Wednesday, 10 November 2010

Full Circle: Welcome to the Velodrome

I don't like to use this blog as a forum for my personal problems. (Most of that material goes on my other blog, "All About My Bunions.") In particular, I believe very strongly in not selfishly asking my readers to help me obtain "stuff" I want or need but can't find. For example, as much as I covet a pair of DayGlo Aerospii ("Aerospii" is plural for Aerospoke) for my Scattante, I would never use this blog to put out some sort of APB (or "Aerospoke-Palpage Bulletin") asking people to "hook me up" with a free pair. (Though I certainly wouldn't turn a pair of tarck-tastic Aerospii away were they to somehow wind up on my doorstep, hint hint, cough cough, expectorate expectorate, et cetera.)


This time, however, I am making an exception, since frankly it's a matter of life and death. With money managers in Mercedeseses running down cyclii (plural of "cyclist") the way they are I feel especially vulnerable out there, and I don't feel confident that the law will protect me. For this reason I think my only defense is a genuine Morgan Stanley cycling jersey, as forwarded to me by a reader:

My thinking here is that, should some money manager like Martin Erzinger come bearing down on me, he may notice the jersey, take me for a colleague, and swerve at the last second, thus sparing my life. Sadly though, there are no Morgan Stanley jerseys available on eBay now, which is why I'm asking that if you have a spare one to please pass it on. (If you only have one, I suggest you keep it to yourself, since your life may depend on it.) Rest assured, I'm willing to pay top dollar. (And by "top dollar," I mean I'll produce my billfold, withdraw the three $1 bills currently in there, and give you whichever one is on top at that moment--and one of them's not even Canadian, so you may get lucky.) In the meantime, as a precautionary measure, I'm rebranding all my bicycles as Serottas:


It's only a matter of time before murderous money managers become wise to our jersey ploy and figure out they need to check out our bikes too, and I want to be able to pass muster when they move in for a closer (though hopefully not posthumous) inspection.

But while there may be a jersey that can save you from money managers, I'm not sure if there's a jersey that will protect you from "hipsters" who call you a "pussy" after you ask them not to sit on your wheel, which is what happened to me last Friday. I mean, you could try one of these:

Though in our sordid, Godless society with its ready access to Internet pornography and middle school nurses' offices dispensing abortions for lunch money and crackpot theories about how we're descended from monkeys there's always the possibility that some degenerate with a dirty mind might take it the wrong way. (Or, click here for the "short" version.)

In any case, it so happens that the very person who called me a "pussy" has subsequently posted a comment on Monday's post by way of explanation:

Harry said...

I'm the dickhead on the 'fixie'! Hi Snob!

Just to clarify - my bike had a freewheel - actually, a one speed cog on a Shimano 'freehub' design so I was 'free-fixie'ing it Total poseur move, I know - fortunantly, it worked, as you confused my smooth pedal style and Real Simple chainline for a fixie (thank God). It was also a sweet 'vintage' ride.

My attire was also of the 'fake-enger' variety being carefully 'curated' from 'vintage' thrift shops.

For what its worth - I was drunk and your 'slow' is pretty fast. I latched onto your wheel and was quite surprised by your subsequent reaction.

I am not a 'noobie' but have been riding for quite a while - ever since I learned that bikes helped me get away from my parents for more than an hour - before brifters.

I kinda thought that you, Snob, were a 'hipster' yourself - what with your 'cross' bike and no foot retention (I think). I think I'm also older than you think - more in line with your age than that of your usual asshole-on-a-bike.

Anyway - Sorry to have caused you consternation. I pledge to not use epithets next time - maybe you can pull me to Nyack some time?

-Harry

So evidently he was "surprised" that I didn't want an unannounced wheelsucker tailgating me in the dark--even though he was "drunk," which only serves to underscore how appropriate my reaction was. I think the only thing I'd want following me less than a drunken hipster on a dark street is a SAG wagon driven by Martin Erzinger. (As far the ride to Nyack, I'd love to take him up on that. I'm available on this date or on this date, he can take his pick.)

