No, if Rapha really want to capture a "suffer fest" then they should make a video of a move. I don't mean one of those Portland moves where fifteen people portage a futon, a bunch of houseplants, and a litter box across town on their cargo bikes. No, I mean a real grown-up move, with trucks and elevators and traffic and lawyers and people stepping barefoot on staples inadvertently dropped by the cable guy and then crashing through French doors. Because this is not impressive:
Strap a couch on each of their backs though and maybe you're getting somewhere.
In any case, I'm pleased to report that my family and I have successfully moved from one residence to another, and we now live in a warren of boxes so labyrinthine that we must carry flags around with us lest we get lost going from the kitchen to the bathroom. As for where we live now, I'll let you know as soon as I figure it out myself, but I can tell you that when I look out my living room I see the Statue of Liberty, and my study offers an unobscured view of the Empire State Building, and my bedroom balcony overlooks the polar bear habitat at the Bronx Zoo, and my indoor swimming pool has a glass bottom that overlooks the Goethals Bridge. Also, I did notice that in the comments to last Monday's post a number of people speculated that I had relocated to Queens, which surprised me. I mean, I said I was moving. I didn't say I was giving up on life.
One thing's for sure though, which is that I no longer live in Brooklyn, and if you're wondering why then clearly you don't read the New York Times Real Estate section. If you did, you'd know that a one bedroom apartment with a closet in which to store your one (1) baby costs well over half a million dollars:
Though to be fair, in this case the baby storage closet actually has its own closet:
But this apartment was different. “We both had that immediate feeling,” Ms. Fox said.
They loved the high ceilings, large windows and prewar character. They didn’t mind the fact that the bedroom was on the small side. The requisite extra room, in use as a child’s bedroom, had a closet. There was even a wood-burning fireplace. The asking price was $579,000, with maintenance in the high $800s.
"Extra room" is brokerese for "windowless firetrap." I'm sorry to bore you with matters of real estate, but the truth is all New Yorkers are deeply obsessed with the subject, and when you're moving you become doubly so.
By the way, renting in Brooklyn is no better, since then you have to compete with Sandy-displaced Red Hookers who are looking for apartments with space for their chickens:
Yes, it's a familiar story here in New York. A farm girl comes to the big city and settles Red Hook, where her rugged wardrobe and quirky country bumpkin ways are, by an accident of geography and demographics and the zeitgeist, the absolute height of urban chic:
Ms. Kirshner, 27, grew up on a farm in Washington State, home to goats, sheep and, yes, chickens, which when she was young she was charged with caring for. As an adult living in Brooklyn, she arranged to have chickens again, for the eggs, but mostly for fun. The four she currently has — Chicki Minaj, Hillary Chicken, Black Betty and Salt Hen Peppa, who is also called Cookie Dough — were born in New Jersey in May.
Then, a giant hurricane comes and threatens to sweep her chickens out to sea, but her neighbors rescue them just as they're up to their wattles in storm surge:
“On Monday night as I was getting the news that I’d lost pretty much all my belongings, I was also getting news that someone had heroically saved my chickens!” she said.
Ms. Swenson and her partner, Monica Byrne, who live above the restaurant, decided to huddle at home.
When the water began to rise, Ms. Byrne and Ms. Swenson headed over to the lot with the chickens and plunged into chest-deep water to save them.
“We had to,” Ms. Swenson said. “We’re big suckers.”
Suckers is right. There is no way on Lob's red Earth that I'd risk my life--or even get the slightest bit wet for that matter--to save a bunch of pending Chik-fil-A sandwiches. But then again, clearly I don't have what it takes to live in today's Brooklyn--by which I mean huge amounts of money and a willingness to die for barnyard fowl.
