Short Supply: Scrounging for Heroes

As "Shitstorm 2012" continues to rain "number two" upon the world of professional cycling, fans everywhere are becoming disillusioned with their heroes.  However, it's vital to remember that there are still cyclists who deserve our adulation.  Moreover, hero worship is an essential component of our culture, and without it we might find ourselves instead clinging to false idols like Nobel laureates, philanthropists, disaster relief volunteers, and other shiftless layabouts.  So if your favorite cyclist has gone from hero to arithmetical symbol denoting the absence of all magnitude or quantity in your eyes, here are just a few people still worthy of your eternal obsequiousness:

Cartoonish Ex-Pros

(Mario Cipollini dressed like a veiny penis.)

Sure, it's disillusioning to read a sworn affidavit in which your favorite rider confesses to pumping all manner of PEDs into his scranus.  However, there are some riders who are so cartoonishly outsized as to transcend prosaic issues such as "ethics."  Consider Mario Cipollini for example.  Did Did he cheat during his career?  Almost certainly.  Does anybody care?  Fork no!  Getting upset at Mario Cipollini for taking drugs is like being outraged that James Bond drove his Aston Martin too soon after drinking his shaken-but-not-stirred martinis.  Really, you'd almost be disappointed if he didn't do it.  [Fun Cipollini fact: other riders would often surreptitiously collect The Lion King's hair drippings and use them to make cutaneous testosterone patches.]

By the way, Cipollini was never part of an "omerta."  It's just that it's very difficult to talk while you're engaged in the act of cunnilingus:

Amateurs Who Are Good At Branding Themselves

Remember "MASHSF?"

(Like "Dead Poets Society," only with more "attitude.")

For years Chas, Walton, Tag, Muffy, Buffy, Billiam, Pierce, and Preston bravely stuck it to Volvo-driving people from Marin by running red lights in front of them on their fixies and selling videos about it.  Now they're racing cyclocross because that's just what you do now.  Wear their kit and hang their pin-ups on your wall confident in the knowledge that they'll always be on the cutting-edge of go-fast cycling style until they reach the age of 40.  And if MASH isn't your overpiced "collabo" bag, rest assured that there are a gazzillion "collectives" just like them all over the country.  Yes, professional cycling may be crumbling, but it's never been a better time to be an amateur.  All you need is some friends, a GoPro, and a jersey pre-order.

Cycling Advocates

Q: What do Lance Armstrong, George Hincapie, Levi Leipheimer, David Zabriskie, and Michael Barry have in common?

A: They all own cars!

You know who doesn't own a car?  This guy:

(A Citroën isn't a car, technically it's an affectation.)

Also, David Byrne doesn't have to be a cycling advocate.  If he wanted he could just let those Talking Heads royalties roll in while he throws lavish ambient hot tub parties with Brian Eno.  Instead, he works tirelessly in his spare time to promote the cause of cycling by constructing incredibly awkward bike racks in front of places frequented by gentrifiers:

("Hey Dave, there's a Scattante in your lip!")

Yes, he doesn't advocate for us because he has to.  He does it because he loves us.  Or at least himself.  In the end, what's the difference, really?

Huh?  Whah?  What's that you say?  David Byrne isn't for you?  To "hoity-toity?" Well, he's not the only tartan-attired fish in the sea of celebrity smugness.  Meet Matthew Modine, the only bicycle advocate to have starred in a Stanley Kubrick film (not counting Congressman Earl Blumenauer, who was the original voice of the HAL 9000 supercomputer in 2001 until he was overdubbed by Douglas Rain shortly before the film's release):

(Matthew Modine looks like the illegitimate offspring of a tweed ride and a singlespeed world championship.)

Sure, Modine may be the Dauphiné Libéré to Byrne's Tour de France, but in many ways he's also the "working man's Byrne"--though in many other ways he's just the smirky guy from "Married to the Mob."

Oh, okay, I get it.  You don't relate to these glitzy celebrities with their flashy Citroëns and their comically oversized golf hats.  You want a real man of the people to be your advocate.  Well, allow me to introduce you to Mikael Colville-Andersen, proprietor of Copenhagen Cycle Chic:

("If I don't wear these glasses people mistake me for the drummer of Metallica.")

