Wednesday Is As Wednesday Does

Given the awful news coming out of Portland I'm doing my best to remain positive, so instead of contemplating what it is about America that turns people into gun-wielding maniacs (and don't say it's the guns, because everybody knows if we were all armed to the teeth like the Second Amendment wants us to be that this sort of thing would never happen) I'll instead celebrate the capture of the "hipster bandit," as forwarded by a reader:

So what makes him a hipster bandit instead of just a regular bandit?  Here's what:


Oglesby earned the nickname the "Hipster Bandit" after a witness in the August robbery told police that he "looked like a hipster."

Thanks to that witness, police were able to narrow the list of suspects down to only the entire population of Portland.  And if you're wondering what forces a hipster to turn to a life of crime, the answer is something called "heroin:"

Once arrested, Oglesby repeated to authorities, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry,'' the complaint says. He told police he was addicted to heroin.


I think the lesson here is obvious: Stay off the heroin, because it can turn you into a total hipster.  Also, buy yourself a gun, so you don't have to rob banks with cowardly notes like some kind of hipster.

(Or, if hugs are not available, as is the case in most of America's broken homes, simply substitute hugs with guns--and plenty of prescription anti-depressants, which don't count as drugs.)

Speaking of Portland, another reader tells me there's actually a show called "American Hipster," and they made an episode all about the "freak bikes" there:


And it opens with somebody who would be an adult anywhere else in the country playing ring toss on someone's tombstone:

"We're in the cemetery and it's stupid dark out.  There are three tires and a bike I might not be familiar with riding, and I've gotta try to get as many tires as I can over the obelisk of a tombstone that may or may not be lit up with a bike light."

I always thought people moved to cities to escape the suburbs and find themselves, but I guess they do it so they can continue acting like bored teenagers well into their 30s--behavior which is often mistaken for being "inventive:"

Until recently the term "hipster" was considered a hopelessly dated cliché used only by the bitter and uncool (that's why I used it), but now it would seem that the idea is to claim it and thereby "own" it, just as other minorities have done with their own slurs.  My theory for this is that there's now a resurgence in hipster pride happening in America's trendier cities, since most formerly hipster neighborhoods (Williamsburg, for example) have since been taken over by real estate developers and garden variety rich douchebags.  Whereas once the hipsters displaced people, now they themselves have been displaced, and so they're acquiring a new veneer of sincerity and humility--unless they manage to make more money, in which case they themselves become garden variety rich douchebags.  By the way, did you know that hipsters are also bikes?  Because they are:

They're also "dangerous:"

This is evidenced by their willingness to rob banks with notes, and to eat donuts shaped like penises:

(He's got two fingers right on that donut's scranus.)

Anyway, after defining "hipster" in various ways the show goes on to explore Portland's freak bike scene:

And to talk to Jake Ryder, a freak bike fabricator:

"I started a new project, it's a drift trike?  Something I can take down the west hills over here in Portland, so it's kind of like an adult Big Wheel tricycle?"

I object very strongly to his use of the word "adult."  Just because it's bigger and he's 30 doesn't mean the word applies.

And here are some American hipsters owning the hopelessly dated cliché that is themselves:

And here's a freak bike that I suspect has toe overlap:

And here's Dabe:

(Right now a bunch of people are going, "Hey, it's Dabe!")

The show never explains who Dabe is, the implication being that if you don't already know then you're a total loser.

Anyway, my first instinct was to laugh off the whole freak bike thing as a childish waste of time.  Actually, that's still the way I feel about it, but then I realized that there's almost no difference between freak bikes and Fredliness--which is also a childish waste of time, something I'm acutely aware of being a latent Fred myself.  (Really, I'm sort of a Fred in remission since I think I've finally managed to quit bike racing and leg shaving, but there's always the possibility of a relapse.)  Consider the "Dead Babies:"

Here are two (physical) adults who actually call themselves "Arizona Dave" and "B-Lez" explaining the club's "philosophy:"

"We find these things?  Like?  Old bikes?  They used to be somebody's baby?  Like, we Frankenstein them back together? "*

*[Please note that this is not a verbatim quote, I tried to transcribe it but it hurt my brain far too much.]

