Bike Snob NYC

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Sharing, Themes, Costumes, and Other Reasons "Biking" Is Like Kindergarten

So I got one of those emails everyone's talking about. You know, the ones from the Internet? Here's what it said:

Get ready: May 27th is Citi Bike’s very first day. We’re launching with a preview week for Annual Members who already have their member keys. Keys for members who signed up before May 17th are in the mail now, which means they should arrive before the 27th.

I am ready. So where's my fucking key already?!? I need to put it on a key ring with a bottle opener on it, because everybody who rides a bike has a key ring with a bottle opener on it.

Oh, also, Citi Bike is having a party.

Save the Date!

Join us on June 2nd on the north side of Union Square in Manhattan from 11 am – 3 pm to celebrate the launch of Citi Bike. We’ll have music, food, a Citi Bike Street Skills learning zone where you can beef up your bike riding skills, plus some other fun special surprises.

Hmm. A four-hour party? Given the program's price structure, if you "share" a Citi Bike for the Street Skills learning zone and all the rest of it, this little shindig is going to cost you at least $96.

I wonder if the Street Skills learning zone will feature Citi Bike polo or even Citi Bike jousting to help people hone their bike-handling skillz. Regardless, Bike Snob Daily News should definitely partake, since she seems to have a pretty hard time riding these things. (Hint for BSDN: The Citi Bike is like your SE Draft, only less shitty.)

As for me, I'm a masterful bike-handler and all-around cyclist who is grace personified when falling off my bicycle into my own urine or simply taking a header off my folding bike while placing a phone call, so I don't need to visit the "Street Skills" learning zone. In fact, I now get to tell other people what to do, and to that end I've even recorded a whiny PSA-type lecture that will make you cringe:

Remember that Urban Cycling Hall of Fame? Yeah, it's going to be Allan Cumming, Brian Lehrer, and me. As for Shawn the Cabbie, if you were wondering why yellow cabs suck so much his advice should provide you with an explanation. I particularly liked when he said this:

"You have no space to...drop the passenger off safely. There is no way," to which he adds, "You have the same responsibility we have."

Actually, we don't have the same responsibilities you have, since you have a special license to drive people around the city in exchange for money. This places additional responsibilities on you, including dropping passengers off safely, as inconvenient as that may be:

(c) Pickup and discharge of passengers by taxis, commuter vans and for-hire vehicles.
Operators of taxis, commuter vans and for-hire vehicles may, in the course of the lawful operation of
such vehicles, temporarily stop their vehicles to expeditiously pick up or discharge passengers at the
curb in areas where standing or parking is prohibited. Taxis, commuter vans and for-hire vehicles,
while engaged in picking up or discharging passengers must be within 12 inches of the curb and
parallel thereto, but may stop or stand to pick up or discharge passengers alongside a vehicle parked
at the curb only if there is no unoccupied curb space available within 100 feet of the pickup or
discharge location; however, picking up or discharging passengers shall not be made:
(1) Within a pedestrian crosswalk.
(2) Within an intersection, except on the side of a roadway opposite a street which intersects but
does not cross such roadway.
(3) Alongside or opposite any street excavation when stopping to pick up or discharge
passengers obstructs traffic.
(4) Under such conditions as to obstruct the movement of traffic and in no instance so as to
leave fewer than 10 feet available for the free movement of vehicular traffic.
(5) Where stopping is prohibited.
(6) Within a bicycle lane.
(7) Within horse-drawn carriage boarding areas.

Furthermore, your passenger is also responsible for following New York State law with regard to exiting a vehicle into traffic, and you might want to remind them of that:

Opening and closing vehicle doors. No person shall open the door of a motor vehicle on the side available to moving traffic unless and until it is reasonably safe to do so, and can be done without interfering with the movement of other traffic, nor shall any person leave a door open on the side of a vehicle available to moving traffic for a period of time longer than necessary to load or unload passengers.

So, yeah, obviously we're not stupid and we're going to look out for you, but technically a lot of this stuff actually is your problem. I realize you think we're supposed to treat you like emergency response vehicles and stay out of your way, but keep in mind you're not putting out a fire. You're just taking someone to the airport.