For years, Colville-Andersen has taken surreptitious photographs of hot chicks on bikes in the streets of Copenhagen, all in the name of advocacy.  Just imagine Bill Cunningham and Bob Guccione fighting for control of the body of Lars Ullrich and you've got the idea.  So why does he deserve your adulation?  Well, because he's not going to rest until cycling becomes a mainstream mode of transportation in every great city of the world--or until he finally catches that elusive "bare vag" shot, whichever comes first:

("Not this time, Mikael!")

Until then, he awaits that "perfect storm" of an attractive woman, a short skirt, a strong crosswind, and an ill-considered laundry day decision to just "freebuff" it.

The Bike Companies

So what happens if you're fed up with pro cycling because of the doping, yet you still crave constant recriminations and legal battles?  Well, just follow the bicycle retail industry instead!  You'll get all the courtroom drama with absolutely none of the on-the-bike action!  Remember Sinyard vs. Volagi?  How juicy was that?  And now, Knog tells me that Abus stole their idea for the "sausage lock:"

Abus claims there's "no reason" for any "consumer confusion," though I'd disagree.  Here's the Knog version: 

And here's the Abus version:

I'm pretty confused.  In any case, Abus also denied accusations that they had copied the Kryptonite "u-lock," and pointed out that their own iteration was distinctive due to its Teutonic umlauts:

By the way, you may scoff at the idea of a sausage lock, but the fact is that it's a very hot retail segment.  Even Mario Cipollini is marketing a sausage lock:

(Cipollini sausage lock in the "celebrate diversity" colorway.)

Neither Knog nor Abus have any issue with the design, though Cipollini is being sued by several sex toy manufacturers.

Riders Who Get Attacked By Bees

The USADA may have stirred up a hornet's nest, but there's no on-the-bike drama more painfully riveting than the slings and arrows of outrageous bee stings:



Insert your own "Honey Stinger" jokes here.

It's Wednesday. Go Ahead and Take the Day Off, Tell Whoever I Said It Was OK.

Last yesterday night I half-paid semi-attention to the Presidential debate.  As usual, both candidates totally sidestepped the issues that are most important to the American people, and incredibly neither one made a single mention of the USADA's reasoned decision.  Instead it was all oil and taxes and jobs and blahblahblah.  Sure, their brief exchange on the relative merits of SRAM, Campagnolo, and Shimano was a welcome detour into relevance, but other than that it was all just a giant smokescreen.

Meanwhile, the sporting world continues to demand a confession from Lance Armstrong--but now they're playing the "hard ball" by threatening his Olympic bronze:

Nooo!!!  Not the bronze!  Somehow I don't think this is going to do it.  "Sure, you can have all seven of my Tour de France wins, but please, please, PLEASE, not my second loser prize!"  That would be like withstanding a solid week of interrogation with a car battery attached to your scranus and then finally confessing when they threaten to put a Band-Aid on your arm hair and pull it off slowly.

Also, in Portland adjacent, protesters are calling for Nike to drop Lance Armstrong as a spokesman:*

Right, sure.  The only way Nike will drop you as a spokesman is if you kill a bunch of dogs, and then they'll only do it temporarily.  Maybe if someone exposed Lance Armstrong as the head of a Texas cockfighting ring they'd let him go for a couple months, but other than that I don't see it happening.  Really, expecting integrity from Nike makes expecting integrity from the sport of professional cycling seem sensible in comparison.  Then again, Nike have made some important contributions over the years, such as:

--Paying Spike Lee and Michael Jordan to market the "Air Jordan," the first sneaker that could get a teenager shot in the face;
--Employing thousands of young children all over the world;
--Pioneering various innovative corporate motivational techniques and incentive programs:

Now this is how you make a quality product:

Workers at the Sukabumi plant, about 60 miles from Jakarta, say supervisors frequently throw shoes at them, slap them in the face, kick them and call them dogs and pigs.

Who the hell is the supervisor at that factory, El Guapo from "The Three Amigos?"  I don't know about you, but it puts a real spring in my step knowing that my sneaker might have been used to whack someone in the face.  Of course, to Westerners it may sound like these factory workers are complaining, but the truth is they're actually happy, since things are a lot worse down the street at the clothes iron factory.  (You certainly don't want to get clocked with one of those.)  Also, the highlight of any Nike factory worker's year is when the company flies their celebrity athletes to the factory and allow them to beat the workers personally.  (In the shoe industry, this is called the "Nike Holiday Bonus.")  Nothing gives you pride in your work like taking a golf cleat to the face from Tiger Woods.

