Monday, September 10, 2012

Beaten Into Submission: Making It Yours

Good morning!  It's Monday, September something or other, I can't be bothered to check.  Now please stand for the National Anthem of America's dunce cap:



If you did not stand during the above anthem, please go here and enter your contact information so the Royal Canadian Secret Mounted Gestapo can find you and execute you to death.



As for me, I don't have to worry.  I'm always brimming with Canadian patriotism ("brimming with Canadian patriotism" is a euphemism for "being really drunk"), but today my Molson runneth over, for I'm pleased to announce that on Thursday, September 27th and Friday, September 28th I'll be visiting Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, Earth!


Yes, I realize that's the wrong city and country, but whatever.

"So why are you going to Hamilton?," you're probably not wondering unless you're the pet cat I don't even have and you're worrying about who's going to feed you.  Well, I've been asked to participate in a bicycle-themed speakers' series at McMaster University, which means that David Byrne, Grant Petersen, the guy who runs the local bike shop, and everyone else they could have possibly asked probably said "no."  Incidentally, McMaster is the only university in North America that uses a P-Touch® for all its signage:


Also, there will be some festivities here:


As for the schedule of events, that doesn't exist yet, but I will keep you apprised as one evolves.  Also, there's a Facebook page, but I'm not on Facebook so I have no idea if it's actually useful.  Either way, this promises to be the biggest thing to hit that town since the Hamilton Wingfest:


(Woman in referee shirt proffering chicken wings in the traditional manner.)

Hamilton Wingfest is generally considered to be the Woodstock of bar food festivals.

Meanwhile, speaking of tiny delicious snack foods, about 70 Euro-miles away in Torontee a reader tells me those Robs Fords ate a baby:

"My heart bleeds for parents when I eat their babies," said Fords between wet belches, "but it's their own fault at the end of the day."

Of course, while my primary reason for visiting Hamilton is to wear a tweed jacket and smoke a pipe while strolling through the halls of academe, I also have ulterior motives.  Firstly, I'm hoping I can duck into a doctor's office and get some of that famous free Canadian health care for my bunions.  Secondly, I'm going to ask around and see if I can get refugee status and defect in the event that the state of Oregon passes this bike licensing thing:


I realize that Canada's probably not any more bike-friendly than its great big bottom boil to the south (otherwise known as the USA), but at the same time I suspect that if the state in which Portland lies were to move forward with bicycle licensing it would mark the beginning of a whole new era of oppressive bicycle legislation nationwide.  One thing's for sure though, and that is that the people of Oregon are fortunate to have an advocate like Jonathan Maus:

So far, I'm very pleased how Bob Huckaby and I have continued to have an open, respectful and candid dialogue about this. He feels as strongly about his perspective as I, and many of you, feel about yours.

I would have told this Huckaby guy to shove an AYHSMB vanity bicycle license plate right up his walnut glove compartment.

Still, this is a bicycle blog and not a political forum, and as such it would give us all hooves to turn our attention to the subject of actual bicycles.  Like any bike dork, I enjoy reading bike reviews from time to time, yet the fact is that a bike review is merely an exercise in writing marketing copy and is ultimately useless.  This is because bicycle reviews are always about new bikes, and the most you can say for them is that they're first impressions.  Sure, you can write a review of some sensory experience like a movie or a sandwich since it's fleeting and your first impression of it is really the only one that matters, but a bicycle is something else entirely.  A bicycle is like a home or a spouse.  After a year you're only just getting to know it, and ideally it's something that should be with you most of your life.  Your first impression of it is meaningless.  I was thinking of this recently with regard to the Electra Amsterdam, which I wrote something of a mock review of over three years ago.  Here's how it looked when I took delivery of it:



And here's how it looks now:


This is not a review of the Electra Amsterdam.  Rather, it's a look at the process of how a bike actually becomes yours.  In the case of the Amsterdam, it became mine in technical terms because my wife enjoyed riding it and so I made arrangements with Electra to keep it.  (By "arrangements" I mean I didn't send it back to them.)  However, it didn't become truly ours until relatively recently, and here's how that happened.