Meanwhile, in Portland, a reader tells me that the "anti-fluoride lobby" has managed to keep the stuff out of their water, even though they've apparently got the shittiest teeth in the nation:

Oregon has one of the highest rates of tooth decay in the nation, and yet, the state's biggest city will remain an outlier, thanks to the remarkable efforts of the anti-fluoride lobby, a non-partisan alliance of paranoiacs. "It’s as if an Occupy protest, a talk on artisanal cheesemaking, and a Tea Party rally were all accidentally booked at the same hotel ballroom," Marty Smith wrote in the Willamette Week. Relying on a handful of inapplicable research studies and the testimony of dubious experts, the anti-fluoridians have managed to keep scientific reality at bay. (For more on the scientific controversy, read Jake Blumgart's piece at Slate.)

Though in Portland it's not called having "shitty teeth." It's called having an "artisanal smile."

In fairness to the kooks though, it may not be just the lack of fluoride in the water that's wreaking havoc with their grills. It's also worth noting that people in Oregon love crystal meth, which isn't exactly great for your pearly browns either:

I won't link to any photos of crystal meth mouths, because the preliminary image search I did made me violently ill. So instead, here's a naked lady on a recumbent:

You're welcome.

In any case, with Portland's Pedalpalooza right around the corner, I'm waiting for the bad teeth theme ride. I don't see one on the schedule yet, though there is a Dave Matthews ride in the offing, which is almost as sickening:

I know there are some Dave Matthews fans in Portland! We will unite and ride around together blasting DMB as loud as possible while talking about our undying love for the greatest man to walk the earth. Hacky sacks and bros welcome.

Or, if you prefer an ironic urban veneer over your blindingly white music-themed ride, you can opt for this one instead:

RUN-D.M.C. VS. BEASTIE BOYS
SE 50th and Division
7:00pm, Rolling out @ ~7:30
Calling all B-Boys & Fly-Girls!

Yes, yes y'all and we don't stop!

Kicking off Pedalpalooza with a bang for the 2nd year!

This is a Slow rockin' ride BUMPING my favorite Run-DMC and Beastie Boys jams along with some Funky Fresh Old School Hip-Hop (think NYC early-mid 80s) plus a couple of G-Funk bangers thrown in for good measure as we roll around the "mean" streets of P-Town.

SLOW pace with occational dancing stops.

R.I.P. Jam Master Jay (Jason Mizell) & MCA (Adam Yauch)
End of an era Baby . . .

Break Dancers: BYO Cardboard

Bring Lights! Rock ADIDAS! Ride at own risk!

In Portland, a "B-Boy" is a Bard graduate.

And these are "fly girls:"

The Portland "fly girl" scene has yet to produce its Jennifer Lopez, but that's not for lack of trying:

Portlanders' libidos have been so sublimated by bikes that they find lengthy trackstands far more arousing than robust posteriors.

Anyway, if neither of these theme rides are for you, you can also just ride around eating random vegetation and hope you don't die:

FOOD FORAGING!
Vera Katz Statue, SE Eastbank Esplanade and Main St
5:30pm - 8:00pm
Learn about wild and freely available domesticated food available around Portland.

We recommend bringing collection bags and scissors and/or a knife. Most of these plants (and fungus, if we're lucky) will need to be cooked before you eat them, so don't rely on this ride for immediate dinner. Our route will depend on what's in season, but plan to cover a lot of ground.

I predict the Food Foraging! theme ride splits off into two subgroups: the Tripping Balls! theme ride, and the Race To The ER! theme ride.

Lastly, in pro cycling news, Belkin (presumably the company that makes the routers and crap) may take over sponsorship of the team that was Rabobank:

"We have serious interest and indeed see the opportunities to increase our brand awareness through cycling and to show what the world we do. It is premature to say that there is an agreement,” a Belkin spokesman told De Telegraaf.

I don't know what kind of company would possibly put money into pro cycling team sponsorship in 2013, so I can only assume someone at Belkin ate some ambiguous fungi while food foraging.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Mercredi is the French word for the day Wednesday and is named after the Roman Deity Mercury.

First, I want to remind you that I'll be appearing absolutely nowhere anytime soon:

(Intergalactic supernova black hole space vacuum, where I might as well be for the foreseeable future as far as anybody's concerned.)

Maybe at some point if I get really bored and lonely I'll go hang out at a bridge somewhere and give copies of my book away (which I realize sounds like something you might do before actually jumping off of said bridge, which I don't plan to do, since no matter how bad things get at least I don't live in Cleveland) but otherwise you might as well forget that I have a corporeal existence.