But yeah, they really need to stop sponsoring the naughty bike racer.

*Well holee crap, I was wrong on that one!  That'll teach me to post early.

Speaking of competition and ruthlessness, you might recall I was running a cockpit contest, because I certainly don't.  I do realize I've been somewhat organic ("organic" means "lazy") in "curating" this contest, but do I feel a winner coming on soon (either that or I need to go to the bathroom), and one contender who has made his way to the front of the pack is esteemed commenter "Daddo One:"

I'd criticize him for not getting closer to the specimen, but I can't because: a) I'm a worse photographer than he'll ever be; and 2) I'd be scared of that thing too.

Also, while not technically a cockpit contest submission, another reader has forwarded me this:

I'm fairly certain that fairing isn't UCI legal.

Oh, hey, remember when I was talking about getting nailed in the face with a shoe?  Well, would you rather take a shot from one with a clit or one without a clit?

(Via another reader.)

Bike for sale - $140 (Gunbarrel)
Date: 2012-10-16, 5:13PM MDT

I'm selling a used bike in good conditions. No suspension. Has a small rack in the back. 140$

I'm also selling 2 pair of bike shoes for women(clits are not included).
One pair is brand new, never have been used, Goretek (size 6 US). Price 90$
The other pair are also Shimano, have been used 4 times. perfect conditions (size 6.5 US). Price 90$
If you're interested in any of these items send me an email or text/call me 720-442-[deleted]
Thanks!
Maria

Also, you know who has trouble operating a clit?  Triathletes.  That's why they need to wear special shoes like this, as forwarded by yet another reader:

$400 buys you a tridork flipper with some kind of special retractable heel retainer:

Raise high the drawbridge, tridorks!  It's time to transition!  After all, you don't want this happening to you:

Obviously if he'd had shoes with a special heel drawbridge he would have "breezed through that transition" and this never would have happened:

At least he was wearing his helment--though he really should have been wearing sneakers and using flat pedals.

Public Service Harassment: Help Us Help You Get Run Over

In the world of competitive cycling, there is obviously glory in being at the front of the pack, and there's also a certain dignity in being the lanterne rouge (mostly because you get to be smug about not doping).  The middle of the pack is where all the indignity lies.  In fact, the only indignity worse than being in the middle of the pack is being in the middle of the pack and then getting attacked by bees:

Stage 1 of the Bridge Cape Pioneer Trek international mountain bike stage in the Oudtshoorn region of South Africa was hit by a unexpected surprise when a group of mid-pack riders was met by a swarm of bees approximately 60km in the 103km stage from Oudtshoorn to Calitzdorp on Monday.

A total of 30 riders were badly stung and treated at the scene and nine were rushed to hospital for treatment at the Medi Clinic in Oudtshoorn.


That's gotta suck.  Fortunately, most of the riders are are okay, which is why I feel comfortable joking about it:

Carel Herholdt, of the event organisers Dryland, confirmed that the majority of the hospitalised riders were released on Monday evening and would be able to continue in the race.

And while we're on the subject, here's an encore screening of one of the most thrilling cycling films ever made, "MAN GETTING ATTACKED BY BEES:"



As Homer Simpson once said, "They're defending themselves somehow!"  In any case, this is surely the "Grizzly Man" of cycle touring movies.

Meanwhile, in other competitive cycling news, Michael Barry thinks the sport is too hard:

The environment remains precarious on every level. Cyclists are required to sacrifice most other aspects of their lives to reach the top. Virtually year-round, we lead ascetic lives, where each movement on and off our bikes is calculated so we will perform to the best of our abilities. The demands are high.

His solution to this problem seems to be that the riders should race less and get more money.  This is a charmingly Canadian way of looking at things, though I'm unconvinced.  In fact, I think the only way to rid the sport of doping is to remove any and all forms of compensation whatsoever.

