Categories: The HardmenThe Rules

The Rule #5 Talk

Rik van Looy, The Emperor, proving that Steel is Real

Have a look around to see who you find occupying your immediate vicinity. Presently, I am surrounded by a pleasant-seeming bunch. Some are even going so far as to appear happy or at least not displeased; all of them are pale and none of them fit. My attention is drawn, however, to a a portly mustached gentleman who strode into the hotel lobby with an enormous degree of self confidence and who as such feels justified in wearing an ill-fitting t-shirt bearing a phrase which asserts that real men wear orange. While I have no reason to disagree with the assertion, I assume he is optimistic that through wearing said t-shirt, he will be mistaken for a “real man” and is not in fact attempting to disprove the point through contrast.

I’m not picking on this gent not because I’m harboring any sense of ill-will towards him, nor for the fact that he strode into the hotel lobby carrying a twelve pack of Yuengling Black and Tan. I’m picking on him mostly because I have come to understand that “real men” are capable of crushing things like soda cans and their opponents’ Will to Live, while from the looks of it, the only thing he’s crushed lately was a ham sandwich whose remnants I’m fairly certain I spotted on the front of his bright orange t-shirt.

Surprisingly, our Orange Hero isn’t even the most disappointing case in the room I’m occupying. The guy in the camouflage, knee-long shorts and flip-flops is an example at least two degrees worse; if he harbors hopes of blending in to anything – most of all foliage – I suggest he spend some time outside to brew himself up a tan that goes beyond TV Translucent (I’m not sure what the pantone value is for that). He should also try lifting his computer some time, to build muscle mass, rather than wheeling it about in a trolly. But worst of all by a considerable gap is the skinny-fat chap with carefully disheveled hair who is presently chastising the bartender – who is serving free drinks to hotel patrons – for not having his preferred brand of vodka on hand. If this guy took half the time he spent worrying about his hair and invested it in not worrying about his free drink, he’d be three-quarters less of a douche. (My dad would call this guy a zacht gekookt ei, or soft-boiled egg.)

All this to say that as a society we have, by and large, become soft. While I want to be careful not to paint too broadly with that brush as no one is to say what hardships people have been through, on balance we seem to expect to take more and to be asked to give less in return. Our ancestors worked harder than we did, in worse conditions, for less reward but found satisfaction in a job well done and an honest day’s work. Yet today, we are overly dependent on t-shirts to send a message about who we are rather than our actions. We fill our conversations with sentiments of entitlement and rights, when in fact we are entitled to nothing and we have the right only to the things we find within ourselves.

As Cyclists, however easy our lives may be, the bicycle brings us some degree of hardship and struggle. For many of us, our easy lives are what draw us to the bicycle in pursuit of a harder life. This is, of course, in stark contrast that to the riders who came before us, the legion of Fausto Coppi, Rik van Looy, and even the comparatively well-off Eddy Merckx who chose the bicycle as a means of escape from a harder life into an easier one. But nevertheless, it sets us appart. The lessons the bicycle teaches us can be applied to the rest of our lives, and may be used to guide the uninitiated.

Our pets go untrained because we are too busy, distracted, or stressed out to show them the discipline they crave. Our children scream as our dependence on secondary care blurs the boundary between parent and friend. Society’s BMI is pushed ever upward as our appetite for a meal grows inversely with our willingness to exercise. By and large, our dependence on the material is fueled by the immaterial.

No child is too young, no adult too old. This is the time to Obey the Rules, Lead by Example, and Guide the Uninitiated. But most of all, this is the time for us to set an example and have The Talk. The Rule #5 Talk. And remember what Will Fotheringham refers to as Rule #5.b: Eddy Never Complained.

VLVV.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

View Comments

  • @RedRanger

    @DerHoggz

    WTF is going on around here with Vince, versio, Boomstick, and StraightBlock?

    I have no idea. I'll be back when things settle down.

    +1 Even I'm keeping a safe distance.

    Only a picture of the Assos girl applying nipple lube could rescue this thread. [Wistful sigh]

  • @frank
    I was comparing MC5 to Rage... I was stating that it's like comparing the Prophet (who is not me, but thanks!) to COTHO.

    And if you want to make calls as to who the real Prophet in music is/was, I'd say it would be this man...

  • @RedRanger

    Refused are (were) fucking awesome, I discovered them in my own punk/hardcore band days, and they stood out among the sea of cool bands and a lot of pretenders. (Obviously not THE Pretenders, who were awesome in their own right.)

  • I like the live versions of Nick Cave's grinderman and Abbatior Blues songs - I once described it to a friend as like being inside a building that's falling down, and he didn't have any clue why I would want to listen to something I described that way. Moron.

    Not wanting to add to the any ungenerous sentiments that may be circulating, but this thread might be due to be closed? There's racing going on after all (Frere Frhonk, delete this if you disagree)

  • @frank I didn't miss the point at all - I just did to you what you keep doing to me, by taking some of what you said and twisting it to my own ends.

    @frank

    @Oli
    Try to remember that what's important is the conversation and what we can learn from each other. It isn't important who said what, or who is right, or what got twisted. That stuff is just a bunch of people pissing into the wind.

    I would suggest that when it's important to you it's important, but when it's important to me it's apparently not. Your condescension is highly ironic to me. If you want me to shut up stop insulting me by suggesting I don't understand you, when it's clear you don't understand me.

  • Anyway, I'll catch you all later. It's clear I have worn out my welcome here, so I'll depart. Thanks for the good times, of which there were many, and hopefully I'll see some of you out on the road. Cheers, Oli

  • @Oli

    Anyway, I'll catch you all later. It's clear I have worn out my welcome here, so I'll depart. Thanks for the good times, of which there were many, and hopefully I'll see some of you out on the road. Cheers, Oli

    A shame really.

  • @Oli

    Anyway, I'll catch you all later. It's clear I have worn out my welcome here, so I'll depart. Thanks for the good times, of which there were many, and hopefully I'll see some of you out on the road. Cheers, Oli

    Oh don't do that Oli, I imagine you capable of many things but not flouncing ;-)

    Maybe some King Lear retribution... Goneril and Regan, we know who you are.

    Close pent-up guilts,
    Rive your concealing continents, and cry
    These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
    More sinn'd against than sinning.

  • @frank - brilliant post. My comment would be that yes, the discipline cycling breeds can be a moniker stamped on life elsewhere but, on a deeper level, it is the obstacle, the suffering and (sometimes downright) savagery presented by cycling that calls out to the too many of us in the West who lead comfortable but otherwise innocuous lives.

    I'm glad you've articulated the point - it seems to me (as a mere peripheral observer/fan of the community) that it embodies the very essence of vvlv and, of course, Rule #5.

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