I think I speak for everybody when I say that this is a tremendous relief.

Secondly, this:

Clearly, at least some members of the Hasidic community want to play up their endearingly comic Mel Brooksian image:

While simultaneously downplaying the bike-hating thug image that has been gaining momentum as of late:

I should stress that I am in no way implying that this man represents the entire Hasidic community, which I suppose is the point of the "Unite the Beards" video, but frankly some of this explanation is unnecessary. For example, this:

Uh, nobody thinks they're different. They're both insular groups who all dress the same, and whom the rest of the city mostly just sees as a bunch of nerds. Whether it's in the name of "G-d" or in the name of artisanal cocktails is incidental. I realize the hipsters and the Hasidim think their disagreements take on the ethno-nationalist proportions of "The Troubles" or the disputes over the West Bank, but I can assure them that to the rest of us it's basically like watching the kid from the chess club arguing with the kid in the "Star Trek" shirt over the technical specifications of the Millennium Falcon.

Nevertheless, they even had an "Ask A Jew!" segment:

Looks like we missed it, but given the mindset and background of the typical hipster I imagine the first and only inquiry was, "So, like, do you guys really have sex through a sheet?," after which everybody just shrugged because they didn't have any more questions and went home.

The other big news in Williamsburg is that the people who moved there two (2) years ago and think Jews have sex through a sheet don't like the people who hang out in Williamsburg now:

"The people who actually live on this block don't go to these places. I don't go to the Wythe, I don't go to Output," said Wythe Avenue resident Kate, 26, who declined to give her last name but said she'd lived on the stretch for the past two years and was dismayed by the changes.

Though to be honest, some of these complaints are warranted, since the neighborhood seems to be drawing European pedophiles:

Within a few minutes, young Italian and Belgian visitors passed by on Wythe Avenue on a recent afternoon.

"I read Williamsburg is one of the youngest parts of New York," said a 26-year-old Italian, David Barco, "so I came here."

Eew.

By the way, I apologize for my insensitive comments about Europeans, and indeed I'm already receiving complaints, although they're not exactly the kind of complaints I expected:

In any case, I'd say that Brooklyn officially became the most annoying place in New York sometime in 2010, and 2013 will officially be remembered as the year it eclipsed Portland, OR and became the most annoying place in the United States.

But when it comes to controversies that have been blown all out of proportion, you can't get more disproportionate than bike share, which is now officially trying to kill old people:

The Post eagerly reported this morning that a 92-year-old man very nearly lost his life after helpless emergency workers became lost in a labyrinth of Citi Bike racks as they tried to rescue the ailing nonagenarian from the 20th floor of his Greenwich Village co-op building.

“The ambulance couldn’t even come up to the building," Lee Liss, the victim's wife, told the tabloid.
"The ambulance couldn’t get to him. These bike racks are a detriment.”

This would indeed be a serious problem if it wasn't absolute bullshit:

But a quick call to the fire department revealed that this simply wasn't the case—not by a long shot, said Frank Gribbon, an FDNY spokesperson.

"The fire units on scene had absolutely no problem accessing this building," he said. Well, surely paramedics have had trouble maneuvering around other Citi Bike kiosks?

"There have been no problems," Gribbon said, exasperated. "None."

Though the Fire Commissioner himself has a different story:

Contrary to a news report today, FDNY EMT’s had absolutely no problems responding to and providing medical care to a patient on Sunday on West 13th Street in Manhattan. The FDNY has been working closely with DOT on this initiative and we have not experienced any problems nor do we anticipate issues operating at or near bike racks that have been situated on city streets.

Oh, wait, no he doesn't.

It's hard to imagine why it would be more difficult to reach a building with a bike rack in front of it than it is to reach one with a bunch of cars, trucks, vans, and SUVs parked in front of it. It seems to me that the worst case scenario would be just driving the fire truck right through the fucking bike rack, which would be pretty awesome to watch.

Still, it's important to remember that cyclists are the scum of the earth, and that when they're not trying to kill old people they're murdering ducklings, as forwarded by a reader:

If they would look up and notice the environment around them, maybe there would not be so many accidents or lights run, or the killing of little innocent ducklings trailing behind their mothers.

Actually, it's true, we do ride with our heads down so we don't ride into giant potholes. However, as we do, it's tough not to notice all the fucking roadkill caused by cars!

Anyway, so what actually happened to the duck?