Nevertheless, I do owe Brooklyn a tremendous debt of gratitude for being the place that nurtured me my entire adult life. Indeed, this past weekend I had what felt like sort of a symbolic "last ride" out of the borough. Sure, my tires will roll upon it and I will pull over to surreptitiously pee on it many, many more times, but merely as a visitor, and perhaps never again as a resident. As I rode along the Great Hipster Silk Route, I was stricken by the fact that roughly every 20 feet there was somebody photographing or filming something. Either it was the woman taking pictures of "street art" on some warehouse-turned-luxury condo, or the shitty skateboarders filming each-other failing to land tricks off the Jersey barriers along the protected bike lane, or just the absurdly trendy couples snapping Instagram shots of one another's outfits. Brooklyn is increasingly becoming a place of self-invention, and having invented a persona for myself over the years that is as fatuous and ersatz as any, I have now moved on, secure in myself, delighted by my new surroundings, and looking forward to pointing and laughing at the place from whence I came from a comfortable distance.
Speaking of laughing at stuff, a reader who was uncomfortable at the idea of laughing at someone's stolen bike recently sent me this photo:
I, however, have no such compunctions. As they say, when life gives you lemons you make lemonade, and when life steals your artisanal bamboo bike you make an artisanal sign that's probably worth more than the bike itself. It must be crippling to live the artisanal lifestyle. First you spend a bunch of time making a bike out of sticks, and then it gets stolen so you spend a bunch more time making a fancy sign, then maybe someone finds the bike and you spend three more weeks making them a hand-lettered Certificate of Gratitude on parchment, and so forth. It's a vicious cycle of arts and crafts. At the very least, if you're going to turn your stolen bamboo bike into an art project, you should paint a decent "Wanted" poster:
The first place I'd look for the stolen bamboo bike would be in his droppings, though you'll be lucky to find anything rideable.
By the way, I did check the Threepenny Bikes website, and my favorite model is the "Hemp Mixte:"
Lugs are for bike frames. Hemp joints are for Wednesdays--though I guess they couldn't be any worse than this bike, forwarded by another reader:
I'm not sure I'd agree with the seller's "sturdy" assessment:
Though it is a good candidate for some bicycle taxidermy, as forwarded by yet another reader:
It's the perfect accessory for your quasi-rural Brooklyn apartment.
122 comments:
Spilling champagne like Onan.
Hemp baby!
Podio
Podiummmm
yes
cycle
Foiled again
Top Ten!
KNEEL BEFORE ZOD.
9 und 10 (ZOD)
weed.
I bet Babble On is used to having a couch on her back.
YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE? GENIUS!
With a crack like that about Queens, no way did you move to Staten Island.
WTF, mang. That lowtrail outfitters MTB is fly. Too bad about that missing peddle.
Welcome home. Go home? You can't go home again? Alice doesn't live here anymore?
balls™ in a box
Damned. Who strapped this couch to my back?
Welcome back, Wildcat. We missed you.
rescuemychikenorimmafuckinkillya
Also, I am growing weary of the same ole "recumbabe" and I am also a big fan of Lincoln. Maybe you could show me some "Recumb-Abe"
and...welcome back
Whaaaa
Maybe he's on Rikers ……
Your dreams were your ticket out.
Welcome back.
Now that's a hemp joint.
Snobbo, you missed an opportunity last week to poke fun at Cipo, Pippo, and Il Assassino at the Gran Fondo in Miami. I mean, you can still stomp on them retroactively and we would still love it. Jus' sayin' ya know.
Shit, if I knew that the Kneel before ZOD guy/gal was right behind me, I probably would have exploded forward onto the podium. That was too close for comfort.
Everyone knows you're coming to your senses and moving to Washington Heights
Weary of recumbabe? Never. GTFO.
"Fork is also bent."
yay!
hits from the bong
Cavendish got hit by a car and all we hear about is how you got hit by the "moving virus" and gentrification?
Where are my gratuitous Peta Todd snapshots?
Back to livestrong.com for all the news that's fit to print.
You thankless bastard. I raised you.
Fuck you.
-Queens
Eating pussy
I accidentally poked myself in the eye whilst eating breakfast this morning because my fork was bent.
That poster is crying out for a panda saying "Burp...sorry." Or something funny, whichever.
EPIC. MOVE.
...the nice thing about moving to a highrise is that you can just toss all those boxes off the balcony & nobody will be any wiser...
...the recommended method is to not throw them all in one night...pace yourselves...