As I mentioned, my wife really liked the Amsterdam, and since she and I are the same height we can switch bicycles with minimal fuss.  (It also allows me to secretly raid her closet while she's at work.)  We'd both use the Amsterdam, but it quickly became her primary around-town locking-up bike, and apart from not being a step-through it was ideal for that purpose.  (She didn't mind that it wasn't a step-through, but I did, since it made errand-running more difficult when I'd ride around in her dresses during the day.)

Needless to say, as a semi-professional bike blogger, I am responsible for all bicycle maintenance and upkeep for the family.  Also needless to say, as a lazy and fumbling semi-incompetent I'm mostly a failure in that regard.  I especially failed with regard to the Amsterdam, since I was determined to treat it like a Dutch bike--and by that I mean I refused to give it any attention whatsoever.  Cleaning?  Fie!  Adjustments?  Pshaw!  Overhauls?  Scrotanus!  ("Scrotanus" is a medieval expression of disdain or dismay, and using words like that is why I get invited to speak at Canadian universities.)  The only time I'd ever deign to touch the thing in a proprietary fashion at all would be if it had a flat tire, and even then I couldn't even be bothered to remove the wheel.  Instead, I'd merely pop the tire off the rim on one side, pull the tube out, and patch it in situ like the food delivery guys do.

In short, I was neither a mindful owner nor a dutiful spouse.

Well, in time we became inured to the bike's many rattles until one day when my wife was riding it and I was at home the rear fender decided it had had enough of the bicycle's frame and of life and suddenly separated itself from it.  Naturally it plunged into the deadly maw between the tire and the bottom bracket and its struts became hopelessly mangled.  Forward progress was no longer possible, so she was forced to lock it to a pole and continue by subway.  I felt that deep sense of shame that only those who have failed as mechanics and as spouses know.

And my shame would soon be compounded.  As it happened, later that day life exploded in the way life tends to do from time to time, and we found ourselves with all manner of urgent business to attend.  This business involved the use of a car, and as we drove around the city admiring the David Byrne bobblehead on the dashboard and yelling at cyclists to get on the sidewalk, I had a bright idea: "Let's pick up the Electra."  If you're a Yugo owner like I am, you know the only place a bike the size of the Electra is going is up on the roof rack.  However, a bicycle like the Electra is also not going on a fork mount roof rack tray due to the front fender, which, unlike the rear fender, was still resolutely attached to the rest of the bicycle.  And naturally, as a semi-incompetent bicycle mechanic, while I did have the wrench necessary to remove the front wheel I had failed to bring the tools necessary to remove the fender as well.

"No problem," I announced to nobody in particular as I fumbled on the roof of the car.  "I'll simply bend the fender out of the way."

All was going well for about a block and a half, and then we began to hear a thumping sound coming from the roof.  "Ah, it's nothing," I declared, at which point there was a tremendous crash on the passenger side of the car and there was the Electra hanging outside the window, dangling by its rear wheel from that little ratcheting strap thingy.  I pulled over and inspected the damage.  Evidently the fender had acted as sort of a lever against the tray, bending the high tensile steel fork dropout and ultimately ejecting the bike from the fork mount like an ersatz Dutch catapult.  The side of the car was also dented, but that didn't matter to me since the rest of the car is similarly dented as well.  (I drive the sort of car that compels people who own body shops to pull up next to me and solicit my business.)  Now the bicycle was even less rideable than it was before, yet our business was no less compelling, and so I had no choice but to lock it to a nearby rack until I could return with the proper tools.

Well, a day became a week, one week became two, and soon it became more accurate to measure the amount of time the Electra had spent locked to that bike rack in months.  In any case, you know those bikes you see locked up all over the city and wonder why they were abandoned?  Like the ones with a detached fender that look like they fell off a car?  Sometimes they're not abandoned.  Sometimes they're just owned by lazy incompetents who are waiting for windows to open in their rigorous blogging and TV watching schedules but who fully intend to retrieve them.

And so it was that one fine summer day we finally rescued the Electra and brought it home on the subway.  It was still there, though it looked a lot like Saddam Hussein did when they pulled him out of that spider hole.  Once we returned I gave the bicycle some mechanical attention for the first time in its sad life.  I ham-handedly bent twisted metal back into place.  I put Loctite on those fender bolts.  I lubed the chain and the warped little Nexus pushrod.  It was back and returned to service without complaint.