Ducks were crossing the road on the northwest side of the lake. My sister witnessed one of the riders run over one of the baby ducks and then heard the bicyclist utter a curse word.

The duckling was killed (smashed).

That's a shame. I'm guessing the curse he uttered was, "Fuck a duck."

It's certainly telling that, on the occasion of a "Ride of Silence to honor those bicyclists who have been injured or killed by motorist[s]," this person's biggest concern is the death of a duck:

I wonder who will have a memorial ride, walk or any other observance for the baby ducks that are killed by cyclists?

Uh, five words, lady:

PORTLAND DEAD DUCK THEME RIDE!!!

And yeah, we'll get around to mourning all the baby ducks killed by cyclists just after we finish honoring all those squirrels:

How Rolf Deitrich and his paired spoke technology have managed to avoid the wrath of PETA for this long is beyond me.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

"Fudi Dudi, We Don't Like To Party..."

Let's face it, none of us are getting any younger. I know I'm not. I'm actually getting older, at the alarming rate of one (1) year per annum, which means that in a thousand years I could be dead.

Dead.

In the meantime, one consequence of growing older is the onset of old people problems. For example, this morning I got mud splatter on my white linen pants because I was riding a folding bike without fenders:

It doesn't get much more old people problem-y than that--unless you then wet the linen pants.

And if you have a problem with the fact that I put on white linen pants and ride around on a folding bike, I'll have you know that I'm an author goddammit, and by the time I'm a thousand years old like this guy I too will be sporting white seersucker suits on a daily basis:

(Tom Wolfe eats imaginary footlong submarine sandwich.)

That's the expression of a man who just wet his pants.

Speaking of folding bikes, here's a comment somebody left yesterday:

Anonymous said...

Dearest Snobby,

If you ended up driving an automobile to Boston why did you have to take a silly folding bike?

You could've taken a proper unbroken bike. You might've had to remove a wheel or maybe even two wheels, but as we live in the wonder days of space-age quick release hubs, you could've broken down and reassembled a man's bike as quickly and easily as messing about with a dopey folding bike.

You then could've conducted your Boston affairs with some personal dignity and returned some courtesy to your hosts by displaying common decency and respect to your hosts.

May 20, 2013 at 8:53 PM

A fair question. Let me explain it to you. My visit to Boston lasted about 16 hours. I spent half that time sleeping and watching TV in my hotel room. The remainder of that time I spent BRA-ing, eating, schmoozing, and so forth, including about two (2) hours of total saddle time. If you rendered this visit as a pie chart, the amount of time I spent on the bike would look like the tiny sliver your aunt requests because she's dieting.

Now, when you get older you get smarter, and when you get smarter you don't bother putting a full-sized bike on your roof rack where it sits there out in the wind burning additional gas for 200 miles just so you can putz around Boston for a couple of hours. You also don't bother taking the wheels off and putting the seats down and doing all that nonsense to put a full-size bike inside the car, where it takes up lots of space and where it's going to be the first thing to go if someone breaks into your car.

No, what you do is you take the half a second to throw a clown bike in the rumble seat and then you're done with it.

Of course, had some sort of Fred ride been in the offing I would have put one of those bikes with the curved handlebars like they use in the Tour de France on the roof, and I would have packed various stretchy outfits for every conceivable weather condition, and a pair of those special shoes that click into your pedals, and yes, a helment, and all the rest of it.

But one wasn't, so I didn't. Instead, I did as little work as possible, which is the one (1) lesson I've learned from many years of bike racing.

As for the bit about "conducting my affairs with some personal dignity" and "returning some courtesy to my hosts," I was in Boston for fuck's sake. Being dignified and courteous in Boston is like wearing a white suit to a mud wrestling match:

("I daresay they'd have an easier time of it without all that mud.")

In fact, it's almost as ridiculous as the idea of an "Urban Cycling Hall Of Fame:"

At first I thought it was ridiculous to establish a hall of fame for people who ride their bikes in the city. Isn't that sort of like having a Straphanger Hall of Fame for people who ride the subway, or a Pedestrian Hall of Fame for the ballsiest jaywalkers? But then I took a closer look:

Ah, now I get it. It's not an Urban Cycling Hall of Fame, it's an Urban Cycling Fashion Hall of Fame. This makes sense. All trends inevitably reach a point in their lifecycles at which the participants all decide to give each other handjobs in front of an audience, and it would appear that "urban cycling" has finally reached that auspicious moment.

