I'm going to be there tonight and I hope you will be too.
Actually, I have to catch a train to the aforeskin-mentioned metropopolis in about nine minutes, and you'd better believe I'm typing with one hand, packing with the other, and folding up my clown bike with my feet.
I used to have a helper monkey named Vito who used to perform those sorts of mundane tasks for me (I mean writing this blog, there's no way I'd let a monkey touch my bike), but he died.
I realize it's sad but don't shed a tear for him. Vito lived by the credo "Live Fast, Dayenu."
He also got a shit-ton of "red:"
For most people a red light means stop, but for Vito it meant drop your pants and go, go, go.
Speaking of mischievous primates, a Twitterer informs me that Don Rickles rides a recumbent:
87 today & trying for 88 - riding my recumbent bike 1 hr a day, things look good, don't worry I'm still able to blow out the candles!I was unable to find a photo of Don Rickles actually riding a recumbent, which is a shame, because I now want to see a photo of Don Rickles riding a recumbent more than anything else in the world. Pending that, however, this will have to suffice:
— Don Rickles (@DonRickles) May 9, 2013
In other news via Twitter, this Twitterer alerted me to this tweet from the Brooklyn Academy of Music:
What should our David Byrne Bike Racks say next? We want your suggestions! Enter our contest here ow.ly/kExEW #bikemonth #bikenycAs you may recall, the current David Byrne bike racks in front of BAM say "micro lip," and here's my Scattante locked up to it:
— BAM (@BAM_Brooklyn) May 2, 2013
"Micro lip," of course, is a tragic affliction of the labia, and David Byrne has been one of the foremost advocates in raising public awareness of both "micro lip" and the fact that he doesn't own a car. That's why winning the BAM "What should David Byrne's next useless bike rack say?" contest is going to be laughably easy:
David Byrne's flatulent brain farts brilliance and whimsy. That's why you shouldn't complain that it takes you half an hour to figure out how to lock your bike to his racks. Instead, consider that half hour a gift and an opportunity to bask in his genius.
In more Fredly news, I noticed with amusement that James Huang, the guy who reviews all the crabon for CyclingNews and BikeRadar, is suddenly annoyed that bike companies are making too many race bikes:
This is sort of like David Byrne suddenly becoming annoyed that too many people are cycling instead of driving. Here's his reasoning:
But then again, I also cherish a sublimely smooth and refined ride, the float of higher-volume tires and the confidence of fat contact patches, gear ratios that are designed for real people, and brakes that are more than two blocks of rubber clamped on a surface whose primary function isn't friction. Race bikes are brilliant adaptations for the task at hand but they're also functionally compromised when used even slightly outside their comfort zone.
Wait, what? So who the hell has been writing all those fawning race bike reviews all this time? Also, has he been in a bike shop in the last three years? I'd argue that there are almost too many conspicuously versatile road-ish bikes now, and that yesterday's hybrid has become today's gravel grinder/cyclocross/light tourer/"all road"/whatever other terms they use--not to mention the bewildering array of gearing available. There are like 90 crank BCDs and 14 derailleur lengths now! And disc brakes are spouting everywhere, like big squealing mushrooms. In fact, I'd say this huge selection has gone past versatility and it's now just making us stupid and lazy. If I was a real writer I'd pitch some bike magazine an article wherein I only ride one (1) bicycle for an entire year, no wheel swaps or tire changes or anything else. If something wears out it has to be replaced with exactly the same thing. Of course, I realize that plenty of normal people already do this, but I'm a semi-professional blogger with a fuckload of bikes, which means I'm exactly the sort of asshole who deliberates over what to ride today in the same way an investment banker stares at his motorized tie rack for 20 minutes while his manservant burnishes his corns before finally settling on some neckwear.
Have you rationalized building a new pair of wheels for that pair of tires you use like twice a year? I have.
Also, if I really had any "pants yabbies," I'd ride only this bike for an entire year:
In the meantime, Philadelphia here I come, and I hope to see you there.
I love you.
--Wildcat Rock Machine