Sure, these guys work really hard, but when you think about it all they're doing is riding bikes as fast as they can, and riding a bike as fast as you can contributes about as much to society as the act of masturbating.  In fact, both acts are remarkably similar in that they can be lots of fun, they're not really hurting anybody, but they're not exactly helping either.  (Though I suppose both help your partner in that they leave you too exhausted to bother them.)  Therefore, like masturbating, riding bikes fast should be something people do entirely in their spare time--even at the highest level of the sport.  Stop enabling these people!  If a typical Cat 4 is willing to completely demean himself for a "pro deal" on a Cannondale what do you think a professional is going to do when an actual living is on the line?  Of course they're cheating!  The only solution is to give these people less, not more, and to treat riding bicycles fast like the act of onanism that it is.  (Sure, there are people who get paid to masturbate, but I'm sure they're using performance-enhancing drugs too.)

Of course, there's still the danger that riders may cheat so that they can capitalize on their victories in other ways (like writing books or opening fast food restaurant chains), but if we all do our part and completely and totally ignore all forms of bicycle racing then maybe they'll all just go away.

By the way, did you know that Dr. Michele Ferrari has a website and you can still hire him to coach you?

Though if you're wondering what it will cost you, that depends on your "exigencies:"

Due to the exclusive nature of the relationship with the athlete, your training solution will be personally priced in accordance with your exigencies, objectives specificity and possibilities as well as duration of the membership.

Feel free to discuss and plan together with us the best training solution to achieve your goals Ð send us an email to admin@53x12.com 

Quality and efficiency are the very basis of our training. 
Flexibility and exclusivity are the foundation of our service.

Which is why I've just sent him an email with the subject line "Cat 6 racer willing to do anything to make it."  Hopefully he'll understand what I mean by "anything" (that's street slang for TAKING DRUGS), though he does assert elsewhere on his site that he does not provide doping services:

As clearly demonstrated in Exibit A by Jack Robertson, this collaboration consisted exclusively of advice on training, saddle height adjustments, aerodynamic positioning, locations for training programs and competitions: NOTHING to do with doping. 

I understand completely.  So, like, how many ampoules of "saddle height" do I need to be the fastest guy over the Williamsburg Bridge?

Alas, the truth is that in cycling the only real heroes are the commuters.  The regular people.  The rank-and-file.  The ones who don't take the bus, even when it rains. (I lifted those last four sentences verbatim from yesterday's post, which is how we bike bloggers dope.  It's called a "homogeneous word transfusion.")  Unfortunately, as far as most of America is concerned, these real heroes can go fuck themselves, which is why in Boston they're posting ads like this:

(Wait, his head looks fine.  So if he had been wearing a helment he wouldn't have cut his chin?)

In other words, anything that happens to you when you don't have a piece of foam strapped to your head is your own damn fault as far as they're concerned.  Actually, anything that happens to you when you do have a piece of foam strapped to your head is also your own damn fault as far as they're concerned.  The helment is just your tacit acknowledgement that they can continue to drive recklessly.  Really, it's mostly just a threat thinly disguised as a PSA.

Also, it's worth pointing out that, at least in New York City, the dumbest riders you'll see are usually wearing helments.  (That doesn't mean that you shouldn't wear one.  It just means that congratulating yourself for wearing a helment is like congratulating yourself for masturbating.)  In particular, there is a direct relationship between doing completely idiotic things on a bicycle and wearing a slightly crooked Nutcase helment.  The streets are now teeming with riders on "vintage" ten speeds and My-First-Fixies in freewheel mode (front brake only, of course), salmoning and riding through red lights with that stupid "draftee in a foxhole" look of fear on their faces, as though some inexorable force is pulling them through the traffic signal or against traffic.  (I guess in their case a bicycle is technically an "inexorable force" since they have no idea how to control it.)  Of course, it's all perfectly fine because they're wearing their helments.  Their poorly-adjusted, off-kilter, "Hey, I've got a watermelon on my head!" helments.

(I guess people really want to look like watermelons.)

Furthermore, many of these riders are also using the new "serval" bicycle saddles, forwarded to me by a reader:

Though nobody's going to accuse Russell Crowe of not wearing proper safety gear when he rides in New York City, as in this photograph which was forwarded to me by another reader:

Not only is he wearing a protective helment and a protective beard, but he's also sporting serval more layers of clothing than I'd think necessary given that it's been like 60 degrees here.  (60 degrees Fahrenheit is approximately [mumblemumblemumble] degrees Celsius.)