Anyway, the selection committee also consists of various hardened street veterans, some of whom have been riding bikes in the city for as long as six (6) years:

By the way, if you're wondering where the Urban Cycling Hall of Fame will be located, it's on an RV:

Chrome ONE, Chrome’s 1976 GMC motor home and collection mobile will tour the country in search of cycling artifacts and video stories. Amanda Sunvador will be at the wheel, determined to make her way to as many events as possible to collect artifacts and meet, listen, and ride with the community.

Sorry, an RV headed for Interbike:

Chrome ONE has one objective: to collect artifacts and video stories for the UCHOF. Artifacts can come in many forms: jerseys, race numbers, frames, posters, race flyers, and everything in between. We are collecting artifacts throughout the year, and the final stop will be at Interbike, in Las Vegas, for the first exhibit of the Urban Cycling Hall Of Fame. In conjunction with Interbike, the First Annual Urban Cycling Hall of Fame Awards Ceremony will be held in Las Vegas at the Double Down to celebrate the inductees into the UCHOF’s first class.

Because when you think of hardcore urban cycling, you think of giant trade shows.

Anyway, you can (and probably should) dismiss my rantings on this or really any subject as the ramblings of an old fusspot who wears linen pants, but the last thing I'll say on the subject is that any "Urban Cycling Hall of Fame" should probably start and end with Bill Cunningham:

Hmmm, he knows fashion and he's been riding a bike in New York City "since forever?" I'd say he's got all these other characters licked.

Meanwhile, I've been thinking about establishing a Fred Hall of Fame, and in my search for inductees I found myself sifting through the results of last Sunday's Gran Fondo New York (sorry, the Campagnolo Gran Fondo New York). As a slow cyclist myself I always check to see who finished "DFL" so I can give him a mental "high five," and according to the results the last rider finished in 2,230th place:

Even finishing DFL is a formidable accomplishment considering it was raining all day. However, it's worth noting that according to the last press release I received from the Gran Fondo they had over 6,000 starters:

More than 6,000 cyclists from over 70 countries including the United States, Italy, United Kingdom, Brazil, Canada, Germany, Russia, Jamaica, Israel, and Poland, among others, will gear up for the third annual Campagnolo Gran Fondo New York, a competitive cycling event based on the popular Italian racing style and the only one of its kind in the New York/New Jersey region.

This can mean only one thing, which is that almost 4,000 Freds are still lost and at large in the greater New York City metropolitan area.

I hope the Gran Fondo plans to send a "broom wagon" out to tranquilize and collect these Freds, because they're probably rummaging around in people's garbage even as I type this.

Still, it's not as bad as what happened at a recent Fred ride in the UK:

Toby Hockley was knocked of his bike during the Boudicca Sportive in Norfolk on Sunday, allegedly by Emma Way who didn’t stop and later tweeted: ‘Definitely knocked a cyclist off his bike earlier – I have right of way he doesn’t even pay road tax! #bloodycyclists’. Her account was later deleted.

Wow. Politically correct-minded people are working to abolish the word "retard" as an insult, but the fact is that language is evolving, and I feel strongly that we should preserve the word as a slur but apply it exclusively to motorists. Because if you've got a better word for a woman who hits a cyclist and then Tweets about it then I'd like to hear it.

Lastly, there's apparently a guy in Williamsburg, Brooklyn who will make you some custom perfume:

I’ve been described as one of the most innovative perfumers of the 21st Century. I’ve won awards, my work is in museums and countless people in all civilized parts of the globe enjoy the unique scents I create.

So why would you want custom perfume? Because your smell is "an invisible portrait of who you are:"

A custom blended perfume is the height of luxury & the ultimate expression of individuality. Choosing exactly what ingredients you want in your perfume gives you a scent that smells like you & it is truly an invisible portrait of who you are. And you will have a scent like no other on earth.

This confused me. I thought your scent just came out of your body naturally, and that all the fragrances were to disguise it. It seems to me that if you want a scent that "smells like you" all you need to do is refrain from bathing for a few days. Apparently not. Anyway, he'll need a few things from you before he begins:

BEFORE THE APPOINTMENT: WHAT I NEED FROM YOU

In order that this experience is as gracious as possible for all concerned there are a few things I request from possible clients before an appointment is scheduled.

