Droppin' the "H": Hooking, Hucking, and Hucksters

Further to yesterday's post, in which I mentioned flesh hooks in cyclocross (I've dictated a lot of weird phrases to my helper monkey and typist Vito in my time, and "flesh hooks in cyclocross" may be among the strangest), a commenter by the name of "Bunny" made the following observation:

Bunny said...

Maybe worth mentioning that it was a Halloween race. Everyone was in costume.

Is it really worth mentioning though? I'm not so sure. It would seem to me that there's a tremendous difference between putting on some make-up or a fright wig or dressing up as Angela from "Who's the Boss?" and actually putting hooks through your flesh. Don't get me wrong--this is America (Canada's sanitary napkin), and if someone wants to pierce themselves like George Costanza baiting a hook with marble rye than by Lob he or she should be able to do so. Still, I would argue that such behavior falls outside the purview of a simple Halloween costume in that I hardly this is something somebody would do for the first time on a whim in the spirit of the season. Nobody says, "Hmmm, I think I'll be a fakir for Halloween and tow my friend around at a cyclocross race," raids his roommate's tackle box, and puts a bunch of fish hooks through his skin. Clearly this is an experienced flesh hooker, and the fact that it happened on Halloween doesn't make it a costume, just as pleasuring yourself during a Jewish holiday doesn't make "foffing off" a mitzvah.

Then again, I admit I don't have the most objective view of Halloween, since I suffer from holiday depression. For some people, holiday depression strikes during Christmas, or New Year's Eve, or even Hanukkah (referred to among holiday depression sufferers as the "Eight Days of Misery"). However, I have no problem whatsoever with these holidays, and in fact during that time I'm generally at my most ebullient--you're likely to find me standing knee-deep in Egg Nogg wearing nothing but a Christmas Sweater while singing Kwanzaa carols and lighting a Menorah in the manner of Gene Simmons. I've even been known to hang some holiday-themed art:

In case you don't get the reference, it has something to do with this.

Halloween, on the other hand, fills me with sadness. I'm not talking about children's Halloween, which is a fun time for make-believe, imagination, and a little bit of sanctioned mischief. I'm talking about adult Halloween, which is a creepy day of over-sharing during which people outwardly manifest their sublimated desires and dashed hopes in costume form, as articulated (albeit nasally and shrilly) in that Dead Kennedys song. When I see a young child joyously trick-or-treating and delighting in the wondrous spookiness of the season, I try not to think that in 25 years she could be rolling around in the Oregon mud at a cyclocross race with a bunch of hooks in her back hoping people will look at her.

Another "hot topic" among commenters recently has been the subject of "Cat 6," or commuter, "racing"--and more specifically, whether or not it is appropriate. Personally, I happen to be against it, though I should say that I have nothing whatsoever against commuting vigorously in order to get a workout or even against using other commuters as "mechanical rabbits"--just so long as this is done safely and responsibly and the "mechanical rabbit's" personal space is not encroached upon. Similarly, there's nothing wrong with appreciating the physical attributes of a fellow commuter from afar in a discreet fashion, but there's a point at which it goes too far--usually well before you find yourself dry-humping complete strangers on the subway. And actively wheelsucking or cutting people off on the Williamsburg Bridge is the dry-humping of bicycle commuting.

Still, I'd like very much to organize mock victory celebrations on the apex of the Williamsburg Bridge like the ones in this video which came to me from Stevil Kinevil via the "Treehugger" site:

I think a "Maillot Douche" jersey ceremony complete with scantily-clad podium hipsters would be the way to go.

And speaking of commuting, a reader from Germany recently alerted me to the future of bike locking:

Given the popularity of the "Hipster High Lock," I think it's safe to say that if such a device ever actually made it into production you'd soon find one poking out of the rear pocket of every "fixie" rider in cycledom.