Then again, Crowe probably dresses himself according to the Charity Ride Fred temperature scale, which calls for full Windstopper tights as soon as the temperature dips below 65.

Next time he's in down hopefully he'll opt for a "buddy bike," as forwarded by yet another reader:

Tandem buddy bike - $800 (shingletown)
Date: 2012-10-15, 6:35PM PDT
Reply to: [deleted}

I have a rare tandem buddy bike. This is not a home made bike. Its called a buddy bicycle. I think it was made in the 70s. Rides great. just installed new (chain-cables-break pads-tires-tubs). The left side is the side you steer from. Be the only one in the north state to have one. Asking $800.00 or best cash offer. Thanks Jim 530-474-[deleted]

What happens when one of the riders gets off?

Aftermath: The Dawn of a New Error

After participating in the Bicycling Fall Classic the Sunday before last, I was in desperate need of some de-Fredification.  Therefore, this past weekend I selected a rugged all-terrain bicycle and sought terrain upon which Freds fear to tread, by which I mean "dirt:"

At this point various commenters usually heckle me for my choice of grip, but if being comfy is wrong then I don't want to be right:

I suppose people think grips like this are "dorky," but if I was worried about people thinking I was a giant dork then I wouldn't be riding a bicycle.

Anyway, as a busy person who has to juggle watching up to five different compelling television series a week, I don't always have time to venture far from home in order to de-Fredify myself in the wilderness.  Fortunately though we now have Cunningham Park in Queens, which offers far more entertaining off-road riding possibilites than its suburban location would suggest.  The only real problem (besides all the broken glass) is that, as the day wears on, certain sections of the park do become thick with people in velour tracksuits who think that the granny gear/small cog combo is the optimal gear selection for any terrain. I always try to be polite when riding behind such people, waiting patiently for a safe opportunity to pass.  Unfortunately though what inevitably ends up happening is that they sense that someone is behind them, turn around to see, and then fall down with all the grace of a triathlete.

Of course, the real key to cycling is preparation, and as I injected my pre-ride EPO into my scranus I couldn't help but think of this whole doping shitstorm--which, like any severe weather event, has had both positive and negative effects.  On the plus side, "Saturday Night Live" used it as an opportunity to bring back Jean K. Jean.  ("You ever be at a fête and throw down some gruyère?")  On the negative side, it's emboldened people who nobody gives a shit about to confess their own EPO use.  Sure, those affidavits from the likes of David Zabriskie and George Hincapie were pretty juicy, but now we're hearing from this guy:

Basically, he's a fun-run bottom-feeder (or, if you prefer, a "Foot Fred"):

Hesch, a self-described “profligate road racer,” said that over two years, beginning in August 2010, he injected himself with EPO 54 times before an empty EPO vial was found in his bag and he was reported to antidoping officials. In that time, he won nearly $40,000 in prize money in more than 75 races, including international competitions, United States championships and local road races.

“You get a little money at one race, maybe $1,500 at another,” Hesch said. “And it adds up quickly.”

Who turned to EPO after a bike crash:

This job does not come with workers’ compensation. In May 2010, Hesch was cross-training on his bicycle along Highway 1 in California between San Luis Obispo and Morro Bay when he was hit by a car.

“It was one of those instances I should have been dead,” Hesch said.

He picked himself off the road and received only six stitches to his left elbow, a few deep bruises, minor road rash and a dislocated shoulder. He was able to walk away from the accident but was not able to train adequately for nearly five months.

For the fall racing season, he decided he deserved some extra help to get back on track.

For the most part I was unmoved by this tale of somebody who refuses to get a real job, though I was interested to learn that apparently one side-effect of EPO is that it causes extremely arrogant victory celebrations:

Easing into the finish chute in his Team USA jersey, Hesch stopped a foot away from the finish line, laid down on his stomach on the road, took a whiff of the asphalt centimeters from his nose and performed five push-ups, a pre-victory celebration.

With Lemma sprinting toward him, Hesch smiled and got back on his feet. He broke the finishing tape with his hands above his head.

What a douche.