Right, just give him a pair of your dirty underpants, some underarm clippings, and a scranus sample and he'll produce for you your very own custom "Eau de Frumunda."

I think I just found the first inductee for the Urban Douchebag Hall of Fame.

Monday, May 20, 2013

Hi! I Was In Boston And Now I'm Not!

So there I was on Friday evening, sitting on the sofa, clutching my Amtrak ticket, and preparing to board my train to Boston a mere 13 hours later. (Yes, I was SO EXCITED to go to Boston I was just going to sit there all night bug-eyed and wired until it was time to leave, like Robs Fords on crack.) Then, this happened:

Fortunately, nobody was killed, but unfortunately it meant there would be no Amtrak between New York and Boston. But also fortunately, I OWN A CAR:

Nevertheless, I ran through my choices:

1) Fly To Boston:

For laughs I actually looked into this, and I could have purchased a round-trip on the Delta shuttle for just under $900;

2) Ride My Bike To Boston:

According to Gargle Maps it's exactly 214 miles between my home and Landry's where the event was taking place, and as much as I enjoy bicycle cycling, believe it or not I also have a fucking life;

3) Take A Bus To Boston:

Uh, no freaking way:

4) Drive THE CAR THAT I OWN:

This seemed like the best option. On the negative side, I'd be putting additional mileage and wear-and-tear on my vintage automobile

(The call me "Chitty Chitty Douche Douche.")

But on the plus side, I'd be able to sound my old-timey horn at any pesky cyclists I might encounter, and perhaps even shake my fist at them for good measure.

So driving it was. I made good time too, reaching Boston a full 20 minutes earlier than I would have had I traveled by bicycle:

That old Jew-hater Henry Ford really knew what he was doing.

Oh, it should also go without saying that I threw my folding bike into the horseless carriage, and once I got to Boston I unfurled it and took to the streets--which are covered with these:

(Oh, screw you.)

I was very much not wearing a helment, and I had two very good excuses:

1) The only way to look stupider on a folding bike is to wear a helment while riding it;

and

2) I knew nothing bad was going to happen to me that day.

This isn't to say I never wear a helment; I do, but only when it looks right with my outfit. For example, if I put on the stretchy Fred gear, I always top it off with a helment. However, if I'm wearing normal pants, I skip the helment.

That's my entire criteria.

I'm sure someone somewhere is shocked and appalled that I'm so reckless and irresponsible. But guess what? Riding a bike without a foam hat on my head is by far the wildest thing I ever do in my life. (The second-wildest thing is not bothering to button my pants again after I go to the bathroom.) Go read Keith Richard's autobiography, then think about some bike blogger riding a folding bike without wearing a helment, and then tell me if you still think it's a big deal.

You know what's actually crazy? Being this fat and smoking crack is crazy:

(Robs Fords having his half-hourly heart attack.)

So just relax already.

Anyway, I defied death and made it Landry's, bare head and all. First, I met some lovely people who wanted to share with me the latest in artisanal pant cuff protection:

(Disembodied prehensile foot.)

See how that works?

I look forward to trying it as soon as I can be bothered to put on shoes. (Or, for that matter, pants.)

Anyway, by that time a goodly-sized group was ready to tour the local bicycle infrastructure:

We were led by Urban Adventours, distinguished by their Day Glo foam bike hats and wheelbrows:

The weather was delightful, the warm breeze tickled my thinning, helmentless hair, and I learned a lot about Boston. For example, here we are in the park known as the "Emerald Necklace," designed by celebrated landscaper Frederick Law Olmsted:

If you ever find yourself cycling in Boston, be sure not to confuse the "Emerald Necklace" with the nearby "Pearl Necklace," designed by celebrated manscaper Mario Cipollini:

(Cipollini displays his other pearly whites.)

Unless you actually do want to visit the Pearl Necklace, in which case all I'll tell you is that you'll find it under an overpass and it will take 4-6 minutes to complete.

Here's a picture of someone taking a picture of me taking a picture of someone taking a picture of me taking a picture of someone, etc.:

And here's what happened afterwards:

Then I blacked out, and I woke up six minutes later wearing a pearl necklace.

By the way, it's a good thing Dave was wearing his helment:

A helment offers you full protection against the impact of deeply profound cosmic revelations and intense visual metaphors.

Speaking of helments, here are two more reasons I didn't need a hement. Firstly, we had this guy, who called out every single "obstacle," down to the sub-atomic level:

("Quark up!!!")