Please don't keep us in suspense any longer wildcat, which borough did you move to? sounds like queens is out, which rules out SI. that leaves Manhattan and the Bronx. I don't see you in the bronx, so i would guess manhattan. Since you said you were moving from brooklyn because it cost to much i would say you either are somewhere north of 125th street, Washington Heights as mentioned above is a good guess. a nice place, reasonable prices and room enough for you, you wife, 17 children and 7 artisnal hand crafted bicycles. Welcome to Manhattan. If you did move to the bronx. sorry to hear that. In any case, I don't blame you for leaving twee-hipster Brooklyn. Even a short visit there triggers my gag reflex and not in a good way.
This winter the peloton says goodbye to retiring rider Dmitriy Fofonov.
My favorite memory from his career was the 2009 Asian Cycling Championships where his vicious (pedal) strokes rubbed out his competitors one by one until he came on the podium to spray the presenters.
But this apartment was different. “We both had that immediate feeling,” Ms. Fox said.
9 months later, the place is too small.
Brooklyn is like Toronto. I wandered into a condo complex in Toronto last week. On the ride up the tiny elevator, I asked the lady next to me which floor the model suite was on. She said she has no idea and to get the fuck out of her condo.
But that $500K will soon be worth $5M, because real estate is simply too big to fail.
I'm think of renting out my garage..um..."studio suite" to some 30-something Torontards for $3000/mo.
A little recumbabe is better than no recumbabe.
you forgot one detail of the nytimes article; the farm girl's boyfriend is a graphic designer who bikes to work.
very much reminds me of cambridge, ma circa 2004... which, if brooklyn follows this trend, will, in 10 years, be completely overrun by douchey 50&60-somethings milling around a whole foods lot trying to figure out which prius and/or recumbent is theirs.
Have you seen his book sales? The movie deal? the BSNYC tampons for the Japanese market? Clearly, 7th avenue.
I talked with a gentleman at The National Chicken Registry and he confirmed that the bird being clutched to the bossom of the toboggan'd lass is from the DIRECT BLOOD LINES of.....wait for it..........
Little. Jerry. Sienfeld.
THEY'RE ALL CHICKENS! THE ROOSTER HAS SEX WITH THE HENS!
That's perverse.
"farm girl's boyfriend" LOL
Of course, my dog is now responding to all queries and requests with:
"Sorry, no one here but us chickens."
I told him that was getting old fast, but of course, his reply was ....
i just hope your new surrounding still give you ample access to hilptsers, fixie devotees, those rich kids that try to live like pilgrims and have taken up some 17th century profession making hand forged horse shoes that get shipped to portland and at least a healthy dose of tri-dorks to keep things interesting.
welcome back.
well, if Queens is giving up on life, then you definitely didn't move to the bronx. Staten Island would suit your personality, but I am going with Upper Manhattan, like Inwood or Washington Heights or something.
I hear there's some really cheap places in SI right now.
Anybody know when the snob is back?
CommieCanuck, Toronto? I thought you lived in Newfoundland.
You've lost "that immediate feeling".
Snobbie, you have my sympathies. I moved in April. What a friggin' nightmare.
I'll never forget trying to move the 50 gallon fish tank down three flights of outside stairs. About the fifth step down, the thing shattered into a million pieces, and literally rained glass.
http://www.crossresults.com/racer/222
Ms. Kirshner is a former Elite cycloracer
The Heights, Inwood or Riverdale in the Boogie Down.
He moved to fucking Scranton. He's the new manager at The Office. Dwight K. Schrute and him will get along just fine.
I can't imagine anyone associated with Rapha ever suffering...unless the espresso machine is broken.
Inwood... with an outside shot at Marble Hill. Not the Bronx-- even 10+ years of NY Times Real Estate lies can't sell THAT to whitey.
Slight chance for Jersey but that's even worse than living in most of Queens.
Is there a second page to that Stolen Bamboo Bike flyer? The description is way too general without specifics on the custom toe clips.
I see the Statue of Liberty, and my study offers an unobscured view of the Empire State Building, and my bedroom balcony overlooks the polar bear habitat at the Bronx Zoo
You moved to Vegas? How's life on the Strip?
...gee, g-roc...you might be onto something...if he mentions the eiffel tower in the next few days, you'll know you nailed it...
...just sayin'...
