that's pretty much the opposite of what I wrote.

I suppose I shouldn't complain, since this is what comes of being a wise-ass bike blogger. "Live by the sarcasm, die by the sarcasm," as they say. Still, I am a lone crank, so I'm complaining anyway.

By the way, I did email the reporter to ask how she could have said I "wrote dismissively." She sent me a considered reply of over 60 words, but I prefer to render it according to what I now understand are the editorial guidelines of The Daily:

"I'd...cut the entire second half of it out. I...[had]...no context or no previous understanding of this world," she wrote dismissively in an email.

Live by the edit, die by the edit.

Of course, to truly appreciate how pathetically naive I am, you have to consider that this is the second time in less than a week that I've been disappointed by a publication owned by Rupert Murdoch.

This is like renting a hotel room to Charlie Sheen and being disappointed when he trashes it.

Speaking of Rupert Murdoch rags, via John del Signore at Gothamist, it seems that the New York Post is now suggesting that bike paths will desecrate September 11th memorials:

It's terrifying to think about how horribly misquoted you could be for an article like that.

Of course, if any publication would like to know my opinion of fixed-gear hillbombing, they're more than welcome to use the following quote: "It's stupid." [Though I'm sure The Daily would render it thusly: "'It's stupid [not to ride your brakeless fixie down steep hills and into traffic, kids],' he wrote dismissively.") Further to yesterday's post, I learned that the hillbomber featured therein actually has a "tumblr" which he uses to dispense advice to hillbombing aspirants:



Emi, you're one crazy mofo. By the way I'm diggin' your style!

I've stripped and wrecked lots of hubs doing skids, how do you keep your hub from not stripping while doing those crazy as skids?

Thanks
Anonymous

Thank you, so much for being a fan! As far as hubs go and anything else for that matter, I only have one word for you!!!
Phil Wood, Phil Wood, Phil Wood!!! You will never go wrong with Phil Wood!!!
Phil Wood Bottom Bracket, Phil Wood Double Budded Stokes, Phil Wood Lock Ring, Phil Wood High Flange Hub…

My advice on how not to strip your hub while stopping would have been to skip all the expensive Phil Wood stuff and just get a $30 brake caliper, but then again I'm not a famous hillbomber. I wonder if he ever uses a CamelBak, like Frank Schleck:

It's good to see that the UCI are taking this infraction seriously, because if CamelBak use is allowed to continue unchecked it will only be a matter of time before the professional peloton are also riding in baggy shorts, growing out their leg hair, and using fully-suspended bicycles with fourteen feet of front and rear travel in order to ride off curbs. By the way, if you're wondering why you can't wear a bag of water on your back in a UCI road race, here is the reason:

The Leopard Trek rider was allowed to start the time trial by UCI officials present at the race but he may have broken rule 1.3.033 which says "it is forbidden to wear non-essential items of clothing or items designed to influence the performances of a rider such as reducing air resistance or modifying the body of the rider."

That last part about "modifying the body of the rider" also prohibits stuffing tubed meats and other phallic objects down your shorts in order to make yourself seem exceptionally well-endowed, though it's perfectly fine to do this on the podium after the race is over.

Speaking of mountaining bicycles, my esteemed blogleague Stevil Kinevil of All Hail the Black Market is spearheading (or in his case "spearbearding") a campaign to have a crappy Softride (is there any other kind?) inducted into the Mountain Bike Hall of Fame. Here he is on that Softride as seen in the March issue of Bike Magazine:

While I'm primarily a Y-Foil guy I would still very much like to see him succeed, so if you'd like to help you can appeal directly to the Mountain Bike Hall of Fame by following the directions at the end of this post. Then, while you're at it, you can also order a stunning "Smokey and the Bandit" replica jersey from the man himself.

Penultimately, if you're in need of inspiration, my other esteemed blogleague, Lucho of Cyclinginqusition, has shared with me this moving song about the virtues of riding without the aid of performance-enhancing drugs:

6

If you've been wondering whatever happened to that Michael Ball guy, I'm pretty sure that as soon as this song came out he exploded in a wet blast of denim and hair gel.

And lastly, if you haven't gotten around to giving your bike a spring tune-up yet, a reader informs me that you can finally outsource that chore to someone who will perform it while topless:

I'm sure Kiki is quite handy with the nipple wrench.

Value-Added Content: You Get What You Pay For

Before launching BSNYC/RTMS Blogging and Investment Services, Inc. (NYSE: DOUCHE) and consequently becoming the sixth-most wealthy person in the world, I was in the employ of a small business concern, which meant that I had a boss. My boss was very much what people call a "self-made man," and he had built his successful business by the sweat of not only his brow but of his other body parts as well, which made our offices a moist and somewhat fragrant place to work.

I had a tremendous amount of respect for this boss. He provided me with a living, he taught me the business in which we were engaged, and he revealed much to me about the nature of life itself. Of course, like any boss he would occasionally abuse his power, and like any employee I would occasionally lapse into periods of puerile resentment, but for the most part it was a happy working relationship. In any case, I honestly believe that there are few more valuable experiences than working for and being shouted at by a self-made man or woman. It takes long periods of intense pressure to form things of beauty and value, as mountain ranges, coastlines, and diamonds prove.

Also, I made off with like $17,000 in office supplies when I finally left, so if you want a sweet, sweet deal on some printer cartridges then just email me here.

