Friday, March 25, 2011

BSNYC Friday 1960s-Style Human Be-In, Narrated by Peter Coyote!

With the advent of the Travel Channel television reality series "Triple Rush," as well as the upcoming release of the Hollywood film "Premium Rush," bike messenger-themed entertainment is becoming a genre unto itself. Nevertheless, despite renewed interest in these glorified clerical workers, one wonders if a cinema classic such as "Quicksilver" would have been "greenlit" today. I for one believe that it would not have been, for it is in flagrant violation of the current rule requiring all messenger-themed shows and movies to have "rush" in the title. However, the following are all currently in development according to the Internet Movie Database:

"Quadruple Rush"
"Quintuple Rush"
"Medium Rush"
"Bill & Ted's Excellent Rush"
"Rush Little Hipster Don't You Cry"

Then of course there's the highly-anticipated "What's The Big Rush?!? Slow Down, You're Gonna Hurt Yourself!" It's the touching story of a young Jewish man who, despite his father's wishes, wants to become a bike messenger instead of a cantor, and it's sure to become "The Jazz Singer" of courier films.

I think I smell an Oscar for Justin Bieber in his Hollywood debut--though it might just be the heady aroma of unwashed "shants." Either way, the scenes of Bieber darting through city traffic with his grimy tallis fluttering in the breeze are thrillingly evocative and fraught with symbolism.

Of course, a real messenger movie doesn't need to be "greenlit" by some Hollywood fat cat, because what real messenger stops for red lights anyway? All you have to do if you want to make your own messenger masterpiece is to operate outside the studio system. This could mean producing it yourself, or it could mean producing it in a foreign country with its own film industry, such as Thailand. As it happens, Lucho of the esteemed cycling blog Cycling Inquisition recently alerted me to a trailer for a Thai production that promises to be the greatest messenger movie ever made ever in the history of ever:



I can hear the pitch now: "It's 'Quicksilver' meets 'Pee Wee's Big Adventure,' if they were both scripted by Adam Sandler and directed by John Frankenheimer."

I only hope someone gets around to subtitling it in American. Subtitled version via an astute commenter.

Until then, I'm pleased to present you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right you'll know, and if you're wrong you'll see a video forwarded by a reader named Jonathan in which somebody is clearly losing his mind.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and whatever you do, don't rush.


--BSNYC/RTMS





1) Which of the following is not an actual character from the upcoming Travel Channel bicycle messenger series, "Triple Rush?"









(Sammy Hagar couldn't ride 55 either.)

2) After ticketing a cyclist in a Central Park speed trap, police then went to his house and apologized.





(Note the yellow arm band. Did aliens give Hagar the idea for the LiveStrong bracelet way back in 1984?)


3) Sammy Hagar claims to have been visited by aliens.



4) According to the above article, "the elegant, triple-triangle design created by the unusual weld of the seat stays " is "an old trick pioneered by GT that lends added strength to one of the bike's weakest points." Is this true?




5) In the exciting world of bicycle inner tubes, square is the new round.




6) Cycling clothier Rapha is branching out into:







7) Actor Ethan Suplee does not technically wear spandex, because Champion Systems clothing is actually made of:

--???



***Special Gesticulation-Themed Bonus Question***

(Best Made Company owner hard at work not actually making anything.)

This hand gesture can best be described as the:

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Dunne Deal: Cog-spiracy Theory

In "curating" this blog, I generally endeavor to be humorous, but there is a time for laughter and then there is a time for whatever the opposite of laughter is. (It's a common misconception that crying is the opposite of laughter, but many scientists now believe its opposite is actually sneezing and farting at the same time.) This is one of those times. In fact, I'm sneezing and farting even as I type this, for I have recently uncovered a government conspiracy so insidious it makes the Kennedy assassination look like a half-assed game of three-card monty.