Snob -
We missed you. But you will be happy to know that Babble and McFly kept the discussion going while you were gone. It was kind of like standing around a bonfire after the flames had died, but at least it was still warm.
You missed some comedy gold while you were gone. Specifically: http://www.cyclingnews.com/news/cipo-a-crowd-favourite-in-miamis-gran-fondo-giro-ditalia Immediately after I looked at the CyclingNews article I jumped over here to see what Your Blogginess had to say about it. I was sad when I remembered that you were on hiatus.
Anyway, I am sure that Cipo's sperm are still working their magic in Florida and that next season we will have a crop of little Cipos running around, so it's probaly still safe to write about it even though the blessed event was over a week ago.
Roosevelt Island?
Snob, if it's upper Manhattan somewhere, at least that puts you closer to the Champs Fredlysee that is 9W.
Tell the prewar character to get off the couch and unpack some boxes.
Welcome back.
This is bullshit. Snob is buying a co-op on the Upper West Side.
Don't lie Snob.
"Chickens" will be the next "Cats". Just you wait and see. All that reverse Green Acres stuff is heart-warming, though.
But I don't get it.
..."...we now live in a warren of boxes so labyrinthine that we must carry flags around with us lest we get lost..."...
...perhaps things really aren't going well for bsnyc/rtms/wcrm...
...perhaps these are cryptic messages telling us that he & the family are now living in packing containers hidden in the bushes in central park...
...perhaps those 'views' he speaks of are really photos on 'give away' calenders for the new year, tacked up on the cardboard walls...
...damn, now i'm concerned...i'm betting those big cheques from lance aren't coming in anymore, so things might be worse than snob's letting on...
...just wonderin'...
Hope you moved to upper Manhattan and if so, welcome! Lots of people riding to jobs further south in the Mornings via St. Nick's or the super bike highway known as Hudson drive.
Recumbabe was asking about you.
Your biography is finished.
Generally speaking.
Good call, Anon 3:26.
I think we have a winner.
nyt sunbathing ad... guessing that was an easter-egg.
Sunbathing ad? Welcome to BikeSnobNYC, may I refresh your chamois cream?
Our conscientious mayor is ordering the NYPD to form a poultry rescue task force.
Excuses excuses. Yarpo needs to be focusing more on the top 5 spot he/she missed by some mere fraction of a minute and looking at how to improve performance next time out, not celebrating with exclamation mark a fairly comfortably had top 10 spot.
Anyway, if he/she had been realistically in any potential podium position, rest assured that ZOD would have expertly drafted until whoosh time (ZOD)
Awwwww fuck.
Help!
I'm trapped in a vicious cycle of arts and crafts, and I can't get out!
I say I say there I am about to go all Rhode Island Red and peck this Agri-Hipsters eyes out if she does not quit PULLING ME OFF SALT HEN PEPPA when I about to get my squirt on. Hell it only takes 8 seconds I SAY I SAY let me ride that thing 8 seconds. IT'S A JOKE, SON! DO YA GET JOKES?
The girl on the weed bike had an incredibly luxureous maine of Joan Jett Black hair. It was lustrious, I bet she eats that expensive IAMS dogfood or something to achieve such an exquisite shock of black gold.
I like her hair. I like black hair.
My job sucks out my soul like nworB semaJ.
Geez Wildcat, one little moving episode and everything falls apart. A spelling error in the second sentence. "From whence," I mean come on! "From whence" is completely tautological, like "ATM machine," or "hipster douchebag."
Get a grip man!
Are you out on Long Island now Snobo?
If Brooklyn is too expensive and Queens is out then it has to be further out on the island.
So Heather....tell us more about yourself. Give us the deets. What are you into? Bikes and stuff? Immature men?
Your my density.....
Cogito, Ergo Move.
You're is short fro you are, hte, WTF!
Isolation helmet, I am guessing Massapequa.
I have patented a folding hemp mixie that when in the open position can be ridden as a conventional bicycle and when folded becomes the most audacious artisanal bong/bamboo ridged rhodesian power dildo.
Maybe Manhattan Valley (not to be confused with the UWS)? You know they recently replaced a traffic lane with a dedicated bike lane in central park, with both a slow lane and a fast lane. It's lovely.
