Fully Loaded: Excessive Packaging

[CUE HIGH-BUDGET DREAM SEQUENCE]

As everybody knows by now, yesterday professional cyclist George Hincapie carved his name into the pavé of history by winning the [instert number here]th edition of the Paris-Roubaix bicycle race, also known as the "Spleen of the Classics:"

(Hincapie, resplendent in his size "M" USPRO Champion Stars-and-Stripes Hanes® Beefy-T®, savors his solo victory)

While few people saw Hincapie as a favorite, nobody could have possibly predicted the dramatic manner in which the race unfolded. As the peloton entered the famed Forest of Arenberg, Hincapie's BMC whatever-it-is bicycle crumbled beneath him as though it were made of Pringles. This, it would seem, was the end of Hincapie's 42nd participation in this storied race. However, spectators and commentators were amazed when, on the penultimate ("penultimate" means the one that hurts your penis the most) sector of cobblestones, Hincapie suddenly rejoined an elite chase group in pursuit of race leader Fabian Cancellara. Even more stunning than the superhuman effort was the fact that Hincapie was riding a period-correct pennyfarthing (or "p-far") bicycle, apparently proffered by a costumed bystander. Hincapie then rode through the chase group (which included riders like Tom Boonen and the preternaturally viscous Filippo Pozzato) like a brakeless "hipster" rides through a bunch of pedestrians at an intersection, overtook a rather nonplussed Cancellara, switched back to a team-issue bicycle upon entering the "Ruby Velodrome," and took the victory that has eluded him for the past 59 years.

Also, cycling fans got to witness another milestone yesterday, when Versus commentator Paul Sherwen uttered the words "around about" for the one millionth time during a Paris-Roubaix broadcast. This phrase will now be encased in a Lucite cobblestone, which will be laid in the Carrefour de l'Arbre pavé sector in an elaborate ceremony to be presided over by professional cyclist turned flax mogul Johan Museeuw, Roger De Vlaeminck, and renowned artistic cyclist Serge Huercio (who, in his previous incarnation as a Classics rider, won Liege-Bastogne-Liege five consecutive times).

[CUE HIGH-BUDGET "BACK-TO-REALITY" SEQUENCE]

Of course, we all know the real Paris-Roubaix story--so "sparctacular" is Fabian "Spartacus" Cancellara that he can humor his sponsors by riding famously brittle Zipp wheels, crack those wheels, and still win by like two and a half hours. Boonen, on the other hand, was not quite as sharp as his pointy sideburns would indicate. As for Hincapie, rather than carving his name into the cobbles of history, sadly he instead chose to write it in bubble letters on the dry erase board walls of the Halls of Meh.

In fact, considerably more exciting than Hincapie's performance (by which I mean slightly more than not at all) were the commercials during the Versus broadcast. I was particularly fascinated to learn about the "Sea-Doo," which is apparently the world's first personal watercraft with a brake:

With the advent of the on-water braking system, the road-going "tarck" bike is now officially the last machine in the world of "flambullient," DayGlo, color-coordinated, and mostly pointless transport (a flat-brim-capped realm which also includes vehicles such as chrome-laden crotch-rockets and custom Civics) for which brakes are still not acceptable. Then again, I'm not a part of "personal watercraft culture," and it may be that using an on-water braking system also means you have no "seaworthiness" (which is, of course, the nautical equivalent of "street cred") and marks you as a total "Nü-Landlubber"--or, worse yet, a complete "fakencaptain." Or, maybe the on-water brake makes this contraption even more like a "tarck" bike, since it essentially creates a reverse thrust, which is similar to the whole "leg braking" concept. Either way, even though designers are attempting to "coolify" the bicycle brake with ill-conceived novelties like the Blockhead stem and the handlebar-mounted clay-cutter, from what I see out there on the "streeetzzz" brakelessness is still the order of the day. Consider this typical specimen:

Apart from the lack of a brake, it also has other "Save the Track Bike" styling cues, my favorite of which is the popular "shoulder pad" grip setup:

This of course evokes the shoulder-pads-and-pushed-up-blazer--sleeves look of the 1980s, and it allows the rider to show off the anodization of his handlebars in the same way it allowed Don Johnson to show off his tanned and waxed forearms:

Another commerical I saw on Versus was one for "ExtenZe Male Enhancement," an annotated variant of which you can see here:



I'm not sure why so many men want to make their penises bigger. Really, having unwieldy genitalia seems like a major inconvenience, and if anything I think it would be more beneficial to make it more compact, easily portable, and less susceptible to damage. Plus, having ExtenZe in your medicine cabinet could be potentially embarrassing, but keeping a box of "male reducer" laying around in plain sight suggests you actually require mediation to reign in your endowment. Apparently, though, increased size isn't the only effect of ExtenZe--according to the Versus commercial, it also makes men "perform" better. By "perform" I assume they don't mean you'll be able to deliver a knockout monologue and land that speaking part at your local repertory theater, and that they're really talking about "s-e-x." Presumably, Extenze will impart upon you the potency of "five Japanese slow-drippers," which is helpful if you're currently only a "one-touch dripper:"

("All You Haters Touch My Dripper," spotted by a reader in Japan.)

Or if you're a "Husband For Hire:"

I spotted the above vehicle in Brooklyn and immediately assumed the driver was some sort of male prostitute. Subsequently, I consulted a popular search engine and learned that he's actually just a contractor, though his website did include a drawing of a person with an enormous tool, which kindled my suspicions anew:

Speaking of large packages, I took the opportunity this past weekend to transport some items with the Surly Big Dummy I've been borrowing:

(The Wagon Queen Family Truckster)

As I must regularly visit the off-site storage area where I receive bulky parcels, house my ironic intern Spencer Madsen, and store canned foods and Snapple in preparation for the Apocalypse, the Big Dummy has already proved itself to be quite useful for what the pretentious mistakenly call "portaging" and what I prefer to call "shuttling crap." Of course, I also live in fear of the moment when, having discharged my load and carrying nothing, I will be spotted by some smug cargo cyclist who's hauling a hemp sofa and 400 pounds of compost and be branded a "fakenporter." In fact, in the event that the cargo bike becomes Fixed-Gear 2.0, I plan to market a line of color-coordinated and pre-distressed empty cardboard boxes that people can simply keep on their bikes at all times for instant "load cred." It's the "porteur" equivalent of ExtenZe.

The other fear I have is dropping my load all over the street (in the literal sense, not the "one-touch dripper sense"). Hopefully, though, if that were to happen then someone would help me--just like they helped this drunk guy who fell off his bike:

Saved me after falling off my bike - m4w (Midtown West)
Date: 2010-04-12, 12:19AM EDT

There is no way this is going to work but I hope it does. You helped me up and helped me fix my bike. It was around 3am I was tipsy and went over the handlebars of my bike; you came to the rescue and then ran off! Email me

Sounds like David Byrne is off the wagon again. Really, falling off your bike while drunk is even more embarrassing than riding around and high-fiving Rollerbladers:

central park today- high 5! (Gramercy)
Date: 2010-04-11, 7:02PM EDT

hey there, today we passed each other a couple times going around the park. you were rollerblading and I was riding my bike. I gave you a high 5 riding past one of the times. I should have stopped. I thought your were quite the rollerblader and definitely looked good doing it. Maybe we can go for a rollerblade together sometime. I would love to get to know you. Hope you see this.

Obviously, the above poster is a "troll," since nobody looks good Rollerblading. And speaking of "portaging," it seems that some sort of "bicycle guru" is walking around the East Village while "portaging" a frame:

To the bicycle guru. - m4w (East Village)
Date: 2010-04-10, 1:51AM EDT

You had your Soma bike frame slung over your shoulder on 14th and A. I said you were missing something. You took out your ear buds to hear what I was saying.

The conversation ended when you had to take a picture of a church.
I think you are a bodhisattva in disguise. I felt good just being me around you. Thanks for that.

I find it difficult to believe that a Bodhisattva would be walking around with a Soma and listening to earbuds, though in these Apocalyptic times anything is possible. Perhaps she's the same person who helped that drunk fix his bike. Hopefully if I do drop my cargo, the Bicycle Guru will materialize like some sort of "hipster" version of Simon and help me "portage" my burden.