Sadly, the cycling world will probably refuse to acknowledge one of the most important revelations to come out of Shitstorm 2012, which is that virtually all of this bicycle marketing is complete fiction.  For years sponsors have attributed rider performance to the layup and modulus of their crabon or the "beefiness" of their bottom brackets.  These claims are often humorous enough on their own, but when you think about them as you read a sworn affidavit in which your favorite rider reveals how he changed blood so often it was like the "Signature Service" at Jiffy Lube (and just as slipshod, too) it all sounds totally absurd.  I'd like to think that the scandal will usher in a new age of admitting that all of these bicycles are pretty much the same, though unfortunately the consumers and the press will continue to embrace the concept that the crucial difference between winning and losing is an oversized headtube or a squiggly fork.

Nevertheless, being terminally naive, I continue to hold out hope that one day race bike ads will look like this:

Alas, the truth is that in cycling the only real heroes are the commuters.  The regular people.  The rank-and-file.  The ones who don't take the bus, even when it rains.  Recently, BikePortland featured a photo gallery of these unsung heroes, and to my mind the winner is either Insouciant Fixie Guy:

(Seconds after this photo was taken he ran into the back of a Subaru Forester.)

Or else Rube Goldberg Contraption Guy:

(Why pedal with two limbs when you can pedal with four?)

Between these two riders I have no idea why cycling for transportation isn't more mainstream in America.

Meanwhile, in China, a reader tells me a "philanthropist" is promoting "green commuting" by wearing a green suit:

Holding a crabon bicycle aloft mightily with one hand:

And busting a sweet circa 2007-style elephant trunk skid:

Insouciant Fixie guy would totally do that if he weren't in imminent danger of splitting his pants.

BSNYC Friday Cat Pee!

As a sarcastic bike blogger I like to think that I have a pretty good eye for parody, but the truth is that as time goes on I find myself increasingly unable to identify it.  This could be because our culture has become more finely nuanced in the digital age, but more likely it's just because I'm getting old and ossified.  Either way, the point is that I have no idea if this "Pop-Up Espresso-oh Party!" in Brooklyn (via this blog) is real or not:

If it's a parody it's very funny, and if it's real it's very offensive, but I guess it doesn't really matter since either way it's highly entertaining.  Basically, the author has just moved to Bedford-Stuyvesant, and he's disappointed that there aren't enough similar-minded douchebags following him.  This, he posits, would be remedied if there were more twee coffee houses:

And Bed-Stuy, my current living location, could learn a few things from Starbucks and the Greeks. The infrastructure and layout of Bed-Stuy is no different from other parts of the city. Apartment blocks, storefronts, parks, “walk-up” brownstones with the quintessential New York fire escape, it is all there. So what is missing,  Why is the area still not one which people flock to when looking for apartments?  Why the fuck can I not get a decent coffee? Well, simply put, there is no where to get one. And this is the basis for exploration and investigation. Can neighborhood perception, pride, and responsibility be transformed through quality espresso?

Yes. Espresso. Coffee even. Coffee is the problem and the answer.

If this is indeed parody then he's capturing the voice of the enamored transplant quite well.  ("Ooh, fire escapes!  How urban!")  He also takes that crucial extra step, which is to subtly insult and demean the people who have lived there for generations:

What Bed-Stuy needs is more community members, not merely people who reside there. The most widely recognized catalyst for this transition has historically been…coffee. Coffee creates the trickle down effect every community needs. If a community cares enough to demand a decent cup, that is a community that cares enough to make real changes.

As Malcolm Gladwell famously outlined in his book “Outliers” it is a broken window theory. If you let small details slip, such as allowing graffiti to go unchecked, then the whole community will slowly devolve into more serious crime and disrepair. A similar route is true on the other end. A community focused enough on small details, especially coffee, will bring with it larger issues, eventually lowering crime rates, lowering drop-out rates, and reducing the number of sexually transmitted diseases. In the end, this leaves all participants with a higher value community, one which people would love to call home.

If people really care about their situation, they can take steps to improve it. It is not easy, but effort over time shares. Will every single member of a community contribute to it, no.  But some will. Change Agents as they are sometimes called, whatever label you give them, they increase and maintain the value of the community.

So how can we change Bed-Stuy (and all under-serviced areas?) Action. Bitching about the espresso. Demanding a higher quality of not only coffee, but life.