Submitted, the following article, which I recently noticed on the Urban Velo:

So what does this mean? I'll tell you what it means. It means the government plans to make cassettes prohibitively expensive in a diabolical attempt to force everybody to ride "fixies:"

"So why would they want to do that?," you ask. Well, to truly understand why you also have to understand the government--also known as "the Man," who will be played in this post by acclaimed actor Griffin Dunne:

Here's what we know:

FACT

Located in Washington, DC, the government consists of three branches: the legislative, executive, and judicial:

FACT

Of the "people" who comprise the three branches, the legislative and executive are all extraterrestrials, while the judicial are hyper-intelligent lizard people who hail from the lost continent of Atlantis:

(Associate Justice of the Supreme Court Antonin Scalia)

That last fact explains not only the so-called "scales" of justice, but also lends additional insight into the controversial "Mothra vs. Godzilla" decision of 1961.

FACT

The government hates bicycles, because they know that David Byrne holds the key to solving the world's energy crisis on which the extraterrestrials and the lizard people depend in order to keep humankind in their thrall, and also because he doesn't own a car:

("I own a car. No, just kidding, I really don't.")

Nice one, Mr. Byrne. You had me going there for a second.

So why would Griffin Dunne, in his best performance since he played Johnny Dangerously's kid brother in the 1984 comedy smash "Johnny Dangerously," want people to ride fixies instead of grown-up bikes with multiple gears? Well, by secretly fostering fixed-gear riding while outwardly condemning its thin veneer of rebellion, he/they/it will gradually eliminate us all through hillbombing "accidents" and alleycat "mishaps."

"Back in the day," if a government operative wanted to get rid of you, he'd sabotage your brakes. Now, the government's just brainwashing us all into not even installing the things in the first place.

Meanwhile, both here and abroad, the Forces of Fixiedom remain tragically oblivious to their fate. For example, a reader informs me that a London hipster has recently performed the world's most "epic" elephant trunk skid:


I guess this is what those fixed-gear freestylers mean when they talk about "progression."

By the way, if you look closely, you'll notice a rather nonplussed dog:

I'm assuming the owner has placed him there for scale.

By the way, if you've ever dreamed of owning your very own giant clown bike, now you can, for a number of readers have informed me that Crate and Barrel is now selling bicycles:


Not only that, but the "street-cred" comes standard:

Nothing says "street-cred" like "designed by republic bikes." Republic Bikes is to "street-cred" as "if it rains take the bus" is to "epic."

But as excited as I was by the clown bikes, I was even more excited by this sick-ass deal on galvanized planters in the DeLorean colorway:

I simply must "swoop" me some of those, yo. (In the world of hipster consumerism, when a company "drops" something it is your job to "swoop" it immediately.) Then, once they arrive, I will place a bunch of artisanal axes in them at jaunty angles, kind of like umbrellas. And speaking of axes, I recently noticed that the Best Made Douchery Factory has switched suppliers:

Previously, Best Made had been bedazzling a $50-ish dollar Snow & Neally Hudson Bay Camping Axe (I was informed of this by various readers--I know about as much about axes as I do about shrimp-sexing, which is to say nothing), but now they're using some company called Council Tools:

The Best Made American Felling Axe was designed in New York City
by Best Made Company, who worked hand-in-hand with Council Tools—a legendary fourth-generation American axe maker—to fabricate and revive the incomparable and quintessential American tool from the ground up, to our exact specifications. The polished high carbon American steel was selected by Best Made Company and drop forged by skilled Council Tool blacksmiths at their venerable forge on the shores of Lake Waccamaw, North Carolina. The pattern of the head is a traditional design known as the Dayton pattern, selected by Best Made because it is a time-tested icon of the American axe industry. The 35" Appalachian hickory helve was designed by Best Made and its slender, elegant properties insure that it will provide utmost efficiency and safety.

The Best Made fey hipser Axe of Idiocy apparently uses Council Tools's "Dayton pattern," and while you can also buy an axe in this pattern from Council Tools, the most you'll be able to pay for it is like $65:


It also won't be cursorily sanded by a gigantic douchebag:

"So what does this have to do with bikes?," you may be asking. Well, firstly, the Best Made CED (Chief Executive Douchebag) is an extraterrestrial. Secondly, Best Made's website now features cycling content, and it's only a matter of time before they "drop" some sort of cycling product or accessory for your "swooping" satisfaction. Here's how you ride the Best Made way:

So what is intuition exactly?