Sure, they're gigantic nerds in biker vests, and sure it's embarrassing that they actually have a philosophy.  (I would have respected them a lot more if they'd simply explained themselves by saying, "Dead babies are awesome.")  At the same time, is wearing a leather vest that says "Dead Babies" any sillier than wearing a Lycra kit with the name of some local business on it that you pay to wear?  I'd argue no, and in fact I'd go so far as to say it's less silly.  Same thing goes for the goofy nicknames.  Is calling yourself "Arizona Dave" any goofier than calling yourself the "club champion" or crafting a bio for yourself on your team's website in which you actually refer to yourself as a "rouleur?"  (In amateur bike racing "rouleur" just means you suck even worse than the "climbers" and the "sprinters.")  Also no, since Arizona Dave is probably from Arizona, but the "club champion" is only the champion of the handful of people who are stupid enough to wake up that early on a weekend and ride their bikes fast before they've even had a decent bowel movement.

And what about this group ride in which the freak bikers all set out after reciting some line from a Roger Corman movie?

Yes, that too seems ridiculous--until you consider the people waking up at 4:30am, putting on Lycra outfits with local business names on them, and riding around at top speed with full colons.

At least the freak bikers probably went to the bathroom.

It's even true of the bikes themselves.  When you think about it, is this:

Any more idiotic than this?

Really, the only reason I might not pick the top bike(s) over the bottom bike is that I don't have any friends with whom to ride it.

Anyway, if nothing else, this video should serve as a wake-up call.  Let he who is without Fredliness cast the first u-lock, and so forth.  Also, cyclocross racers are not exempted from any of this, since this year cyclocross has officially gone Full Fred and is becoming increasingly indistinguishable from road racing.

That's why you should skip all of it and just get a bike sauna, forwarded by another reader:

(Two shirtless men enjoy a playful frond fight in the back of their bike sauna.)

If this bike sauna's a rockin'...

No Getting Around It: Cycling and Religion Clash Again

Few things are more stressful than awakening on a Monday morning to a full-blown local bike-related civic controversy. And once again, this one involves orthodox Jews and (forgive the simplistic catch-all term which is just too convenient not to use) hipsters in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. You'll recall not too long ago the former group was scandalized by the fact that the latter group was riding through their neighborhood and inflaming Semitic libidos by displaying muffin tops, frayed underwear elastic, tramp stamps, and pale shoulders that have never seen the sun. Well, this time, on nearby Kent Avenue, it seems that during the Sabbath the city changed the parking rules from alternate-side to no standing. The result was that the orthodox Jews were powerless to move their vehicles since they were in the grip of self-imposed Shabbos helplessness, and subsequently they all got parking tickets. And why were these parking rules so wantonly changed? Because the city is installing a bike lane on Kent Avenue--which not only means that they can no longer park their cars there, but that they will also surely be beset by more muffin tops.

You can read a little more about it in the Post, but I learned about it on local cable (yes, I have cable to go along with my hot and cold running water) news channel NY1:



Note how the bystanders in this interview are a perfect cross-section of the neighborhood as it is today. Note also that two members of the Human League were kind enough to take some time out of their busy schedules in order to attend, and that between them they almost have a complete haircut. Most importantly, it was a relatively cool 53 degrees, which prevented the situation from boiling over into a full-scale "Do The Right Thing" style riot.

While the city has rescinded the tickets, the bitterness remains, and it seems unlikely that the tensions between orthodox Jewry and cycling hipsterdom is going to go away anytime soon. And like most disagreements of this nature, the root of the problem is a lack of understanding on both sides. So once again, I feel it is incumbent upon me to put on my Cone of Mediation (it looks like a Cone of Smugness except it's got a picture of Condoleezza Rice taped to it) and try to broker a settlement.

What the orthodox Jews need to understand is that Kent Avenue is a vital part of the Great Hipster Silk Route. The hipster cultural economy depends on the easy flow of hipsters and hipster goods from Williamsburg (represented by Jerusalem) to the remote northeastern region of Astoria, Queens (represented by the Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden, the only place in Queens they know) and the southwestern region of Red Hook, Brooklyn (represented by the Obama Bike, which was photographed in Red Hook). Moreover, hipsters sojourning in all parts of Brooklyn and Queens must be able to travel to and worship in Williamsburg, which is their ancestral home. (At least since the late 1990s.)