Almost as scary is that he thought I was "hipster" because I was on a "cross" bike, which means that the scenario envisioned by that video from last year may finally be coming to pass. Alas, there was a time not too long ago when cyclocross was like hipster kryptonite (and I don't mean this kind of hipster kryptonite). In fact, some years ago, in the early days of the "fixie" craze and before I even began this blog, I was riding a cyclocross bike in downtown Manhattan when a klatch of budding hipsters with their new track bikes actually shouted at me to "Get a fixed-gear."

I'd been seeing signs that track bikes were becoming a "thing" before this, but it wasn't until I was actually heckled on the street for not riding one that I suspected cycledom was about to enter into a new age of unprecedented douchery--which indeed it did.

Since then, though, not only did the fixed-gear scene close, but the "hipsters" who were already "grandfathered in" began to embrace the forms of cycling they once reviled. This includes cyclocross. I don't mean they actually started doing cyclocross; rather, they started professing a love for the bicycles and the aesthetic in the same way they had once professed a love for high-end track bikes and velodrome racing while doing little more than practicing trackstands in their living rooms. If you visit any popular fixed-gear-oriented blog you will see that drooling over cyclocross bikes with artfully-applied bits of mud has become Slavering Over NJS Track Bikes 2.0.

By the way, I should stress that there's nothing wrong with any of this--until some stranger tells you to "get a cyclocross bike," or else just calls you a "pussy."

Meanwhile, further to my comments about the "Wednesday Weed" and bike racing in yesterday's post, some marijuana enthusiasts took issue with what they took to be my implication that so-called "stoners" cannot be productive members of society. Rest assured, this is not what I meant at all. I merely meant that, if your goal is to be the best bike racer you can possibly be, smoking marijuana on a daily basis will serve as a hindrance to that goal.

Again, this is not to say that bike racing is somehow less frivolous, debilitating, or delusional than marijuana use; indeed, there are few things more dangerous to your social and romantic life, state of employment, financial well-being, and general sense of perspective than bike racing--which, if you take it too seriously, will lay waste to your life faster than the most addictive narcotic. Marijuana, on the other hand, generally does little more than make you chronically 20 minutes late and compel you to put peanut butter on everything.

Still, the fact remains, if your goal is to be an awesome biker racer, marijuana is probably going to hold you back. Actually, if your goal is to be an awesome crack addict, marijuana is probably going to hold you back with that too. If, on the other hand, your goal is to be happy and have fun, then you simply find the balance that works for you. Nevertheless, some things just don't go together well, as anybody who's ever put peanut butter on hot wings will probably attest. Plus, if "stoners" start taking bike racing too seriously, then the next thing you know people are going to start racing singlespeed cyclocross with power meters:


Though a reader has recently informed me this is already happening:

2011 is going to be all about SRM-equipped bongs.

Speaking of velodromes (which I was at some point), the Brooklyn Paper is reporting on the efforts to have one built in Greenpoint, Brooklyn:


I should start off by saying that naturally I'd be extremely pleased if someone were to build velodrome in Brooklyn. At the same time, though, I'm afraid such a project would be doomed to fail. The track bike-riding residents of Williamsburg and Greenpoint are already not using the velodrome less than 10 miles away, so I don't see any reason they'd be inclined to use this one. Sure, it's closer, but it's not like "hipsters" can't cover vast distances on their bikes if they want to--in fact, they make videos of themselves doing it all the time. They just need proper motivation in the form of free sponsor "swag" and overly dramatic cinematography. Actually, I think they'd have much more success building a fixed-gear movie studio than a velodrome. Customers would simply ride on rollers in front of blue screens displaying the "epic" scenery of their choice, and they'd have ready access to clothing and accessories from companies like Rapha, Outlier, and Chrome.

It would be more popular than karaoke, ironic kickball, and ironic bowling combined.

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