Intuition is a derivative of instinct, meaning it’s a natural state of behavior and requires no special training. Whether it can be improved upon is disputable, but often times—aside from the occasional light or dark beer dilemma—it remains idle in the comfort and convenience of everyday life.

Yes, intuition "remains idle in the comfort and convenience of everyday life"--assuming of course your everyday life is contrived, faux, overpriced, and bedazzled, like a Best Made axe. The rest of us rely on it daily, since it's quite helpful for mundane stuff like, oh, I dunno, riding your bike to work without getting killed.

But riding your bike to work is not the Best Made Way. The Best Made Way is taking stylized vacations from your stylized life, and using your intuition to find the optimum moment to buy a harmonica:

Following a hunch isn’t strictly reserved for dire circumstance. It can be tapped in situations as simple as making a quick pit stop at a small music shop to purchase a harmonica.

All You Haters Blow My Mouth Organ.

You won't find the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork stopping during his ride in order to buy a harmonica. Maybe--maybe--he'd consider buying a keytar, but that's as contrived as he's likely to get. By the way, another reader informs me that our friend can not only travel through time, but he can also change his "colorway" like a chameleon, as you can see in the advertisement below:


Not only is he now sporting a smart Performance catalog-esque jersey, but he's also willed his drivetrain onto the left-hand side of his bicycle:

A-meh-zing.

Indeed, so ubiquitous is our friend that I keep expecting him to get a Craigslist "missed connection." It hasn't happened yet, but I did think this one was noteworthy:


brown sweater getting burrito or maybe taco; glasses angular nose - w4m - 24 (williamsburg bedford ave)
Date: 2011-03-22, 9:57PM EDT

i rode my bike down bedford ave after work, taking in the scenery, and saw you, a HOT DUDE, hot enough to leave such an impression on a fleeting ride past the endless summer truck. you were wearing a brown sweater, had circular glasses (?), brown hair, an angular nose (see: subject line), and looked like how i imagined "COLLEGE T.A." types would look while in middle school. were you getting a taco? a burrito? a red jarrito? i will perhaps never know...

I think it's fairly obvious from the description who that "HOT DUDE" is:


In fact, I actually considered turning her in, since Craigslist now includes the following in their "missed connections" posts:

Please report suspected exploitation of minors to the appropriate authorities

But then I remembered that Harry Potter is like 35 now and can most likely fend for himself.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Feeling Small: Big Tickets and Tiny Houses

When I was much younger, I enjoyed music that fostered in me a deep contempt for conformity as well as a suspicion of government institutions and authority figures.

In other words, I was a huge Madonna fan.

Sure, as an American I was oppressed only inasmuch as Al Gore's crazy wife wanted to censor my records, but nevertheless it seemed the height of injustice at the time. Over the years, I have abandoned many of the trappings of my petty adolescent rebellion (or re-"meh"-llion). I've sold my collection of Madonna "cassingles," I've recorded over my VHS copy of the cinema classic "Who's That Girl?," and I've relegated my pointy cone bra to the deepest recesses of my underpants drawer. Nevertheless, I still can't rid myself of my fundamental suspicion, which is this:

They don't like you.

So who's "They" anyway? Well, they're the forces of conformity and cultural vapidity of course: Tipper Gore, Ryan Seacrest, people who wear fitted caps, men who wear cologne and heavy gold bracelets, and so forth. Even without my armful of vacuum cleaner o-rings and my pointy cone bra, I know that they can smell my outsider status just as plainly as I can smell their Drakkar Noir. I've often tried to convince myself that my attitude is juvenile and inappropriate for a person my age. (I'm 76.) I've also tried to dismiss it as residual insecurity from my teenage years. However, even as an adult father of 19 and grandfather of 36 (all named Madonna, by the way), the evidence is overwhelming that they really don't like me--or you, or any of us.

Consider the latest chapter in the Great New York City Bicycle Crackdown, in which radar gun-wielding police recently ticketed cyclists in Central Park for a nonexistent 15mph speed limit:

To me, the most shocking revelation in this article is that the police actually possess some sort of futuristic gun that can tell them how fast stuff is going, since I always thought the only guns they carried were the ones that killed people. I find the existence of these so-called "radar guns" very encouraging. Not only are they non-lethal, but just imagine how much better the lives of all New Yorkers could be if they'd actually point them at cars and trucks--you know, the speeding vehicles that keep running people over and killing them--instead of at people exercising in the park. Because as they're using their radar guns now, it's the equivalent of having a cancer cure and only administering it to completely healthy dogs and cats.