Anyway, if you work for a business comprised of more than one person you probably have "meetings," and this was also the case with us. Ostensibly, the purpose of these meetings was so that we could all apprise each other of what we were working on, but in practice they mostly consisted of my boss regaling us with tales of his latest achievements in his characteristically "flambullient" fashion. Certainly he was more than justified in doing so, since we all owed our livelihoods to the proceeds of his flambullience, but still I'd be lying if I said it wasn't sometimes a little difficult for me to watch. In fact, as someone who tends to think in metaphor, I could never completely shake the idea that the purpose of these meetings was so that my boss could wag his penis around in front of us and attempt to impress us with it.

"Wouldya look at the size of this thing?," I'd hear him saying as he recounted the value of his latest deal. "And it's not just the length, it's the girth," he'd further explain as he elucidated the finer deal points. Meanwhile, I'd just sit there squirming until he finally got around to sheathing himself and asking what I'd been up to lately, and my stomach would drop as I'd reluctantly unzip my metaphorical fly so everybody else could point and laugh.

Granted, this may be less revealing of my boss's personality than it is of my own profound insecurity and innumerable hang-ups, but whatever the case it should go a long way towards explaining why I retreated from the world of business and now spend my days hiding and blogging for free Scattantes with nobody but a helper monkey for company.

"So what does this have to do with, well, anything?," you may be asking as you either gag or experience the faint stirrings of sexual arousal. Well, those meetings were the first things I thought about when I read the following editorial in The Wall Street Journal:

As I mentioned this past Friday, recently The Wall Street Journal asked me to unzip and present to them my thoughts about bike lanes. I did so, and while they didn't exactly point and laugh, they did react with indifference and move onto something bigger--that "something bigger" apparently being the massive schlong that is satirist P.J. O'Rourke.

Obviously there is much that is inflammatory in O'Rourke's editorial, but also obviously, as a work of satire, we would be foolish and humorless to be inflamed by it. This is because, to quote another (and vastly better) work of satire, "It's not meant to be taken literally, it refers to any manufacturers of dairy products."

What is frustrating though is that, while this editorial is satire, it's also an excellent example of someone calling a meeting so that he can show everybody his penis. However, unlike my boss, who wagged his dick over things he had actually accomplished in a field in which he was an expert, O'Rourke is just sort of rubbing his dick all over an issue with which I can't imagine he has even the slightest bit of experience. "What's that? Bike lanes?" I could hear him asking an editor. "Sure, I can rub my big, greasy comedy penis all over that one." Like Peter Max simply slathers some paint on a photograph, calls it art, and holds out his hands for a check, in this case O'Rourke just smeared some of his smegma on whatever his idea of people riding bikes is and called it satire. It's not even new smegma, either. He did the same thing back in 1987, when he presented chunks of dick cheese disguised as bon mots such as this, and he's clearly had no new comic insights on the subject since then:

I don't like the kind of people who ride bicycles

At least I think I don't. I don't actually know anyone who rides a bicycle. But the people I see on bicycles look like organic-gardening zealots who advocate federal regulation of bedtime and want American foreign policy to be dictated by UNICEF. These people should be confined.

I apologize if I have the wrong impression. It may be that bicycle riders are all members of the New York Stock Exchange, Methodist bishops, retired Marine Corps drill instructors, and other solid citizens. However, the fact that they cycle around in broad daylight making themselves look like idiots indicates that they're crazy anyway and should be confined just the same.

Stereotyping for the sake of humor only really works when you understand the stereotype. Obviously he has never ridden a bicycle in Central Park, since his second paragraph pretty much describes the membership of the CRCA.

None of this is to deny someone's right to capitalize on his own whimsical secretions. Indeed, our entire economy is based on commodifying the "stank" on our collective "hang-lows," and to deny this would be positively un-American. (Or, worse, Canadian). Still, you'd like to think that if a New York newspaper wanted someone to skewer the bike lanes in New York, they could have at least found a New Yorker instead of some guy who lives in "rural New Hampshire" and was edgy back in the 1970s. But then again, why should they bother? After all, cycling is still one of those things it's perfectly fine for the mainstream media to completely mischaracterize or else dismiss as a fringe activity despite the fact that millions of people do it. Just throw it to the novice reporter, or else the old satirist who's hopelessly out of touch, and let them do whatever they want with it.

Meanwhile, between running BSNYC/RTMS Blogging and Investment Services, Inc., tending to my sustainable urban chicken coop, and eking out sufficient time to ride my bicycle in a recreational fashion, I completely missed the Tour of Flanders, which by all accounts seems to have been tremendously exciting:

I did manage to save the race to my DVR, and I plan to watch it just as soon as I've gotten through my backlog of "Glee" episodes, but in the meantime I do find the phrase "Cramps on the Muur" whimsically evocative, and I hope Cancellara will consider penning a memoir under that title. He can even use a ghost writer, which is the literary equivalent of a Gruber Assist.

Lastly, a reader informs me that the PistaDex in Seattle has just spiked dramatically, for you can now trade your track bike for a Picasso:

[ TRADE ] My Picasso Etching for your Road/Tri/Fixie/Mtn Bike ([ TRADE ])

Date: 2011-03-31, 11:43AM PDT

Reply to: [deleted]

I know this may be a little random, but I want a new bike, and am team broke like most people in this economy, so, I am interested in doing a little trade. What am I offering, I have an original Picasso La Celestina etching that I purchased a few years ago from the Franklin Bowles Art Gallery in San Francisco, CA for $4,500 and I am interested in trading it for a nice Track Bike, Fixed Gear, Mountain Bike, or ? If you are a racer and have an extra track bike or tri bike, that is what I am most interested in, but I will look at other options as well. I am 5/9 so a Medium size bike is what I am looking for. Please e-mail me with your potential trade. Located in Seattle.

No word if Picasso also rubbed his manhood on it, but we can always hope.