Also, we had a clergywoman on hand:

So in the event I did manage to sustain a fatal blow to the head, I knew that at least someone would be on hand to administer last rites.

I should at this point thank Esteemed Commenter Daddo One (aka "Andrew Steinhouse") for putting everything together, and here's pretty much the only picture I managed to take of him, shortly before we watched a gentleman on a crabon road bike fall over on the bike path because he couldn't get out of his clipless pedals:

Not only is ECDO a quick wit and a snappy dresser, but he also had a fuckload of pizza and beer waiting for us when we got back to the shop:

Unfortunately for the attendees, there's no such thing as free pizza and beer, so next came the relentless self-promotion as ECDO interviewed me about my book before a capacity crowd:

And when I say "capacity" I mean they were wishing at full capacity that they were someplace else:

In all, it was a lovely visit, and as I understand it there was even leftover pizza for a light pre-Fred ride breakfast the next morning:

(Mark from Landry's.)

I however, skipped out on the Fred ride, and by that time I was in Chitty Chitty Douche Douche, doing about 17mph on the Mass Pike, wearing a coonskin cap, and cranking the heavy shit:

That was some badass whistling--or as it's called now, "artisanal exhaling."

Thanks again to Esteemed Commenter Daddo One and Landry's Bicycles for the hospitality.

Friday, May 17, 2013

BSNYC Friday Bike To Work Day Grease Stain On Your Pant Cuff!

Firstly, one final reminder that I'll be in Boston tomorrow:

Come for the chips, stay for the dip.*

*[BSNYC Industries, LLC makes no warranty that there will be either chips or dip.]

Secondly, remember how the Mayors of Toronto, Robs Fords, said this?

"What I compare bike lanes to is swimming with the sharks. Sooner or later you're going to get bitten... Roads are built for buses, cars, and trucks, not for people on bikes. My heart bleeds for them when I hear someone gets killed, but it’s their own fault at the end of the day."

And you were all like, "What is he, smoking crack?"

Well it turns out he's totally smoking crack:

And the video of him actually smoking the crack can be yours for "six figures:"

Rob Ford, Toronto's conservative mayor, is a wild lunatic given to making bizarre racist pronouncements and randomly slapping refrigerator magnets on cars. One reason for this is that he smokes crack cocaine. I know this because I watched him do it, on a videotape. He was fucking hiiiiigh. It's for sale if you've got six figures.

I'm actually thinking of taking advantage of the favorable exchange rate by buying it, too, since CAD$100,000 is only like US$97,000:

That leaves me with like three grand to spend on crack.

Just kidding, I don't smoke crack. It's wack:

I don't like things that are wack.

Anyway, I've already been alerted to at least one crowdsourced funding campaign to purchase the video:

I'd suggest that, instead of giving it to the CBC, they simply throw a totally awesome Robs Fords crack movie screening party.

Until then, we'll just have to settle for videos of Fords just after smoking crack:

How his entire cardiovascular system has not simply blown up by now is beyond me. When it finally does happen though it's going to be big. Really big. Like "exploding a whale with dynamite" big:

I'd say that right now Robs Fords is an even bigger atomic threat to the United States than North Korea and Iran combined.

We're a crack rock and a box of Tim Horton's away from nuclear annihilation.

Meanwhile, today is Bike To Work Day in New York City, and I'm pleased to announce I've revised yesterday's banner:

He's still getting a Bike To Work Day "blowie," but here's who he's getting it from:

(Putting the "owie" in "blowie.")

Or, if you want the more conservative banner, fine, be that way:

Also, remember, there's an after-work party in Brooklyn tonight, because people who ride bikes and live in Brooklyn wet their shants at any opportunity to form enormous lines in front of food carts.

Of course, the cynical response to Bike To Work Day is to dismiss it and predict an "epic shitshow" as thousands of wobbly-legged novice cyclists take to the streets on a beautiful Friday, but whatever happens I'm not going to witness it since I plan to spend the day breathing the rarefied air up here in Lob's country.

And now, I'm pleased to present you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right that's great, and if you're wrong it's not and you'll see Italian Batman.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and hope to see you in Boston.

--Wildcat Rock Machine

1) Just days after his controversial "I descended like bit of a girl, really" comment, Bradley Wiggins has announced that he is "pulling out of the Giro d'Italia like I just found out she was ovulating."

--True
--False