Anyway, I can only draw one conclusion from all of this:

They don't like you.

From a cycling perspective, I'm deeply ashamed of New York City, which, after flirting with bike friendliness, has apparently instead settled on a policy of being completely bike-tarded. I'm also ashamed of myself, for after traveling to Austin and then to Seattle I found myself only happy to be home and in fact actually enjoying it. The snow was finally gone, the weather had finally improved, and I could once again enjoy the chain pharmacies and "dollar stores" and pizza places claiming to be the "original" Ray's for which New York is justly famous. Clearly though, I'm a sucker for forgetting that they don't like me and for not escaping when I had the chance, and it's only a matter of time before I end up serving a 20 year prison term for operating a bicycle in excess of 5mph without wearing full body armor.

So whither goest you (or however you'd say it) if you seekest true bike-friendliness? Well, American cyclocrossers would have you believe that Belgium is a cycling paradise, though in most cases their knowledge of that country goes no further than liking the beer and owning a Ridley. Still, a reader did just forward me an image of someone he claims is "the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork's Belgian cousin," so they may not be so far off:

Arguably any culture that can produce that is highly enlightened as far as cycling is concerned.

Somewhat less enlightened is Australia--though I suppose that's unfair to say, since I'm basing that conclusion on only two things:

1) Their nationwide bicycle helmet law (I hear you have to wear them even when you're thinking about riding a bicycle);

and

2) The fact that I don't understand them.

See, as a typical American, not only do I have a massively self-important victim complex over stupid things like album labeling and traffic tickets, but I also find other countries highly confusing. On the confusing spectrum, the countries that don't speak English are extremely confusing, whereas the countries that do speak English but are not America are merely very confusing. But of those very confusing English-speaking countries, the most confusing is Australia.

Take that Fyxomatosis guy, for example. Not only do I have no idea what "Fyxomatosis" means (I think it's a particularly virulent strain of hipster halitosis), but he also sends me emails from time to time and I can't make heads or "pants yabbies" out of those, either. Just this morning in fact I awoke to an email from him in which he called me a "cunt" like eight times, and besides "cunt" the only other words I understood were "Bruce," "shits," and "Australia." On top of that, you can't just email back and say, "What the hell are you talking about?," since on top of everything else Australia is all screwy with the time and their day is our night and our night is their day and you don't get a reply for like a week.

Anyway, eventually I just ran the damn thing through an online English-to-Australian translator, and I finally figured out he was asking me to mention some sort of ride he's putting together, so here you go:

I should mention I don't understand what this event is either, since as an American I also have no concept of "bike share." (Americans don't even understand the concepts of either "bicycling" or "sharing" by themselves, so when you actually combine the two we become hostile.) Still, I'm obliging Fyxomatosis guy, but only because I don't want him to keep calling me a "cunt." So there you go, Fyxomatosis guy, and best of luck with the event--or, as they say in Australia, "Go get your 'roo stick stuck in a Sheila, you vulva-breathed Bruce face." (I don't know how Australians even manage to communicate with each other at all without all their emails winding up in spam folders. Then again, everything's backwards there, so in Australia they probably think "spam" means "inbox.")

By the way, if you don't believe me about Australians being foul-mouthed, just take a look at this Australian eBay auction that was forwarded to me by a reader:

Once again, I have no idea what the seller is saying:

Hey guys and girls, up for sale is my 2007 (before the stupid integrated seatpost) FUJI TRACK PRO!
You'll notice, just by looking at the frame, that it has a custom paint job, which was done by Spray Ya Bike in Melbourne. It's gold, and has the word 'F**K' sprayed on the side in a black and glitter paint. The idea for this was that you could change the word fuji to f**k with just a little bit of texta, so when I got the custom paint, I went for the sparkly f**k, for lols.
The frame is very light, being alloy, and the fork is light AND strong, being carbon. Don't say carbon isn't strong, I've been hit over the head with carbon forks at my lbs and they didn't break.
The frame size is 58, which is the measurement center to top on the seat tube, and center to center on the top tube. This is the LARGE frame by fuji. The fork and rear bridge are undrilled, but, like, if you wanted to put a brake on there, you could drill it out easily enough, your local bike shop could do it for you.
Since it is a track bike, you can only run a ss or fixed gear hub on there, so it's not a road frame. Also, the geometry is very tight, very aggressive, and very racy, which is expected from a track bike.
The entire bike was $1600 new, and for just the frame with such a sweet custom paint job ($280), this is a reasonable Buy It Now price.
This has been raced in alleycat races and skidded in skid comps (my mate Ferg said I came 7th, but I was a little drunk that afternoon so I don't remember).
It's a quick beast, and is in good condition, except for a few tiny paint chips (the main one is pictured, it's on the top tube)
There is also a tiny dent from a barslap, but that was through tape, and I couldn't really get a photograph to show it, due to it's size (a few mm across, probably 1mm in)

Located in Narre Warren, pick up from Narre OR Armadale, but I can deliver within the S/E suburbs of Melbourne for $30, or meet you in the city for a longneck of VB ;-)

Oh yeah, I'm selling this to fund my new project, need some $$$$


Though for some reason I'm oddly captivated by his mention of "my mate Ferg," who manages to remain cognizant enough to tell him things like where he placed in the skid competition. I wonder if all Australians have the equivalent of "my mate Ferg"--sort of a preternaturally sagacious Jeevesian character who shepherds them through their near-constant blackouts. I'd ask Fyxomatosis guy, but he'd just call me a "cunt" again.

Granted, "cunt" may not be the insult in Australia that it is here in Canada's underpants, but nevertheless I was always taught that those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones (nor should they walk around in their underpants). However, it's perfectly fine to throw stones if you live in a tiny house, like this one which was built by a man named Derek Diedricksen and forwarded to me by another reader:

As I've mentioned, I'm like totally "down" with "shed culture," so I perused this gallery with interest. However, as a hardcore member of the shed culture I was obviously disgusted by them, since they are to sheds what "tarck" bikes are to regular bikes. Honestly, I don't really understand the point of these things, unless you've been looking for a dwelling that splits the difference between a tent and a shack. This is why I'm relatively certain you'll soon be able to buy these from the douches at Best Made Co., though they will be ridiculously expensive and require a Best Made Mortgage. (A Best Made Mortgage has a 50% APR and comes in a handmade presentation showcase.) Then, you too can be a dick Diedricksen in a box:

Actually, I do think these would be a huge hit in Portland, since people there could finally realize their lifelong dream of "portaging" their own artisanally scavanged house on their artisanally fabricated "porteur" bikes. With the power to not only swarm but also settle, Critical Mass could become "Critical Gentrification."

I wonder if I could portage one on my Big Dummy...

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Effort Less Speed: Why You Need a New Bike

Spring is here, and with the warmth, sunshine, and allergy attacks comes bicycle racing season. By this point you should already have evaluated your strengths and weaknesses based on last season's performance, and now you should be implementing your new training program and moving forward in attaining this season's racing goals. That'll be $500, thank you for your patronage.

Sincerely,


BSNYC/RTMS Performance Systems, Inc.

Of course, even the best-laid and most costly training plans are worthless without the proper equipment. Did you know the bicycle on which you mounted your amateur lower-category racing campaign last year is already hopelessly out of date? It's true. Shimano put their shifter cables under the bar tape like three years ago now, and everybody knows you can't win with exposed cable housing. You also can't win if your bottom bracket is not "beefy" enough, and if you're using some antiquated threaded affair you might as well be lashing at your fellow dentists with a cold soba noodle.

That's why you need state-of-the-art performance if you're going to make the leap from Category 4 to Category 3, where you'll finally get to rub elbows, cross wheels, and crash with the "big boys" of the "meh"-loton. And evidently, you can't get more statier-of-the-artsier than the Specialized S-Works Venge (which should not be confused with Stan and Yosh Schmenge):

Don't believe me? Well, suck on this:

Ride & handling: Effortless speed and razor-sharp handling

Less than 24 hours after HTC-Highroad’s Matthew Goss’s win at San Remo on the McLaren Venge, we put the S-Works model through its paces on the very same roads. And it’s every bit as good as we’d hoped. It was just a shame the ride had to come to an end, and if we could have bundled it away in our suitcase we would have done.