(The Great Hipster Silk Route)

If you've ever traveled along the Great Hipster Silk Route, you've doubtless seen hipster caravans on Kent and Flushing Avenues. Like their Bedouin counterparts, they travel slowly in small groups and are often huddled together against the wind, but instead of camels they ride old crappy ten speeds and shoddy Craigslist conversions with wobbly rear wheels and steel rims, their skateboarding helmets crooked on their heads and their messenger bags brimming with dirty clothes as they perform the time-honored ritual known as the "ride of shame."

Sure, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "It's 2008. The hipsters can exchange their cultural currency on the internet." Not so. Even today the hipster cultural economy relies heavily on the Great Hipster Silk Route. What happens when a hipster in Red Hook wants a tattoo that can only be obtained in Greenpoint, or a hipster in Long Island City wants to drink with and attempt to mate with a hipster in Clinton Hill, or a hipster in Fort Greene wants to rehearse with his bandmates in Dumbo? And that's to say nothing of the drugs and STDs, both of which are key components of hipster culture and which even today are still not downloadable.

Of course, like a recent Bard graduate this situation swings both ways, and what the hipsters need to understand is that double-parked minivans in the advanced stages of road salt-induced corrosion that perform u-turns suddenly and without warning are as essential to orthodox Jews as riding crappy bikes to crappy bars is to hipsters. In fact, the Talmud sets forth highly specific rules pertaining to the mandatory use of a cellphone while driving, the placement of bumper stickers bearing the likeness of Menachem Schneerson, and the sacred use of a coat hanger in place of an antenna. Also, what may appear to be seriously erratic driving is actually ritual driving, and if you were to watch from above you'd realize they are spelling out Hebrew prayers.

Armed with this knowledge I'm confident that both groups can take at least one more step towards understanding each-other and living in harmony.

I'm way less confident about the economy, though. It's one thing when things like investment banks are suffering; it's something else entirely when it's affecting cyclists directly. A reader recently forwarded me this troubling Craigslist ad:

Colnago Road Bike - $4000 (Upper East Side)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2008-10-26, 7:15PM EDT

Beautiful hand crafted frame with a one of a kind paint job, with top of the line gears (dura ace), mavic cosmic elite wheels, computer, carbon fiber seat post and stem, paid $5000 year ago for this bike, economy got me down, have to sell, take advantage, your gain, a sure beauty for any bike collector/enthusiast -- Price is negotiable

It is hard to match the tie-dyed ugliness that is a Colnago, and it's always sad when someone is forced to part with one. Understandably, this particular seller is too distressed to mention small details like frame size and model, though judging from the photographs it's one of the older aluminum ones. These truly are rare bicycles, since most of them broke. Still, it's upsetting to see the economy forcing someone to part with his baby, even if that baby looks like something you might find in a hippie's laundry hamper.

Concerned, I realized I had to take a closer look at the cycling economy--one that looks beyond the PistaDex. As such, I amassed some data in order to determine the current Chris King Headset Composite Index:

Unlike the PistaDex, which is influenced by fashion as much as it is by the economy, the CKHCI is a much more reliable indicator of people's willingness to part with money for used bicycle products. If you're unfamiliar with the Chris King headset, it is a component that retails for about $130. Online retailer Competitive Cyclist says the bearings are made from "surgical grade stainless steel," which is essential if you ever need to smuggle it in a body cavity, and that they "provide an impervious barrier to the worst grit and grime of riding," which makes them ideal for hipsters on the Great Hipster Silk Route since they are usually pretty grimy.

Unfortunately, though, grimy people usually can't afford them, since even used Chris King headsets generally sell for pretty close to what new ones cost. This makes them probably the most conservative investment in the cycling world. Of course, if Chris King headsets start going cheap, you know we're all in trouble. Looking at the data above, you'll note that the average closing price for the six headsets that sold on eBay recently was $89.79, which means that the CKHCI is 89.79. (The CKHCI does not account for variables such as headset color, diameter, or threads or lack thereof, since these rarely affect a headset's cost in the used marketplace.) Generally, I don't grow alarmed or suspicious unless a Chris King headset trades below $70.

The PistaDex in New York City is at 475 right now, which is a bit low but not alarmingly so. And with the nationwide CKHCI hovering at around 90 I'm cautiously optimistic. Together, I sincerely hope we can get through this. So don't go throwing your ugly babies out with the bathwater quite yet.

