Happy Nü Year: What Little Difference a Year Makes

(Sad commentary on the state of affairs, spotted by Esteemed Commenter DaddoOne)

Well, it's 2011, and three days into the new year I'm already making good on my resolution, which is to generally be more like "whatever" about stuff. I made this resolution after realizing that most of the world's problems are caused by people being way too into stuff (religion, making money, sending that urgent text message while driving at the expense of others' safety), and concluding that if people generally cared less about stuff that the world would be a better place. If we managed to rid society of qualities such as ambition, vitality, and passion and all became a bunch of slow-moving, passive creatures, then surely our world would be transformed into a paradise. It would be like Portland, only without the undercurrent of smugness.

Speaking of slow-moving, passive creatures, I undertook a trip over the holidays that fortuitously had me leaving New York the day before the Crazy Epic Blizzard of Death of 2010 struck and returning just as the Crazy Epic Airport Delays of Death of 2010 finally resolved themselves. I won't say where I went because nobody really cares where I go anyway, but I will say that when I pulled my rental car over and relieved myself by the side of the highway I scared the crap out of a bunch of cows:

(Thousands of bovines flee in terror as I urinate.)

I'd always just assumed these slow-moving, passive creatures had no survival instincts whatsoever so I was rather surprised when they ran. I was also surprised that the resulting stampede laid waste to most of the state, resulting in innumerable injuries and incalculable property damage, making this one of the most destructive "pee-pees" I've ever taken.

I was not surprised, however, to find upon returning to New York like four days after the snow storm that the city was still in chaos. This is because the typical New Yorker's reaction to the first sign of snow is to panic, jump into their cars in order to drive two blocks to purchase bottled water and duct tape, and promptly crash into each other. Immediately upon arriving home, I hopped on my Smugness Flotilla to survey the damage and there were still abandoned vehicles all over Ocean Parkway:

There had to be at least ten in this one block stretch alone, some of which were even in the turning lanes:

Granted, I was away scaring cows with my urine during the actual storm, so I don't know if the drivers left their cars here or if the city towed them from elsewhere and left them there for "safe keeping," but with most streets perfectly passable by that point you'd think people might have come and collected them by then. The drivers can't all have perished in the storm.

Then again, maybe they did, because a few blocks away emergency vehicles still weren't getting anywhere. This was because, even though the streets were clear, the double-parkers combined with the snow piles resulted in lots of congestion. My outdated "smartphone" coupled with my poor photography skills do not yield very revealing pictures, but here are a bunch of vehicles with sirens ablaze unable to get anywhere, blocked as they were by urgent energy drink deliveries:

The fire engine behind me did not move for the entire time it took me to pick up my "epic" post-flight homecoming take-out lunch order.

Even as recently as last night, one week after The Crazy Epic Horrible Death Snowing Blizzard of Aught-Ten, cars were still parked perpendicular to the curb, despite abundant parking and the fact that it's been like 50 degrees for days:

So if you're not from New York and your impression of the city from The Movies is that the people who live here are hardy, no-nonsense urbanites, I can assure you that this is not the case and that we are in fact mostly a bunch of simpering "wussbags" unable to take even the most basic responsibility for our own motor vehicles.

But of course this guy already knew that:

Really, having weathered many a New York snowstorm, the only thing that surprises me about the aftermath of the Deathtastic New York City Hell Blizzard of Nineteen Hundred Two Thousand Ten is that David Byrne hasn't started gloating yet:

He doesn't have a car, you know.

And on the positive side, the uncollected trash is breaking people's falls:

Note the jumper was a "despondent" man, making this an unusual twist on the typical "exuberant" man suicide story to which we've all, sadly, become accustomed.

Speaking of being despondent in New York City, sometimes all you need to help you through those rough times is a source of inspiration. Consider this tunnel-dwelling homeless person and her motivational decor:

("Following Lance Armstrong's shining example got me where I am today.")

Also, it's difficult to tell by the photo, but she's even reading a copy of Chris Carmichael's seminal work, "The Time-Crunched Cyclist:"

It's a tome best enjoyed by candlelight in a dark tunnel, even if you don't ride and have plenty of time on your hands.

But not everybody finds inspiration in the sporting accomplishments of others, and for these people sometimes joining a good old-fashioned club is the best way to find motivation. And what club could be more motivating and old-fashioned than a Bianchi Pista Club? Fortunately, a reader who claims his name is "Julian" informs me that someone is starting just such an organization:

Bianchi Pista ... Club .......Members wanted (Upper West Side)
Date: 2011-01-02, 7:46PM EST
Reply to: [deleted]

hi everyone ...
I am looking to creative a bianchi pista club .... for only pista owners only ....... Cool and creative ways to swap parts meet other and enjoin
riding around town as a group from time to time . Members would only be a pista owner only . Chances for wining new parts and other stuff ....
Looking for about 20 members only ... trying to keep it simple and fun but creative and funky .......

Please email me with bike pictures and contact .........
thanks ...
siempre ...
this is my pista ... way to much to list ........


Once the "noob chariot" of choice, the humble Bianchi Pista has clearly attained "retro" status in 2011, though performing a trackstand on a slab of concrete against an urban backdrop while accompanied by a whippet is indisputably timeless.

For my part though, I'm going to forego the Bianchi Pista Club and instead join the Siblinghood of the Brokenago by purchasing this frame, which was forwarded to me by another reader:

It's laterally stiff and vertically fissiparous.

Whatever.