In other words:

1) Matthew Goss won a race on it, and there's no way he would have won if he were using a different bicycle. By extension, this means you will win on it too;

2) It has EFFORTLESS SPEED! You know how you have to put effort into your current bicycle in order to make it move? Well, no more--this one goes by itself. What's that you say? You want proof? Well, does this look like a man who's making an effort?

Yeah, maybe...an effort to be AWESOME.

3) The handling is sharp as a razor. What does this mean exactly? Well, like a razor, you have to handle it incredibly gingerly or you'll wind up in a pool of blood. Sharp, dangerous, and unforgiving--now that's good bike.

Still not convinced? Well, clearly you're an idiot, but if you insist on "data" here you go:

Even more impressive was the razor-sharp handling on the descents. Tight bends were negotiated with confidence, thanks in part to the Venge's Specialized Turbo tyres and Roval Rapide SL45 carbon wheels. Vibration was largely offset by the S-Works SL carbon handlebars and FACT seatpost, and made for a smooth ride on the downslopes.

Right, so apart from the crabon wheels the bike's awesomeness comes mostly from the tires, handlebars, and seatpost--none of which can be changed on your current bike. So if you don't like your tires, buy a Specialized Venge Schmenge Happy S-Wanderer.

(Interestingly, the reviewer notes that "if we could have bundled it away in our suitcase we would have done." Ironically, the ability to do that is the only thing that would possibly make this bike worth almost $9,000.)

Speaking of pro cycling, everybody knows Alberto Contador tested positive for Clenbuterol and then blamed it on a piece of tainted steak. Well, a reader recently informed me that Clenbuterol is also abundant in Chinese pigs:

Subsequently, Contador issued a press release in which he announced that he "like totally forgot he had pork chops and not steak," and as evidence also included this photo from the post-stage team barbecue that took place on the evening in question:

His claims may not be kosher on a number of levels, but I'm sure they'll be good enough for the UCI.

But what's that you say? You don't want to emulate the pros? You say you don't want to spend $9,000 on a crabon razor and that the taste of Clenbuterol makes you dry-heave? Well, why not spend a mere $1,300 on a "gorgeously simple city bike," as forwarded to me by a reader:


Yes, whoever "curated" this review really knows what he's talking about:

Elian custom builds the frames by hand, and bike nerds will notice the elegant, triple-triangle design created by the unusual weld of the seat stays -- an old trick pioneered by GT that lends added strength to one of the bike's weakest points. And the parts are just as thoughtfully curated -- in the pictures above, note how the stem matches the color of the frame, giving the whole thing just the right amount of flash (which is to say, almost none); also note the drop-dead gorgeous Campagnolo cranks and chain-ring. Unlike a lot of single-speeds you see, this isn't a track bike. There's already mounts for both front and rear brakes. And, if you want customizations or different parts, Elian will happily oblige.

Right, GT pioneered that frame design in 1923, over 50 years before the company was founded:

He also makes a good point about how this isn't a track bike. He's right, it isn't--though it's almost exactly as practical. An alligator isn't a crocodile either, but they both make equally lousy house pets.

Of course, the worst part about having a $1,300 city bike is the fact that it's bound to get stolen sooner or later. In fact, even the most street-smartest cyclists occasionally fall victim to theft. Take bike messengers and the people who imitate them. Subsequent to "Monster Track" (the Lillith Fair of alleycats) somebody actually made off with the winner's prize:


We have put out an all-points bulletin on this ReLoad bag,stolen on Saturday March 12 at the Rock Star Bar. This was done literally in front of 300 plus people. Its the first place bag won by Crihs in this years monstertrack alleycat. Thing is,its the only one made in the world,and its mind-boggling to think that anyone in their right mind would even attempt to wear it. IF you have it, return it to anyone involved in monstertrack,no questions ask,or just risk being known as the worst person alive. This bag bleeds blood,sweat,tears hard work and Crihs and ReLoad deserve better!
Description:

black,with yellow trim,green “monstertrack” font yellow/lime ” XII” font

Repost this sh*t, and like i said,we catch you with this bag,we raining U locks on your face.dead fuckin serious