In any case, the key is to temper your behavior with some self-awareness and a bit of perspective. This can help you realize when you're behaving inconsiderably--or, if you prefer, "douchey." Similarly, I realize that much of the time I behave like a persnickety fusspot, and that my expectation that we all obey the same rules is a bit unrealistic. After all, if everybody followed the rules then we wouldn't have Danny MacAskill videos:



Since that last Danny MacAskill video it would appear that he went and got himself a PR team since I've been receiving numerous press release-type emails concerning the one above, and when press releases tell me to mention something you'd better believe I listen! Afer all, Danny MacAskill's bike-handling skills are so impressive he has officially become the World's Most Agile Scotsman, a title previously held by this man:



Given his worldwide fame, I think Danny MacAskill's next video should be more international in scope, and I'd like to see him do an "edit" where he rides all of the world's holiest sites. For example, I'd love to see him in Jerusalem "hucking" his bike off of the Wailing Wall and onto the Dome of the Rock. On the downside, he'd have a fatwa on him in about nine seconds; on the upside, Fatwa=Massive Street Cred. Then, after that, he and Salman Rushdie could "drop" a "collabo" of some kind. They could call it "The Bike-Tastic Verses."

Speaking of worldviews, a reader recently forwarded me the following Craigslist post:

How to Buy a Used Surly Steamroller Fixie 56cm - $550 (mission district)
Date: 2010-11-16, 9:04AM PST
Reply to: [deleted]

It's kind of a right of passage to ride a fixie on the streets of the mission. You're either hip or your not, and there's something about dudes who ride bikes with wheels that don't spin that's just so attractive to the ladies. One of the simplest, and possibly coolest, fixed gear bicycles you can buy is the Surly Steamroller, and lucky for you, I'm selling mine. It's not very old, originally purchased new in May 2010. I'm only selling it because I'm done riding for the season, and planning on relocating somewhere else in the next few months -- the bike can't come, because all I bring with me is a backpack. That's where you come in: it's time for you to embrace a fixed gear bike for the first time, or maybe you need an upgrade?

The frame is a 56cm -- it's a Surly Steamroller Cream complete, so you can find the parts list here on Surly's website. http://surlybikes.com/bikes/steamroller_complete/

There are two brakes, so if you're afraid of dying in traffic like I am, you can stop the bike before you die.

There is very little wear, but the logos are starting to peel a little from the frame. You can probably remove the Surly logos entirely for a better look, with some soaking and a sponge.

Asking $550, cash only. Original price was $750. Located in the mission at 24th and Bryant. My schedule is pretty open, but drop me an email to see if it's still available. I imagine this will go kind of quick.

My first thought upon reading this was, "Wow, the guy selling that Surly sounds like a total douche." My second thought was, "Hey, that Surly looks familiar." In fact, I'm fairly certain it belongs to the "57 things" minimalist guy, since I saw it in his apartment in that CBS Evening News Report:

Sure, it's just a stock Surly Steamroller, but the pedals are the giveaway--that and the smug part about how "all I bring with me is a backpack." To confirm, I visited his weird minimalist-meets-get-rich-quick site, but all I found was this:

How does it feel to delete the photos of your ex-boyfriend?

How does it feel to sell the house you’ve lived in for the last 26 years?

How does it feel to drop your TV off your roof?

How does it feel to move to the other side of the country?

How does it feel to not have a home at all?

How does it feel to swap out bacon egg and cheeses for breakfast fruit?

How does it feel to make $27 (or $2,300?) of location-independent income?

You'll notice that "How does it feel to sell your barely-ridden fixie?" is conspicuously absent from that list, but that may be because it's still languishing on Craigslist. In the meantime, I suppose he can console himself by being overly smug about the fact that he got dumped and that he eats fruit for breakfast. I will say though that if he's never sold a fixie on Craigslist he may have no idea what he's in for, and if he can't handle a few negative comments on his blog then the barrage of inane questions like "Hoe much does it way?" and "Can I take the breaks off?" are liable to destroy him.

In the meantime, I'll be waiting on tenterhooks to see if it moves--or, failing that, flesh hooks.