Today the cockpit has a vintage "patina:"


That is complemented by the seatpost:


And the fender struts look like bacon strips:


But it rides as nicely as it does as it was new (apart from the shifting due to that bent pushrod, though that will be fixed when I replace it, which of course I never will).  More than that, after surviving its ordeal it finally feels like my bike (or at least my wife's bike), and it has endeared itself to me forever--or at least until something else falls off of it, or it gives one of us tetanus.  Again, this is not a review, nor is it meant to suggest you should buy this bike over some other bike.  It's merely a story about how this blogger is a lazy idiot who sucks at bikes, and who may or may not have tetanus.

(Fin)

129 comments:

Leifer said...

FIRST SPONMDEEEE

Ed said...

Podium

Anonymous said...

POOO DIUM

Anonymous said...

Omg

CROSSING OCEAN PARKWAY said...

upgrade points!!!

Tom Danielson is a dipshit and a dope fiend!!!

Serial Retrogrouch said...

top diez

Anonymous said...

back!

cycle

McFly said...

SLUTTY REF MONDAY!

wishiwasmerckx said...

Top ten!

babble on said...

You guys are fast off the mark today... must be all those tornado winds at your back.

Kenny Banya said...

Top ten without trying

Kenny Banya said...

Dammit 11th!

mikeweb said...

All those who beat me are dopers.

Fat Bastard said...

"mmmm, baby, the other other white meat!"

theEel said...

weed.

Anonymous said...

kcxjkdjak kjdjkah ldkjd k dlkd ; ad;ka ;kad; ffkdjfkd !

Buffalo Bill said...

Um, scrotanus?

Hope Hamilton doesn't suck too much while you are there. I'm sure there must be something good to say about the place. Only problem is, having been there several times, I can't think what it might be.

Kenny Banya said...

Laugh-out-loud Gold today Snobby, thanks.

Anonymous said...

WOOD SHOP
PUSH ROD
MISS ING
FING ERS

Christian said...

Missed podium in an epic battle to finish reading this similarly epic novel of a blog post.

I liked it Snob. Very much.

McFly said...

The Electra fell off the side of your car because the damn chain guard weighs 82 pounds. Gravity: Friend or Foe?

Anonymous said...

suckedass. good luck in the stink hole of ontario.

Esteemed Commenter DaddoOne said...

this blogger is a lazy idiot who sucks at bikes

Anonymous said...

Shame! Shame!

I thought I was neglectful of the spouse's equally practical and low-maintenance (though not pseudo-Dutch) favourite ride, but I would never go this far. Bravo to you for this heartfelt confession! I hope there is an amnesty in effect in your house.

I too have done the patch in situ on the spouse's bike, for the same reason (Nexus hub). I didn't know about the food delivery angle, though. Does in situ actually mean you use some General Tso's chicken, or whatever you have at hand, to effect the repair?

BTW, are/our, wordmonger.

frilly said...

Snobbie, I laughed til I cried, really. But not to make you feel bad as I laugh with you. Had my own "Oh shit" moment with a bike rack this summer. Witnessed, through the rearview mirror, the front end of my bike swinging like a door hinge off the rack whilst I was travelling a local interstate. Indeed bike transporting can be a tricky business.

Big Charlie said...

"Beausage" is Petersonian for "patina"

A warning: there are Tiger-Cats in Hamilton.

ken e. said...

i heard on the cbc this weekend what a spondee was...

RSTY BIKE
FUCK PTRY

Robs Fords said...

baby back, baby back, baby back ribs.

Anonymous said...

pantyless panties

Fat Bastard said...

Canadian Back Bacon Panties ...


mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Anonymous said...

Cool story, bro.

No, seriously, the Electra story is classic. One of your best.

babble on said...

Huh. That's your excuse, is it? That you're a lazy and fumbling incompetent? Nothing to do with the fact that the Amsterdam is a super-bitch to maintain?

Taking the wheel off to change a flat tyre is a two hour ordeal. Every nut, every bolt, every little bit of the Amsterdam needs attention every few months.

It's the Jaguar of city bikes - not for the weak of mechanical heart.

Them's the facts.

babble on said...

Everything is better with bacon.

Anonymous said...

Best in a while.

I live for the canadian refrences..

little m said...

I will sponser you in the event you are forced to become a Canadian.

Logistical Nazi said...

He's going to Ohio you stooopid rubes. Pay attention. You gots to read beside the lines.