Cult Following: Harbingers of the Apocalypse

(Jackalope by Erik K)

Further to yesterday's post, I am still having trouble reconciling the hillbilly-esque "hipster" (or hipster-esque "hillbilly") pictured with the can of PBR. Certainly this co-mingling of styles is nothing new--it dates back at least to Bob Dylan. Still, there's just something unsettling about the current incarnation, and in an attempt to understand it I delved deeper into the photo album and found this photo of the same person in repose at home:



Scanning the room, the majority of visible elements seem to fall into the "hipster" column:



While the adjustable wrench and the PBR can go both ways, and while "hipsters" rarely wear white socks, overall I don't think it would be inappropriate to consider this person a "hipster." But the proverbial jackalope in the room is, of course, the pistol. Until now, "hipsters" resisted guns as fervently as they resisted sincerity. So the advent of a new breed of gun-toting "hipster" is a disturbing sign.

So why might a "hipster" feel the need to arm himself? Is he protecting his slovenly home from some malevolent third party's attempts to clean it? Has excessive marijuana smoking made him paranoid? Did he simply find it nestled in his beard one morning after a long night of excessive PBR consumption? No, I don't think any of these explanations are adequate. Unfortunately, the implications are probably far more insidious.

As incongruous as a gun-toting "hipster" may seem, there is certainly historical precedent for this behavior. The last "hipsters" to take up arms were the Symbionese Liberation Army in the 1970s:


The SLA were most famous for kidnapping heiress Patty Hearst and robbing a bank. It could be then that the armed "hipsters" from yesterday's post are planning a similar caper. Perhaps they plan to kidnap Paris Hilton, go to a track bike boutique, and steal a bunch of cogs.

But probably the most famous "hipsters" to use deadly weapons were the Manson Family in the late 1960s:



Under the command of Charles Manson, the Manson Family concocted what was probably the most ambitious plan ever devised by a group of "hipsters." Basically, they were going to make a Beatles-esque album. Obviously, all groups of four or more "hipsters" attempt to record an album at some point, so this is not remarkable in itself. But the Family did not stop there. This album was going to be so great that it was going to incite an apocalyptic race war in which the blacks would annihilate the whites, which the Family would wait out in some kind of underground city. (This is not as far-fetched as it sounds, because most "hipster" music does make you want to kill white people.) But like most "hipsters," they couldn't really get the album together, and instead of following "hipster" tradition by simply ditching their plans and talking vaguely about making a movie, they decided to kill a bunch of people. The lesson, of course, is that when "hipsters" plan, bad things happen. "Hipsters" are like titanium bottom bracket spindles--put too much pressure on them and they crack.

So I'm relatively certain that the "hipsters" from yesterday's post are tragically following in the Manson family's footsteps. By selling that old Gitane conversion for $300, they hope to jump-start the Fixed-Gear Apocalypse. Once it's underway, they'll probably hunker down somewhere with a few years' supply of canned beer until the land has been laid to waste and the fixed-gear riders smote. Then, they can re-emerge as the only fixed-gear riders in the world. I only hope they don't grow impatient in the meantime and begin to kill.

Speaking of the Fixed-Gear Apocalypse, there's no shortage of signs out there--as long as by "signs" you mean weird bikes. For example, a reader has sent me this horrifying photo, which reveals what bicycle hunters call a "six-point buck":


So it is written in the "Book of Redundancy":

"There shall come a bicycle, and that bicycle's handlebars shall have barends, and those barends shall in turn have barends. And there shall be much sorrow and rending of Primal jerseys."

Then I saw this specimen, also foretold by the "Book of Redundancy":


"Atop a steer tube extender shall be clamped an adjustable stem, which in turn shall be angled heavenward. To the bars shall be clamped a mount for a GPS, or perhaps an electric shaver, and to the seatpost shall be clamped a reverse-entry clipless saddle. Its rider shall reap the souls of fixed-gear riders, and he shall place them in his Jandd bag for easy portage."

Even more horrifying was this Cervelo, spotted by Daddo.one:


While at first glance it appears to be as fine a bicycle as you're likely to find under any dentist, closer inspection reveals this terrifying saddle:


I don't know what creature's buttocks one might find perched atop a saddle like that, but I can only imagine that it is cleft in twain to make room for the tail of Satan himself.