I too am astonished that the theft was "done literally in front of 300 plus people," because it must be extremely difficult to leave a crowded bar full of drunken hipsters while carrying a messenger bag. In fact, it's probably almost as difficult as leaving Citi Field with someone else's Mets cap. More astonishing is the outrage expressed in the post. I thought these guys were "outlaws," and you'd think they'd know that when you live by the petty crime, you "die" by the petty crime. Then again, I guess when someone doesn't obey the "code of the nerds streetzzz" it can be tremendously upsetting--like when your friend cheats at D&D.

Most confusing though is the request that "IF you have it, return it to anyone involved in monstertrack, no questions ask," which is then followed by "we catch you with this bag,we raining U locks on your face.dead fuckin serious." I think they might have tipped their hand a bit too soon with that last part. A little hint if you're trying to lay a trap for someone: Don't reveal the "what you're going to do to them" part until after you've caught them.

Naturally, it wasn't long before the inevitable fake Craigslist post emerged:

Which apparently managed to dupe at least a few people.

Trap-laying hint #2: If the ad uses the same image as the "stolen" post, then it's probably not legitimate.

So much for street smarts.

In any case, as the demand for bike messengers dwindles and alleycats become less like messenger races and more like ceremonies commemorating a bygone era (think Civil War reenactments), it will soon become necessary to build artificial habitats to preserve the messenger way of life. As the sixth wealthiest person in the world, I'm doing my part by investing in a planned and artificially-distressed community called Hermes Arms:

(Artist's rendering of the finished product.)

The messengers of today will feel perfectly at home there tomorrow. Just look at these amenities:

Highlights include:

Pregentrificationburg: A prefab "neighborhood" that evokes Williamsburg during that late-90s "magic hour" when "cool" people lived there but it hadn't yet become "cool;"

Divey's Dive Bar: Where residents will gather, drink, and tell war stories after a day of "working." Happy Hour starts at 10:30am, and there's even an early bird special.

Bacon Community Center: Endowed by celebrity messenger Kevin Bacon, there will be screenings of dated films such as MASH and Macaframa, as well as performances by tired old punk bands from the neighboring retirement community;

There's also a fully-functioning health center that will deny you care (no self-respecting messenger has health insurance), an arts and crafts center that will offer bag-making classes, a film production facility so residents can keep obsessively documenting their lifestyle just like they did on the "outside," and of course an aquatic therapy center to rehabilitate those fixie-ravaged knees.

Reserve your loft space today!

Monday, March 21, 2011

Hold Your Lane: Rough Crossings and Triple Rushes

This past Friday, I mentioned that the nebbishes of Park Slope are complaining about (and indeed suing the city over) the extra safety afforded them by their new bike lane, while elsewhere crossing the street remains a high-risk endeavor. I also incorporated video of a crosswalk on Coney Island Avenue to show just how treacherous these crossings can be, which was about as interesting as watching skin form over a pudding--assuming of course that the pudding was sitting in the middle of Coney Island Avenue and in danger of being splattered by light-running cars.

Anyway, as an inexperienced smugness videographer, I failed in two regards:

1) I did not place a cup of pudding in the middle of Coney Island Avenue in order to ratchet up the drama;

2) I did not also create a video of what it's like to cross the controversial Prospect Park West bike lane which would serve as a basis for comparison.

Fortunately, though, it turns out that smugness factory Streetsblog recently did post such a video (still no pudding, sadly), and here it is:



So there you have it. Amazingly, Park Slopers like this woman who looks like early man in a turtleneck:

and this man who looks like an undead Harpo Marx:

think that the Prospect Park West bike lane is too dangerous, while the rest of us are supposed to make do with the seven-second death scramble.

Seems fair to me. As long as they're happy.

Speaking of city planning, whilst utilizing the Twitter I came across the following review of the book I wrate, and while I wouldn't ordinarily subject you to literary criticism I must say that I found the last line deeply offensive:

Having based pretty much every important life decision I've ever made on reducing the likelihood that I will ever have to take a bus, it horrifies me to think that someone might actually opt for that mode of transport over simply affixing two pieces of plastic (or, if you're pretentious and irresistibly compelled to divest yourself of money, hammered metal) to his bicycle.