Anonymous said...

Wearing female underwear makes my Johnson feel humongous.

Anonymous said...

Even if you can dodge balls, you'll still never dodge a wrench job on that city bike.

Chicken shit city-slickers.

RANTWICK said...

Wow, you certainly have a lot of failings, yet you seem to be totally comofrtable with them. Congrats!

I just might make it to Hamilton... I'm not as close as Robs Fords, but only about an hour's drive... hmmm.

I hope life doesn't happen.

jayteepee said...

I almost feel guilty laughing about your misfortune with the Electra. But I did laugh. I laughed SO fucking hard. Not as much as I laugh whenever I see anyone forget to clip out at a traffic light, though. Whenever I see that happen I laugh so hard that I wind up peeing in my stretchy shorts, just like your typical tri-dork.

Anonymous said...

On another note,

Riding bikes for sport = no registration

Riding bikes for transportation = registration

How much of this argument is really valid, considering it was never levied in the past, and the spending on bicycle infrastructure is minuscule and incomplete, especially in a city like NYC.

The question is how do you define equitable registration fees. If it were to be equitable then it likely will be so small as to not be worth the effort on either side.

bk jimmy said...

Dunnuh NAH NAH Dunt DANT myyyyy scro-tanus

jayteepee said...

@babble on

Tyre? TYRE? You people in America's combover really need to do something about your spelling. I mean really. It's like those unnecessary u's you put in the words labor and color. Next thing you know, we'll be hearing about the torch mounted on your handlebar.

Dave said...

There are great benefits to at least pretending to be your own mechanic. Wives have an uncanny knack of suddenly appearing on a Sunday afternoon, just as you are about to begin a few hours of Sanity-Restoring Total Laziness in a non-activity of your own choice, and requesting that you help weed the garden and then balance the checkbook or whatever. If you have already got your bike upside down and your shiny bike tools laid out for battle, you can point to the far more important Green duties you must perform to Save the Earth. Nothing is more satisfying than reconditioning a derailleur while watching the Giants lose. Later you can smuggle the bike to a real mechanic to repair the damage you've done.

Matt said...

Man, I'm impressed you could lift that thing onto the roof! Or did your wife do that? Either way, I'm impressed.

BikeSnobNYC said...

Jayteepee,

I believe that's spelled "tourch."

--Wildcat Rock Machine

jayteepee said...

Re: the potential licensing in Portland, I'm wondering if we'll have to attach plates to our bikes as well. If so, will they allow them to be personalized? And will "AYHSMB" fit, just like it does on my car's?

M. Caulkin said...

WRM,

If you have to take Friday off to recover from my Leisure Inferno art show I know your readers will understand.

As a fellow ham-handed amateur, and leisure enthusiast I know you'll appreciate what's on display.

MC

Anonymous said...

i dont undérstand how you were able to leave a decent looking bike locked up to a pole in Nyc without it getting stolen.

Anonymous said...

Hey NYVelocity douchenozzle in the "jeans" shorts on the NYC Century who, along with his Fred NYVelocity poseur buddies who felt the need to cut off anyone who dared ride in your pathetic group....your little dick was pointing through the chamois for everyone to snicker at.

JB said...

Is the Electra built with solid steel tubing, or does it just look like it? I'm surprised the car roof didn't cave-in.

Serial Retrogrouch said...

@anon 2:27
WRCM always uses the dreaded used condom on handlebar security devise. Scranus Co makes them... i mean uses them.

mikeweb said...

Your wife might want to beware of the Electra. It's namesake had it in for her own mother.

KILL MAMA

Marcel Da Chump said...

Wreck abandoned.

babble on said...

Jayteepee - Yep, you will...
And then we can talk about Frilly's knickers.

babble on said...

JB - I think it's lead. That's where my calves came from....

McFly said...

Anon 2:27,
That bike is NOT decent looking. It's tank looking.

Jasper said...

Can't believe no-one has commented on the lines of TLDNR - it was a little on the turgid side today, methinks.

@ Dave - you're my kind of guy.

As for Hamilton, didn't they run the world championships there a few years ago? Not one of the better ones, though.

Ben Nolan said...

There's something called "The Escarpment" right near Hamilton that's more or less fun to bike up/down. That's a recommendation, in case you couldn't tell.

recumbent conspiracy theorist said...

