It also, unfortunately, conflicts with the presentation of Drew Guldalian, who happens to build very nice bikes, which I know because my friend has one and I've ridden it:
Given this, as well as the fact that I'm intrinsically not very interesting, I know that I have to work in order to draw people to my presentation. To this end, I will first remind you that the Philly Bike Expo people have a "special" going, wherein you get a copy of my book:
Secondly, I will also tell you that the seminar I've prepared is more than entertaining; it's actually a major opportunity to get in on the "ground floor" of a tremendously exciting business venture. I can't tell you what this venture is, and I also won't confirm or deny that it involves time shares, but I will point out that the weather is quite lovely in Boca Raton at this time of year and just leave it at that. Plus, in addition to all of this, I will be giving out prizes, which will consist mostly of stuff I have lying around at home. For example, if you can believe it, Rapha actually just sent me some of their "performance skincare:"
This was very generous of them, and I'm honestly grateful, but the truth is that I have an aversion to scented unguents, and I could smell this stuff before it even got off the mail truck. (It smelled kind of like the bowls of potpourri they keep by the door in the sorts of shops that sell candles and teapots.) I'm also an avowed "lowbrow" when it comes to chamois cream (if you don't know, chamois cream is the stuff you put on your "lowbrow"), and the local pharmacy serves my crotchal needs just fine. (My motto is: "If it's good enough for a diaper, then it's good enough for my bib shorts.") Also, I once had an accident involving hot embrocation that is too graphic to relate here, and I'm now afraid to get anywhere near the stuff.
So, what this means is that I will award this deluxe Rapha Performance Skincare fun-pak as a prize at my BRA. By the way, it will also come in this Rapha sack, which is perfect for pretentiously storing that spare tubular tire you keep toe-clipped to the underside of the saddle on your Serotta, ostensibly in case of a puncture but in reality merely as a sort of "retro" affectation:
Or you can stuff it full of potpourri and hang it in your closet.
But this isn't the only prize I will dispense. I'll also rummage around and see what else I can find, and these items could include lights from Knog as well as perhaps a t-shirt or two. Moreover, I will attempt to dispense these items in a fashion that is enjoyable to all present. So I hope to see some of you there on Saturday, and I hope you will refrain from pelting me with cheese steaks.
Moving on, in the spirit of "work" and fulfilling responsibilities, it's also time to conclude The First (and Last) Annual BSNYC/RTMS Cockpit of the Year Award, sponsored by Just Coffee Cooperative, who won't listen to me when I tell them they'd make a lot more money if they'd just start exploiting people. Yesterday, you voted on the finalists, and here were the winners when I arbitrarily closed the polls this morning:
I. Best Antler or Animal By-Product
As you can see, "Antlers Sur L'Herbe" won by a comfortable margin:
II: Best Aero
In this race, a conservative gravel-phobic base rallied to make sure that aerobars are used only on the road:
III: Best Multi-Level
(The Sheldon Brown Memorial Biplanar Cockpit Award)
In this emotionally charged race, Jacob's Ladder was the clear favorite:
IV: Best STI
It was a very tight race, but the "Upright" configuration won by a rattly worn 9-speed STI lever top cap:
V: Best Owner "Curated" and Piloted
Also a very close race, in the end "Steering Wheel Guy" flipped "The Kansas Sail" the "bird:"
And finally, in the always sensational "Freestyle" competition, the Terry Gilliamesque network of pneumatic tubes that is the "???" cockpit won decisively:
Thus having established the best-of-breed, it's now time to determine the Best In Show and finally put this contest to bed like a naughty dachshund. Simply vote below for the cockpit you like best, and the number of votes each cockpit receives will determine the first, second, and third place finishers:
Once the voters are in, that will be that, and three very lucky and potentially overstimulated people will receive their "Cockie" coffee.
Speaking of elections, a number of people have informed me that this bloated saddlebag was recently elected the mayor of Toronto:
Sadly, all I can do is offer the people of Toronto my condolences. I was particularly confused by his self-defeating argument that people shouldn't ride bikes because "roads are built for buses, cars, and trucks, not for people on bikes," since if anything it means that the roads need to be upgraded. That's like saying people shouldn't use computers because "our communication infrastructure was built for letters and telegraphs, and not for the Internet." Of course, he does have a sensitive side:
My heart bleeds for ‘em when I hear someone gets killed, but it’s their own fault at the end of the day.
His heart may be bleeding, but I suspect it's due not to the dead cyclists but to his corpulence, and that it has ruptured from the strain of pushing blood through his fat-clogged arteries. Unfortunately for him, "artificial hearts are built for health-minded people with congenital heart defects, not for people who eat all their meals at Tim Hortons."
Meanwhile, speaking of self-contradictory worldviews, a fellow Twitterer has informed me that the "57 Things" guy was on the CBS Evening News recently:
At first I was puzzled as to why a minimalist with a small amount of stuff would need such a big apartment:
But then I remembered that he and his girlfriend actually had a whole lot of stuff--until they broke up, leaving him in a typical "my girlfriend just left me" apartment. Fortunately though he still has a full wardrobe that easily contains at least 57 hangers:
He also still has his bike, which may or may not be a fixie but definitely has the top-mount-lever-only brake lever configuration so conducive to that "out of the saddle, hands on the bar tops" thing that "hipsters" love to do:
Meanwhile, CBS Evening News juxtaposes the incidental minimalism of a guy whose girlfriend just left him with the cluttered apartment of a former sorority sister who desperately clings to her sticker and shoelace collection:
Here she is standing in her closet:
I give it six weeks before she and "57 Things" guy move in together, and six months before she leaves him after a protracted fight about closet space.
They even talk to a professional organizer, whose orderly wood pile is a testament to his abilities:
But who fails to explain how having a bunch of cabinets you don't use is "minimalist:"
Really, it's no different from having a bunch of stickers you don't stick to anything, or a box of shoelaces you don't put in shoes.
By the way, I'd bet my Ironic Orange Julius Bike that the professional organizer with the tidy woodpile owns one of those artisanal axes:
Even though they're hopelessly out of style, since a reader informs me that it's now all about the designer pick axe:
Thanks to that rescue in Chile, urban lumberjacks are out, and "hipster" miners are in.