Profiling an entire community as sexually transmitted disease-addled dropouts?  Sure.  Pricing families out of the neighborhood in order to save them?  Absolutely.  Implying they're not involved in their community because they don't drink expensive coffee?  Naturellement.  But here's the best part:

Proceeds from the event will be used to plant new flower beds around the trees on Patchen Street.

Now that's what I call "giving back."

Anyway, if anyone's brave enough to actually go to this thing I'd love to know if it's for real, though go at your own risk because I'm pretty sure it's an ambush.  I also agree with the writer that "gentrification" has acquired a negative connotation, and that's why from now on we should call it what it is, which is "Portlandification."  Yes, I realize I'm getting old and ossified, but parody or not the attitude embodied in the espresso post has become palpable throughout much of Brooklyn.  It's gotten to the point where living here makes me feel all squirmy and uncomfortable, like I'm wearing someone else's dirty pants.  Then again, I guess it could be worse, and I could be living in San Francisco next-door to Mike Giant, as played by Philip Seymour Hoffman in this cringeworthy interview:

Mike Giant - Philosophy on life from sidewalktalk.dk on Vimeo.

This too flirts confusingly with the line between sincerity and parody.  Giant is highly skilled at copying and selling gang graffiti, but he's less adept when it comes to matters of history.  "Recently the city has changed a lot," says Giant of San Francisco, because "the young people who are moving here are hoping to make a million dollars."  I'm not sure this is a new development.  Wasn't San Francisco the commercial hub of the Gold Rush?  I also enjoyed the part where he explained that he's trying to make less money.  Perhaps Mitt Romney should try that line in order to endear himself to the middle-class voter.  "I'm doing my gosh-darn best not to make more money but whatever I do the stuff just keeps coming at me in gobs!"  Actually, I'm pretty sure this entire interview was scripted by Christopher Guest.

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 that's great, and if you're wrong you'll see "Screaming Song" by The Bicycling Guitarist.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and if you go to the pop-up espresso party I recommend wearing a helment.


--Wildcat Rock Machine

1) The USADA's reasoned decision report will surely usher in a new era of honesty and integrity in professional cycling and ensure a clean future for the next generation of riders.

--True

--That's so cute that you'd think that

(At the height of the fixie craze, a tight "collabo" bike could win you an election.)

2) Forget debates.  Which politician would be most likely to win a trackstanding competition?

--Barack Obama
--Joe Biden
--Paul Ryan
--Mitt Romney

(À la recherche du temps fondue.)

3) Fill in the blank: "Absence makes the heart grow _____."

--Fonder

--Fondo

--Fungus

--Nipples

("My other bike is a car.")

4) David Byrne drives a:

--Honda

--Hyundai

--Citroën

--None of the above, David Byrne doesn't own a car, everybody knows that!

("Please stop mentioning me.")

5) David Byrne wears clogs and drives around shirtless in a Buick station wagon with a big Campagnolo logo on it.

--True

--False

(Premium Cush: "Soft seat, two brakes.  Can't go fast, don't want to.")

6) According to an Australian newspaper, this bike is "a popular choice for couriers."

--True

--False

7) "Entertainment" doesn't get much more smug than:

--A vegan hot dog-eating contest
--A freegan game show called "Whole Foods Dumpster Sweep"
--A human-powered improvisational play about bicycle network planning
--A re-imagining of Peter Shaffer's "Equus" with bikes instead of horses

***Special Pundit-Venturing-Dangerously-Outside-The-Area-Of-His-Expertise-Themed Bonus Question***

(I'm using this picture ironically.)

"So, what if we thought about Lance and competitive cycling as auto racing. It's on three levels: you got a bike, you got a driver, and you got science. When you look at what Lance is alleged to have done, basically he was better than everyone else at using PEDs. He was the guy who sat down and was rigorous and focused and thoughtful and intelligent and cutting edge in how to use them, and apply them and make himself better. Like, I don't know, so is that a bad thing? He's being rewarded for being the best at his game. It was an element in the competition, and he used that element better than anyone else.

"Why don't we just make that a part of the definition of what it means to be a great bicyclist?"

Who said this?

--Bob Costas
--Malcolm Gladwell
--Bill Maher
--Bill Nye the Science Guy