I also recently spotted this early 90s Paramount:

One might think the fact that it still retains its original derailleur drivetrain (not to mention its original pie plate) and has not been converted to a fixed-gear despite having horizontal dropouts is an encouraging sign. However, note the paint job, which happens to be virtually identical to Ratt vocalists Stephen Pearcy's unitard circa 1984:

Clearly the fact that a bike from the early 90s has an early 80s paintjob means it exists perpetually 8-10 years in the past. Essentially, it's an apparition, and eventually it will be converted to a fixed-gear--but by then the Apocalypse will have already happened and nobody will be alive to see it. Not even this poor, innocent Pista, with it's saggy chain and droopy saddle:



And its incongruously perky bars:


It is with this tragic countenance that it shall greet its demise.

But probably the most disturbing sign I've come across was this warehouse in Brooklyn, which appears to be housing some kind of pedal-driven contraption:



I wasn't about to run afoul of the dog, and I wouldn't be surprised if there were some armed "hipsters" in there too. It's possible this is some kind of flying machine, or else some kind of "lunar cycle." In any case I think someone may be building the cycling equivalent of Noah's Ark.

I hope they can find a male and a female jackalope.

These Colorways Don't Fade: Interviews, Encounters, and Collabos

Further to yesterday's post, I must say that one of the best parts about reviewing a Dutch city bike (or at least a designer interpretation of a Dutch city bike) is that one is automatically exempted from using the terms that are otherwise mandatory in bike reviews. These terms include: hoops, stoppers, clampers, rubber, and skins. (Incidentally, in S&M circles those things plus a bottle of wine equal a romantic evening.) Furthermore, one is also exempted from citing the bike's lateral stiffness and vertical compliance, as well as referring almost sensually to the "beefiness" of the bottom bracket, as epitomized in the famous Neuvation video.

However, if you found yourself missing any of these things, perhaps this video will help tide you over until the next James Huang review "drops:"



That must be the new BB30 standard everybody's talking about.

But while I have no idea to whom the above bottom bracket belongs, I can say with assurance that it is not attached to a hipster, since hipsters tend towards the small and diminutive. (You could smother at least three hipsters to death with that posterior.) And speaking of hipsters, there is a brief interview with me in the current issue of "The Fader," which can probably best be described as a "hipster" magazine:

In my defense, I was drinking during the interview, and unlike Tom Boonen who blacks out and has "indirect contact" with cocaine when he drinks, I just say boring things to hipster magazines. Also, there's a photo of me or else someone purporting to be me doing some kind of contrived urban cyclocross maneuver. Hey, that shark's not going to jump itself. However, I will deny any accusations that I did it "for the hipster pussy," unlike this person:

That said, if I was motivated by "hipster pussy," this interview could only help, since one day maybe I'll get invited to a party thrown by "The Fader." In addition to a number of articles about various bands and rappers, the current issue contains images from one of these parties, which from the looks of it was not lacking in the Impassioned Hipster Dancing department:


Also, it appears as though furry cossack hats may be the new flat-brim fitted caps, and patterned cashmere mufflers may be the new keffiyeh. It's a good thing the woman from the BB30 bottom bracket video wasn't there, though. I have a feeling nobody would have made it out of there alive.

Of course, the fact is that even if I did attend one of these Impassioned Hipster Dancing parties, I probably wouldn't have much to talk to people about, since from the looks of the crowd they probably aren't conversant in the relative merits of the various bottom bracket standards, and they'd probably be quite bored by my thoughs on them. (Though the one person who rode a fixie to the party would probably say "square taper FTW!" at some point.) Really, the best I could do would be to refer knowingly to some of the bands on this "mix tape," which was sent to me by Barry Wicks:


Wicks actually sent me a first "mix tape" back in March, and I was extremely grateful to receive another one. Even better, in addition to providing me with Impassioned Hipster Dancing party small-talk, he also provided me with an ironic t-shirt to wear. Behold:



Yes, that's Barry Wicks with an Afro making karate-love to a flower. I can't help suspecting that Barry Wicks may be about to "drop" an energy drink, because I'm sure a beverage called "Wicknasty" with this image on the can would fly out of the bodega refrigerators. So I'd like to extend a sincere thank-you to Barry Wicks for the excellent hipster party survival kit, and if any of you wind up at an Impassioned Hipster Dancing party and see someone standing in the corner wearing a "Wicknasty" t-shirt and making awkward chit-chat about bottom brackets, come by and say "hello" because it's almost certainly me, and I'll almost certainly be really uncomfortable.

