(Via a reader, the Lobster God takes automotive form to punish nonbelievers and poor drivers.)
This morning started out like any other. After bathing in Fruity Pebbles and enjoying an invigorating bowl of lukewarm bath water, I set about tending to the myriad responsibilities of a non-minimalist. I wrote checks and sent them to my creditors via carrier pigeon, I washed and buffed my stable of 46 nearly identical handmade bicycles, I made sure my various registrations, licenses, permits, and insurance policies were up to date, I double-checked the expiration dates of ever single food item in my fridge, and I generally tested and tightened every one of the steel cables that hold me in thrall to "the system." Then I realized I had just wasted the entire morning, since an asteroid is heading right towards us and we're all going to die:
"Well that sucks," I thought to myself as I threw out eighteen boxes of Jimmy Dean Pancakes and Sausage on a Stick that had tragically fallen victim to premature freezer burn. The world is going to end in 2036, and just last week I'd put my entire fortune into an investment account that would not mature until 2040. How, then, was I supposed to fund completion of my "bucket list" before we all perish in this cosmic holocaust? It's quite a formidable list, too, and without access to that $76 million I just put away I don't see how I'm going to manage it:
"Well that sucks," I thought to myself as I threw out eighteen boxes of Jimmy Dean Pancakes and Sausage on a Stick that had tragically fallen victim to premature freezer burn. The world is going to end in 2036, and just last week I'd put my entire fortune into an investment account that would not mature until 2040. How, then, was I supposed to fund completion of my "bucket list" before we all perish in this cosmic holocaust? It's quite a formidable list, too, and without access to that $76 million I just put away I don't see how I'm going to manage it:
Sure, I know some of these are a bit far-fetched, but I'm willing to compromise on some of them--for example, on numbers three and four I'd be perfectly willing to switch the Pope with the Dalai Lama and vice versa. However, without that money I doubt I'll be able to get anywhere near either of them. I'm not the only one who's getting short-changed by this whole end-of-the-world thing, either. For example, if you're currently on the wait list for a Vanilla, you won't take delivery of your bike until five years after asteroid hits, and even if you manage survive there probably won't be anyplace decent to ride it or anybody else to drool all over your exquisite lugwork. Then again, maybe it's for the best we'll only be around for another 25 years, since if bottom brackets keep expanding at their current rate then by 2030 they'll be roughly three times the size of the rest of the bicycle and we'll all be riding around like this.
In any case, given that we're all doomed, it seems almost comical to be worried about trivial matters such as "personal safety." This is why I expect that bicycle helmet sales will drop precipitously now that an asteroid is hurtling towards us. I mean, why bother, right? However, I'd still hate to get a ticket during these remaining days, and as I mentioned in yesterday's post, while it's legal to ride in New York without a helmet it is illegal to ride without a helment, and as soon as I learned this I resolved to purchase one. The only problem was that I had no idea what a helment was--though commenter "streepo" pointed out that you can get a headset for one:
Still, there were two problems:
Still, there were two problems:
1) I couldn't use a headset with something I didn't have;
2) Even if I had a helment to use it with, I couldn't, because it's illegal to ride a bicycle in New York City while wearing a pair of headphones.
Either way, I still needed a helment, and so I consulted a popular search engine and finally found what I was looking for:
Now that's some serious on-the-bike protection:
Not only that, but "The clear faceshield allows for...the inspection of newly-completed welds," which means that you can revel in the exquisite beauty of your Moots or similar bicycle as you ride. However, I ride a lowly Scattante, and as such I avoid looking at my welds at all costs since their lumpy irregularity only depresses me. Therefore, I wondered if there was a helment out there with a non-faceshield option, and after a little more searching I found this:
Obviously it was perfect, but sadly it was out of stock, and and the only other helment I could find was this one:
It was at this point that I elected to abandon the search and risk the ticket, and if any police officers stop me and ask me for my helment I really, really hope I'm able to talk my way out of it.
Speaking of helmets (the helment's mud-free cousin), you may possibly but probably don't recall that many, many years ago (almost one and a half of them) I mentioned a documentary about an Australian woman named Sue Abbott who stood in solitary poodle-haired opposition to her nation's draconian and marsupial mandatory helmet laws:
Well, I was visiting Bikeportland yesterday and was pleased to find a link to the following article:
Yes, Sue Abbott has finally emerged triumphant over this kangaroo court (in Australia, hearings are presided over by actual kangaroos) and her coiffure shall remain forever unmolested. One wonders if this will go down as a landmark decision and serve as the beginning of the end of Australia's helmet law, or if they will continue to cling to mandatory helmet use like a koala clings to a eucalyptus branch (until its skull is pierced by the arrow of Ted Nugent). Of course it really doesn't matter since we're all going to be dead in 2036 anyway, but while we're still here we might as well go through the motions and pretend. So let's raise a glass to Sue Abbott and toast her in traditional Australian fashion: "Here's mud on your helment."