I've long been searching for the perfect antonym for "epic," and while I guess it's not technically an antonym in that it's a phrase instead of a word, I nevertheless think I may have found it in "If it rains take the bus."

After all, you won't catch bike messengers taking the bus--or using fenders for that matter. This is because their lives are the very definition of "epic" (assuming you're using the sixth definition, which is "risking your life in a fashionable manner without remuneration"), as you will soon see in the new Travel Channel reality show, "Triple Rush:"


Yes, it's even more of a rush than the last time a television production company tried to capture the excitement and irreverence of bringing things to people by bicycle, which was only a "Double Rush:"



If nothing else, "Double Rush" brings us back to a time when mountain bikes were still "edgy" and before they were relegated to the trunk racks of Nissan Pathfinders owned by people with a fondness for baggy shorts and bands like Godsmack, and at the same time affords us a clue of what cultural fate awaits the fixed-gear bicycle.

Of course, this being 2011, the latest iteration of the messenger TV show will take reality show form. (The sitcom was long moribund even before Charlie Sheen sounded its death knell with his latest meltdown.) However, even a reality show takes time to produce, so it's worth noting that this was probably "greenlit" while messengers were enjoying their latest fixed-gear-inspired burst of popularity, and before everyone got bored of them and started doing tricks on their "fixies" instead. Given this, and the fact that a "Triple Rush" is 50% more rush-y than a "Double Rush," it will be interesting to see if this latest show lasts 50% longer than its predecessor, or if it gets cancelled 50% faster.

This is not to say that "Triple Rush" doesn't have a lot going for it--it undoubtedly does, for it boasts a formidable cast. There's a token hipster:

As well as a token hipster:

And even a token hipster:

By the way, if you're a student of hipster mathematics, you probably figured out that:

Andrew = Dillon + Seven Years of Living in Williamsburg

If that was too easy for you, here's another one. What does X equal here?

Jenessa + Two Years of Being a Bike Messenger = X

If you answered "X = Heather," then you're correct:

Though X = Jenessa - All Her Teeth would also have been acceptable.

You've also got to give the Travel Channel credit for putting together a great website, for not only is there information about the show, but there's also lots of gritty real-world video about what it's like to be a messenger on the streetzzz. For example, I really enjoyed "Bike Messenger must-haves:"

"You really need to invest in good outdoor clothing."

That's right, you heard him--when you're out there on the streetzzz, be sure to wear clothing that was designed to be worn outside. So skip the silk pajamas, Kevin Bacon:

(Not appropriate messenger attire.)

Then there's the obligatory let's-brag-about-how-much-we-crash, which you'll find in "Worst bike accidents in NYC:"


"Just constant injury almost. It's just a dirty job."

I've watched countless messenger-themed videos at this point, and I still can't figure out if they think all the crashing is a good thing or a bad thing.

Anyway, if "Triple Rush" is a hit, hopefully the Travel Channel will spin off some other exciting shows about people's jobs, like "Venti Latte:"

"You really need to invest in a good apron. Just constant exposure to milk almost, it's definitely not a job for the lactose intolerant. If you don't think it's as hardcore as being a bike messenger then you never had to kick a homeless guy out of the bathroom."

After that they could do "Priority Mail:"

"You really need to invest in a good sun hat. Just constant exposure to anthrax almost, plus we deliver envelopes, use big bags, and work in foul weather just like bike messengers do. Sure, we have benefits and a union, but that doesn't make us any less hardcore. Taxis are nothing compared to a disgruntled coworker with an automatic rifle. Cute bike there, Quicksilver, come say 'hello' to David Berkowitz."

Speaking of "epic" (I was many paragraphs ago), cycledom's foremost purveyors of "epic," Rapha, are so profoundly "epic" that they have transcended videos of epic riding and have broken through into the rarefied world of epic soups:


Sure, you could just open up a can of Progresso--and if it rains, you could also take the bus.

Because you can't spell "recipe" without "epic." (Or without transposing the "p" and the "c.")