"high tensile steel fork dropout"

-Nice

mikeweb said...

My favorite part of the Electra is how the bell is installed on such a convenient part of the handlebar.

Of course the fact that it's even still there is a testament to the good taste of the people of Brooklyn.

Anonymous said...

Why does this rendition of "Oh Canada" sound like it was recorded in an ice rink?

Flash said...

Snob, nice confessional. If you initially properly set up your Dutch bike...such as using grease on the chain (as no dirt can get thru the chaincover), use bulletproof tires, get the shifting proper, then you can ride this thing for years with little to no maintenance. I know because I'm doing just that with mine and I marvel at it compared to my fussy road bikes. Salute!

BikeSnobNYC said...

Mikeweb,

I don't trust the people of Manhattan (which is where the bike languished) as far as I can throw an Electra Amsterdam, which is why I removed the bell and then replaced it inconveniently after I rescued it.

--Wildcat Rock Machine

Anonymous said...

Smooooth blogging today, Snob.
Smooth like a fine cream soda.

Waiting for Diktat to make an appearance.
No pressure, though.

Anonymous said...

Steve Tilford knows how to work on bikes.

Nebraska Bike Commuter (non DWI edition) said...

We went past Hamilton on the way to Expo 67. In my memory it looked pretty industrial.

Isn't the Niagara Scarfment how Robs Fords got the way he is?

Billy said...

@anon 2:27:

It wasn't "decent-looking" at that point. It had a flat and had just fallen off a car, not to mention having already been abandoned outside for several weeks/months before the first abortive rescue attempt.

McFly said...

BSNYC,

How did you know my city-bike has a huge dent in it and is cobbled together like St Louis MetalArt?

CommieCanuck said...

--WHAT THE FUCK--

He's coming to my town, and the dump I work at (#1 ranked University in West Hamilton), and the cafe I drink cafe at.

While in Hamilton, enjoy our famous and diverse artisanal Crack houses (17 brands of crack and meth!) and feel free to get 3-4 teenage girls pregnant before you leave town.

Practice your Hammer riding skills: the careful balance of a stolen Canadian Tire bike, flipped up "ten-speed" bars and carrying at least a "Hamilton suitcase" (12-pack w/handle) with a lit smoke.

Call me.

Tridorkus Erectus said...

Drink your used chain degreaser and save the earth.

CommieCanuck said...

"We went past Hamilton on the way to Expo 67. In my memory it looked pretty industrial."

Only in a Mordor kind of way.

Half the town is fucked up, the other half is ok, and the third half is hopeless at math and fractions.

We have waterfalls.

CommieCanuck said...

This is Hamilton

"Police seized what they say is approximately $4,000 work of marijuana."

Ya, we don't spell check either.

frilly said...

Babble On--Its not just a pretty pair of knickers. Check your in-box shortly. Enjoy!

Anonymous said...

Well. I'd say you reformed that into a true Amsterdamn bike. That's what all the city bikes in A'dam look like, anyway. Next you should dump the thing into the Gowanus canal.

Ray Sexlight said...

Hamilton is the power-chair capital of the northern hemisphere. You couldn't ride your bike on the sidewalks if you tried.

Anonymous said...

Well, now, I didn't mean "AmsterdamN," but it works in the context of this story anyway.

Hyler Tamilton said...

-Tyler Hamilton, Ontario, Canada-

The perfomance enhancing drug capitol of the entire universe!

All that epo & testosterone, etc. that is flushed down the toilet after being processed boilogically has resulted in trout with beards and flaccid reproductive tissues that can jump twenty five meters in the air.

I believe there is a book that has been recently published that covers this information in the greatest of detail.

jayteepee said...

babble on,

Frilly's knickers? Frilly knickers? Either way, you have my rapt attention. At least until I'm off the clock. Oh the perks of civil servitude...

Tucker Doubt said...

The most overheard phrases in a bikeshop:
"I was just riding along" - classic bullshit line.
"I'm not racin' the tour day France or nothin'"- like WE are.
"It's just my wifes bike" - so don't make it nice.

babble on said...

Oh Goody!! I LOVE surprises!

wishiwasmerckx said...

"A bicycle is like a spouse."