Now that's some serious on-the-bike protection:
Not only that, but "The clear faceshield allows for...the inspection of newly-completed welds," which means that you can revel in the exquisite beauty of your Moots or similar bicycle as you ride. However, I ride a lowly Scattante, and as such I avoid looking at my welds at all costs since their lumpy irregularity only depresses me. Therefore, I wondered if there was a helment out there with a non-faceshield option, and after a little more searching I found this:
Obviously it was perfect, but sadly it was out of stock, and and the only other helment I could find was this one:
It was at this point that I elected to abandon the search and risk the ticket, and if any police officers stop me and ask me for my helment I really, really hope I'm able to talk my way out of it.
Speaking of helmets (the helment's mud-free cousin), you may possibly but probably don't recall that many, many years ago (almost one and a half of them) I mentioned a documentary about an Australian woman named Sue Abbott who stood in solitary poodle-haired opposition to her nation's draconian and marsupial mandatory helmet laws:
Well, I was visiting Bikeportland yesterday and was pleased to find a link to the following article:
Yes, Sue Abbott has finally emerged triumphant over this kangaroo court (in Australia, hearings are presided over by actual kangaroos) and her coiffure shall remain forever unmolested. One wonders if this will go down as a landmark decision and serve as the beginning of the end of Australia's helmet law, or if they will continue to cling to mandatory helmet use like a koala clings to a eucalyptus branch (until its skull is pierced by the arrow of Ted Nugent). Of course it really doesn't matter since we're all going to be dead in 2036 anyway, but while we're still here we might as well go through the motions and pretend. So let's raise a glass to Sue Abbott and toast her in traditional Australian fashion: "Here's mud on your helment."
Meanwhile, in most other parts of the world helmet use while cycling remains more or less a personal choice, though you should certainly check with your local municipal government regarding their policy on riding a recumbent while naked, as in this photo which was forwared to me by a reader:
Yes, it's just that sort of "hop on and go" sensibility that makes cycling an attractive alternative in an urban environment, as this video forwarded to me by a reader shows:
I couldn't understand a word of what the guy in the purple shirt was saying due to his Vegemite-thick Australian accent, but I believe what he was implying was that cars suck because they result in make-up accidents:
Whereas bikes are awesome because you can just toss a "Sheila" on your top tube and go:
Though how this is more conducive to the application of lipstick is beyond me. In any case, while the video is ostensibly amusing, it only managed to depress me since almost everything purple shirt guy does in this video would result in his being stopped and ticketed by the NYPD and would also be regarded as dangerous and insane pretty much everywhere in America. Sadly, this sort of idyllic cycling will probably never be possible here in Canada's surgically-enhanced cleavage (or in Canada for that matter), since our approach to everyday cycling is closer to this:
--Spend $2,000-$6,000 on an "appropriate" bicycle;
--Spend another thousand dollars on an appropriate wardrobe and accessories;
--Strap on your helmet, throw yourself to the cars, and hold on for dear life;
--Abandon the whole endeavor when your bike gets stolen or you get hit by a car, whichever comes first.
It's certainly a sad situation, but oddly consumers and local governments seem to be in near total agreement on it--at least that's the case here in New York. There is an upside though, which is that if you do all this on a fixed-gear and manage to survive for more than a year, that qualifies you for "OG" status and you get to upload videos of yourself and your friends and sell t-shirts. I'd like to see some grandmother in Copenhagen try that.
Ironically, even bizarre cycling disciplines like cyclocross seem to be gaining more traction in America than the simple act of hopping on a bike, throwing your best gal on your top tube, and pedaling to the store. (Unless you're the King of Park Slope, that is. He can do whatever he wants.) Don't get me wrong, I love few things more than sucking at the cyclocross, but it can also be frustrating that most people only seem comfortable with bicycles if they're used for racing and exercising. We're already experiencing a bike commuting backlash, yet cyclocross has grown so much that Jonathan Page's sponsor is considering opening a cyclocross camp:
Bob owns land outside Madison and is thinking of buying a little more to make a cyclo-cross training centre in order to run those camps out of the Madison area," he added. "I would be running the program, doing technique work and talking about training. We will bring in some trainers, sport scientists and mechanics to help run the cyclo-cross camp."
I hope he will also bring in some Portlanders to teach heckling, costume curation, and flesh hook administration. Bike portaging is totally going to be the new arts and crafts.
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