My three Pandas are named ...
Psycho ...
Killer ...
& Qu'est que c'est
And they all have their drivers license.
All you Long Island-guessing dudes have missed that he said it's still NYC.
Good thing, too, or else the Truth in Blogging Identity Commission would be on his ass.
Nice place.
Babs, it could be worse. It could be a never-ending cycle of Seals and Crofts.
Standing around Babble will keep you warm. Cause she is smoking hot.
but a bit tacky...
Vodka you snaeky bastard...
She is probably tacky because she is built like a brick shithouse and after years of wolf calls has been brought down to their level.
jus sayin.....
You should name that Rapha image "The Three Hardmen of the Apocalypse", it's just a thought. I'm not married to the idea.
Bicycle taxidermy is pretty cool
Chip 1:48 - Cipo said to tell you "over my dead body"
For that kind of money you could buy a place around where I live big enough for a personal cyclocross circuit. Except you would soon realise that cyclocross is for "woosies" and take up motocross like everyone else.
While "Standing around the warm embers"...
I had to go pee. Did I miss anything?
Figured snobby would move to sf sooner or later. He said he likes it out here, albeit being a city marred by slow growth, insane real estate, and smug techies. The second part was me, sorry
Snob, Welcome back and congratulations on successfully moving all your stuff from one part of America to another (while simultaneously digesting the devastation of your childhood stomping grounds.) That’s a heavy load.
Nah na nah, gentlemen. It's attention seeking behaviour because my mama didn't breastfeed me.
And I love wolf calls, just not wolf culls. RCT - that sanctuary you rode through this weekend on yer pocket rocket - there's a list of the wildlife in the preserve, and yet none of the native predators live there anymore.
And I'm tacky cause I was ridden hard and put away wet.
Bike Snob moved to NJ.
No WAY.
That's me, McFly. Density. Strong like Bull Smart like Seat Post. Keeping it simple... :)
Perry -The cipocycling news link? Cheers. You've gotta love that photo of Liz, right? Mmm...nice - and she works it! That girl is some kinda beautiful.
that's a good-ass sugar cookie
...if you're referring to liz hatch, she's actually as nice as she is lovely...
...lived n' trained in this area for a while...
Snob wasn't moving house, he was over in Italy crashing into Mark Cavendish: http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/2012/nov/19/markcavendish-cycling
Thas kewwwwwwll. I like 'em slow-witted. Here's why:
Guy: "Hey Babble, I bet you can't take your panties off without taking your Fuck Me Boots off first..."
Babble: "Oh yeah motherhumper, jus' you watch this."
Guy: "Well, well...your a regular Unharry Houdini."
It was nice reading this blog. Thanks for sharing.
babbles coyotes are making a comeback in this neck of the woods. They like to dine on little furry things and birds. I know this from that one cartoon.
Who said theres anything wrong with a little tacky?
btw nice pink shoes babs.
Hey babs you saw what was at the top of that list right?
A post without a Cipo comment?????
Eating Liz Snhatch...
I'm a big bike hunter, and sure, I mount my prey on the walls. The ultimate prize is Nitto track bars and Pearl stem.
Yikes!
My first thought at the bicycle taxidermy was that it was neat. The second thought though was that we might see one on the wall of some fat redneck who drives a huge Ford F-150 and is proud that he plowed down a "damn" cyclist.
The minimalists are laughing at you, Snob.
Are you trying to make me jealous Cipo?
Hey, Queens ain't so bad, at the western parts, ethnic enclaves at every block, and the best Thai restaurant in nyc, or at least highly patronized by caucasians.
BTW - Yes, I was referring to Liz, and I'm not the slightest bit surprised that she's as sweet on the inside as she is on the outside. Truly beautiful people tend to be that way.
RCT - It's American BEAVER!!! Beavers need hard wood, you know.
The Latin translation appears to be "Cipo's tongue was here".
I just couldn't resist commenting that my "rugged wardrobe" here is comprised entirely of clothes charitably given to me in the days after the hurricane, because mine were all soaked in sewage and seawater.
Still, I get that this is all pretty funny and ridiculous. Isn't that why the NYT wrote about it in the first place?
Also, Il Bruce is correct.
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