Truer words were never spoken. When you first get her home, she still has that "new wife smell," and all you want to do is ride her and ride her every chance you get. Then she starts to wear out and parts get all out of adjustment, and the bottom bracket somehow keeps getting beefier and beefier, and shifting her into gear gets more and more laborious, and next thing you know you are looking at and pining over a new, lighter, faster, shiner version without all the hard miles on it.

Yeah, the price you pay is high, indeed, but it is worth it. Suddenly, you are again riding faster, farther and more often than you have in quite some time.

Jed said...

Man, I really did choke a couple of times with surprised laughter. Terrific post today. Bravo! BTW, my wife hates it when I pull it to the side and patch it 'in situ'. Foreplay requires tender respect to her derrailleur and attendant jockey gears. I told her that I'll never win a race that way.

Krys Hines said...

Commie Canuck: This whole visit is just an expensive and complex ruse in order to get you to reveal your identity to me. It drives me nuts that I have no idea who you are after all these years...I think the now revealed Mr. Weiss' visit is an excellent opportunity for you to "come oot" as it were to the people of Dundas...K

leroy said...

Five things to remember for those travelling to Hamilton, Canada:

1. Be sure to know the words to that song that goes: "A place to stand, A place to grow, Ontari-ari-ari-o!" Vocalization required at border.

2. Bring Dristan for local panhandlers.

3. "Eh" is the Canadian equivalent of "y'all" and should never be used by an outsider attempting to fit in.

4. There is no number 4, eh. Hosers.

5. Ixnay on how CommieCanuck looks like Abe Vigoda. He doesn't know.

babble on said...

JayTeePee
Sorry, what was that? Frilly had my rapt attention...

Tony said...

I believe the very first Tim Horton's is on Ottawa Street in Hamilton. Grab a 'double-double' and some timbits and enjoy your stay, eh!

Tony said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Higgs said...

All You Haters Can Suck My Bosons!

All 11,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 to the zillionth power cubed!

Dooth said...

I guess they're called Hamiltonians, eh?

babble on said...

not Hamiltwats?

Anonymous said...

Hamilton! Drive the fuck past it. Cunts the lot of them.

Stanley A Wiggins

McFly said...

Cameltoenians

DerZoots said...

Oh man you had me laughing in bunches.
Great story. So glad the electra is restored to it's glory.

Bravo!!!!!

Stephen said...

Hasn't Hamilton got a book out? Why no mention eh? Omerta alive and well I reckon!

Anonymous said...

"Bacon strips"
Piss flaps
Cunt.

McFly said...

A HUGE and sincere thank you to any readers out there in the cyberblogularworld that are/were/will be in the United States Armed Forces. You make me feel safe.

McFly said...

True Story.

leroy said...

99 ...

Anonymous said...

Days late I know, but I just wanted to declare that I once owned a "fromage" aka cheese bike (see last Friday) - wobbled a lot if one exceeded walking pace

Hamilton Burger Esq said...

Went to Hamilton once. So you chained the Electra to something a quarter mile from your house and three years later you went back and got it. Not quite enuf time for you to be considered a Slacker. Robs Fords, if his photo was posted next to a photo of Jabba the Hut would anyone be able to tell who is who?

CommieCanuck said...

Krys...you know the way to get me to the cafe is is to shine the biscotti signal beacon on the clouds.

-Prof. Snuffleupagus

HINT: we have the same barber.

Anonymous said...

this electra bicycle has no rack. what kind of riding did she do on it?

i only ask because i have been thinking about Electra, but i keep hearing people say that it falls apart after you ride it. by 'ride it', i mean, ride it to places where you need a rack to do what you are doing, like to work carrying your clothes/crap, to the grocery store, to walmart at 4 am to buy toilet paper, over hill over dale, etc.


i have to ask myself, how does my trip down the grassy embankment, over the curbs, through the small pieces of glass splattered intersection, the sand, more curbs, potholes, hills, etc, compare with Bike Snob's Wife riding around NYC?

Anonymous said...

you could have said, "I left my bike outside for a while and this is how it looks now," and it would have been just as well.

Anonymous said...

...and you want to be my fender salesman!

mohit said...

What A Witch Can Do
Do you have any idea what a witch can do when it comes to you on a dark lonely night? See the cartoon animated Maruti video for more details- http://bit.ly/BoyandtheWitch

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