Speaking of comfort, I recently stumbled upon some photos of actress Famke Jansen looking a bit too comfortable on a Dutch city bike:

If yesterday's review inspired you to join the legions of people already happily palping Dutch city bikes, look no further than this pictorial for a guide to how to ride one properly. Yes, in a certain way the Dutch city bike is the SUV of bicycles--it's a little too big, it creates the illusion of safety, and nobody pays any attention when they're operating one.

Still, a Dutch city bike is downright stealthy when compared to a recumbent:


9:30pm, 2nd ave Brunnette on Bike 35th st to 10th(?) st. - m4w (East Village)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-06-24, 11:26PM EDT

Hi--

I realize the chances of you seeing this are slim, slim, slim...but just in case lightning strikes---

We were riding bikes near each other down Second Avenue tonight. You have brown hair and brown eyes. Were wearing a white helmet and blue jeans and riding a blue 10 or 12 speed semi-vintage type of bike. I was on the recumbent.

You turned onto second Ave around 36th street (and narrowly avoided a cab at 35th street!) and then rode down Second before turning left on 10th street (?) or so.

I was totally struck by your looks (and liked the way you ride) and was hoping there would be a good opening to say hi... Hard of course as we were both kind of racing down the street, but... if you happen to see this, I'd love to race you to a coffee sometime!


Then again, a recumbent is stealthy in its own way, since the rider can prowl around the city safely below eye level like a U-boat of dorkitude. Even this post is stealthy--notice how he just slipped in the fact that he was on a recumbent in the same way that you'd gloss over the fact that you're already married or you have an STD. We've seen recumbent riders on the make before, and it wouldn't surprise me if the city is teeming with them. Nor would I be surprised to learn that some of them are equipped with crotchal periscopes in the hopes of encountering Famke Jansen or oversized bottom brackets. Maybe we'll see a RANS recumbent x U.S. Submarines "collabo" in the near future.

In the meantime, though, we'll have to make due with more fixed-gear "collabos." Here's one in the P.K. Ripper "colo[u]rway:"

Yes, heads will turn and bars will spin when you make the scene on your ironic nostalgia machine. Just top it off with a "Comeplaypolo" t-shirt and you'll be a shotgun blast of cycling references. Is "warmed over" a colorway?

Regardless, it seems as though people aren't going to tire of "collabos" (or "collabia," which is technically the plural form of "collabo") and limited editon colourways anytime soon. Even Tweeting celebrity Dennis Hopper is getting in on the act:



It looks like we'll have to wait a little longer for the Hopper x Krylon dayglo pussy "collabo" to drop, since Dennis Hopper seems to be wandering around his house in his underpants (he doesn't say that but with Hopper it's just assumed), rattling a spraypaint can and cooing, "Here, kittykittykitty!" He probably shouldn't have Tweeted about it, though, since now PETA's liable to join the collabo too.

But I'm sure he means well. He's only doing it for the hipster pussy.

BSNYC Friday Fun Quiz!

I used to live in a place called Brooklyn, and I still enjoy keeping abreast of the local affairs there because it makes me feel really happy that I moved.  For example, some people in Bay Ridge are apparently very upset about the opening of a "hipster bar" in their neighborhood:

I can certainly understand their concern, though upon closer inspection it turns out that these humble, simple-minded folk are mostly just confused victims of "hipster hysteria:"

“This idea of bringing a young crowd from Williamsburg and Park Slope, it’s unacceptable,” said Elizabeth Pabian, whose backyard borders the Fifth Avenue space between 92nd and 93rd streets where skinny-jean-and-flannel-clad customers will soon sip craft beers from the Midwest. “My whole life will change.”

Firstly, no self-respecting hipster would travel all the way from Williamsburg to Bay Ridge to drink beer.  That's like owning a custom bicycle but traveling all the way across town to borrow your friend's Magna.  Secondly, even if they did, they wouldn't "sip craft beers from the Midwest."  They'd be Midwesterners sipping craft beers, since that's where most people in the trendy parts of Brooklyn come from now.  By the way, here's a photo of the Pabian family:

Fear garden: The Pabian family is petitioning to stop the planned and so-called “hipster beer garden,” The Lockyard, from coming to Bay Ridge — worried that patrons from Northern Brooklyn will bring a tidal wave of noise and property damage.

