Intangibles: Steel is Real, but How does it Smell?

Every profession has its busy season. For accountants, it's the weeks preceding April 15th; for florists, it's the days preceding Mother's Day; for astronomers, it's when Halley's Comet rolls into town; and for dorky bike bloggers, it's "Bike Month."

Yes, May is National Bike Month, that puzzling time of year during which we're supposed to celebrate cycling even though motorists are trying to kill us just as assiduously as they do during the rest of the year. (I guess to them "Bike Month" means "run down cyclists" in the same way that "rabbit season" means "shoot at rabbits.") Also, the "mainstream media" likes to feign interest in cycling during Bike Month, which is why I'll be appearing on the NPR radio show "On Point" (or "On Pernt" in old-timey Brooklynese) this very morning at 11:00am (ET):

I honestly have no idea what we're talking about, but judging from my fellow guests and the fact that it's Bike Month I assume it will have something to do with cycling. Furthermore, the photos would indicate that we're going to focus on "fixies" and bicycles adorned with MetroCards. I must admit that I'm a bit nervous about appearing on this show--not because I'll be speaking live to literally dozens of people, but because one member of the "Twitteroni" says that the show's host, Tom Ashbrook, is a "total tool:"

Then again, I'm also a tool (inasmuch as a "douche bag" can be considered a kind of tool) so it could be an excellent fit. Hopefully I do not expunge my bag of douche completely in the course of this appearance and have at least some bloviation left in me for this evening's "Bike Culture Summit."

Speaking of NPR, you may recall that yesterday I mentioned the quote "These fools be swerving, and they be doing their little texting thing," and then expressed a wish to hear it in song form. Well, it just so happens that one esteemed reader of this blog makes music under the name "The Abrahammer:"


And I was ecstatic when he sent me his latest work, entitled "These Fools Be Swervin' (The Abrahammer Remix.)" I'm not exaggerating when I say that having played just a small role in this production is one of the high points of my blogging career. For best results, consume some "purple drank" and listen to it while staring at the mesmerizing visage of the Nonplussed Journalist:


Now that is what I call "bike culture."

Speaking of so-called "bike culture," an essential part of it is slavering over handmade bicycles and getting really excited about things like lugs and welds. However, a new film called "Of Steel," featuring renowned builder Dario Pegoretti, is about to drop, and the preview indicates that looking at bikes is out and smelling them is in:

Pegoretti's obsession with steel's distinctive scent indicates we may be entering into the era of the "olfactory custom:"

Now, I have nothing but admiration for Dario Pegoretti, and I certainly appreciate that he's passionate about his work. My real problem with this whole smelling thing is the "trickle down effect" (in as much as a smell can "trickle"). It's bad enough going to bike shows and watching clueless people in cycling caps, shants, and messenger bags staring at welds or lugs from a centimeter's distance and pretending they know what they're looking at--now they're going to start smelling the frames too. Really, the last thing we need is a whole convention center full of people sniffing butts. I guess we can now also add "smell" to the increasingly esoteric list of ways to quantify your bicycle, which also includes milk, babies, and sunglasses. It also adds a whole new sensory dimension to the age-old practice of ascribing mystical properties to steel bicycles--which we all know "draw a circle" when you ride them.

Speaking of mystical properties, on Tuesday I mentioned the "Burrito Project," and at least some viewers of that video detected a religious undercurrent. Well, a reader has forwarded me another video by the same filmmaker in which the "spiritual" content is far more overt:

1 CORINTHIANS 9:22-23 from Jon Chou on Vimeo.

I suppose it was inevitable that one day we'd witness the advent of the fixed-gear missionary. "Kind of crazy how it happened," says the subject of the video about his trip to Mexico. "I kind of just ended up there, and I was there, and I didn't really know what I was doing, but it was...God's plan...and He provided for me, He gave me the money, and it's crazy how if we just trust in God he'll provide and he'll give us what we need." (Incidentally, many non-religious "hipsters" often say the same thing about moving to Williamsburg, only they say "Dad" instead of "God.") This profound faith, of course, is why "fixionaries" don't need brakes:

Just have faith in Him and he'll give you the stopping power that you need.

Here is the "fixionary" doing a no-handed trackstand in silent contemplation, being held upright by the invisible hand of the Lord:

And here he is wearing tight pants, thinking about God:

This film brings new meaning to the phrase "fixed-gear conversion."