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.
I know as well as any of you that I've been checked out lately, kind…
Peter Sagan has undergone quite the transformation over the years; starting as a brash and…
The Women's road race has to be my favorite one-day road race after Paris-Roubaix and…
Holy fuckballs. I've never been this late ever on a VSP. I mean, I've missed…
This week we are currently in is the most boring week of the year. After…
I have memories of my life before Cycling, but as the years wear slowly on…
View Comments
@brett
Listening to your conversations, I heard things I wasn't old enough to hear, so point taken.
And I don't try to swear in front of kids. The opposite. I also try to be quieter. And less obnoxious. But a man need to know his limitations.
@mcsqueak
Dingsdingadingading! Nicely done. And @Steampunkwas close, I attended a meeting today in Reading. Lovely people. More Rule V than in the city.
But yes, I was in Philly. And drove up the famous Manayunk Wall. The (formerly known as) Coorestates Championiships has to be the oldest Pro bike race in the US, no? First time I was in awe driving up a street in the same way I've been in awe in Europe.
Except that now that I live in Seattle, it's just not that steep. Sorry fellas. The sustained 17% ramp is perhaps long, but e grade is not that brutal. After several laps, well, I'll let you know when I come next time and bring my bike.
Speaking of Rule V; from Jen's Twitter post today: "Funny thing happened to me in today stage! A bee was sitting on my lip and i thought leave the bee in peace, she won't sting you...", "Wrong guess, she did, and then i decided to live up to my image and swallowed her and did chew every bit of honey out of that bee!!!", "Take that little bug as punishment for messing with me!!".
@frank
And I'm from Wisconsin.
@LA Dave
The thing that kills me the most is that these people are skinny but unfit. They obviously watch what they eat (and the vodka they drink, apparently - probably organic free range gluten-free vodka - but cant be bothered to exercise. They've got it easy, they have the genetics to be fit and as thin as is healthy, but they just don't exercise. They are skinny-fat. Too bad.
@Oli
Likewise.
@Sauterelle
So what are you saying, you're looking for the blokes wearing the cheese hats?
@scaler911
Oh, how I wish how I wish how I wish he would have carried on to say he swallowed it to climb faster, and clarify the technicality between a bee and a wasp.
That guy is legend. I hope he keeps racing until he's sixty.
@mcsqueak
Yes, I'll give it to you right before we start the Cogal.
I have camo shorts that are great for wrenching, cos they a) have lotsa pockets and b) they don't show how much grease and crap gets all over them.
Of course, I suffer from numerous first world problems. My coffee is frequently what I consider 'not good'. I fret about how much money I pay to live in a nice house. I spend 'too much' money on bikes and cycling. And I struggle to keep a sense of perspective on life and the things that piss me off.
I do try not to whine though.
@frank
If you're in Philly and don't stop in at Monk's Café (16th & Spruce), you're dead to me. Incredible selection of Belgian beers. We used to live just around the corner, behind the Kimmel Center. Fond memories...
@brett
Ha, I completely agree. I actually had a parent get rather annoyed with me for cussing at a sporting event. Yeah, not a pub so a bit different. I was a bit younger though, and a bit brash. I told the mom, "They're gonna hear it sometime, why not today?" I don't think she liked that response. I do think I wouldn't respond in such a way these days.