The Pabians should get their own house in order first, because their son is obviously a closeted hipster.  They needn't worry about any "property damage" though.  Hipsters are typically too frail to break anything, which is why they're the only cyclists in the world still able to ride Spinergys:

(It's like riding on eggshells.)

Of course, the owner of the bar is equally to blame, since everyone knows you never tell anybody you're opening a "hipster bar."  You're supposed to lull the community into a false sense of security by telling them you're opening a sports bar where Thursday will be "homophobia night."  That way, by the time you open and the neighbors see the "bike pile" out front, it will be too late for them to do anything.  Now that's a cunning scheme--almost as cunning as a newspaper taking a boring story about some people in a boring neighborhood who are understandably worried about noise in their neighborhood and trolling for clicks by gratuitously inserting the word "hipster" into every paragraph.

Honestly, I'd expect better from a paper owned by Rupert Murdoch.

Meanwhile, in bike racing news, the Tour of the Battenkill is replacing its pro race with a Gran Fondo:

Unsurprisingly, no sensible company wants to waste its money on pro cyclists anymore:

In November Drake said that things were tough for American races. “The situation right now is impossible. I have had sponsors tell me flat out that we are not going to do any sponsorship in cycling, at least for the foreseeable future. Continental teams in the US have had similar discussions with their own sponsors too; its very hard.”

Which is why Freds are the new pros:

“We needed to make room for the Gran Fondo event which is in pretty high demand,” he told VeloNation today. “There are also fewer and fewer good reasons to be involved in professional cycling these days so it had to go, unfortunately. Many of our sponsors are much more interested interest in Gran Fondo style events and we hope to expand on this format going forward while keeping the traditional age group and category races that are very popular as well.”

Sure, Freds dope just as much as the pros do, but at least they pay for stuff themselves.

And now, I'm pleased to present you with a quiz.  As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer.  If you're right you'll emit a shrill giggle, and if you're wrong you'll see flatulence.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and ride flatulent.


--Wildcat Rock Machine

1) Which band filmed a video in Portland featuring scores of naked white people and a hairy vagina ball?

--The Flaming Lips
--Grizzly Bear
--The Grizzly Lips
--Slayer

(Like "Frenzy," only smellier.)

2) A Portland man allegedly attempted to strangle his girlfriend with his:

--Dreadlocks
--Penis
--Wallet chain
--Noxiously smug aura of self-satisfaction

(Since filming "Premium Rush," Gordon-Levitt has continued to ride fixed-gear and singlespeed bicycles.)

3) Joseph Gordon-Levitt garnered a top 20 finish in the singlespeed race at the Cyclocross National Championships in Madison, Wisconsin.

--True
--False

(A scene from the movie "I Am Not A Hipster" where you can see a butt.)

4) The film "I am Not A Hipster" has been described as:

--"A stunningly assured debut feature.  Think 'Five Easy Pieces' with indie-rock instead of piano."
--"'The Graduate' for millennials."
--"A stunningly assured debut feature.  Think 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind' with hipsters instead of aliens."
--"The most unfortunate film since Ang Lee and Spike Lee collaborated on the universally panned 'Mo' Better Brokeback.'"

5) The New York City Department of Transportation will transform 12,000 obsolete parking meters into:

--Bike racks
--Bike share docking stations
--Electric car charging stations
--Canoe mooring stations in anticipation of rising sea levels caused by climate change

(Sometimes a little reading material can help get things moving.)

6) The New York Times recently reported that three out of five New Yorkers admit to relieving themselves inside a phone booth at least once during the past four weeks.

--True
--False

("Is my scranus supposed to hurt like this?")

7) New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg says bike share is:

--The "wave of the future"
--"Pie in the sky"
--"Smugness incarnate"
--"Now delayed until at least 2016"

***Special Oprah-Themed Bonus Question***

(One of these Oprahs is actually Phil Liggett.  Can you guess which?)

In a scandal that just keeps getting weirder, it's been revealed that Lance Armstrong was planning to fake his Oprah interview, and had actually arranged to sit down with Phil Liggett in a fatsuit.

--True
--False