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.
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@sthilzy, @Marcus
Mine was brown and black on a Reynolds 531 tube set with a brooks as well. Beating myself now for losing it. I think the wheels were steel, possibly? Not 700c, so I couldn't get 23mm tires on it; aways felt off having to ride wider tires than my friends' bikes.
Eventually put 700c wheels in it with the brake pads dropped all the way down to the end of the brake arm levers. Good times.
@minion
Awesome point about music. I use the hell out of my iPhone (which is basically an iPod that I can also make phone calls on) and I love it. But the album is dead, and that is very sad. Seems to me the last true album that I can think of was The Smashing Pumpkins' Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. Each song is so much better when heard as part of the album vs when they are heard on their own.
I can't think of the last time I listened to an album, and the genius feature does make you listen to music in a totally different way which is also very exciting.
Don't just knock the iPod and similar items - sure it discourages albums listening, but most music coming out isn't album based anyway.
Bottom line: if you want the true music experience go to a concert. Rock and Roll is better when you can see the whites of performers eyes, as anyone who has watched Road to Roubaix will know. But a record is great too, and that's what I do any time I want to really appreciate something. If you're listening to digital music of any kind, you've already started to lose the fight.
@scaler911
Yeah, the one I talked to was very tan - likely on her way to "leathery."
@wiscot
Slight correction; the Team Sky cycling caps have too large a brim, and he's been wearing it like a wanker. So though you're mostly right, he has not been spotted this year wearing a proper cycling cap, and it wasn't worn like that!
@Oli
That photo is absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.
@frank
I had the Brooks but only regular Raleigh tubing and wheels you had to spanner off. It also had odd stubby mudguards to keep the crap of the the brakes. Writing this brings back memories of winter evenings polishing and oiling the thing - wonder what it's final mileage was?
@frank
Some random artists that still occasionally put out "albums" with a story/theme/consistent feel.
Mike Keneally - (Wooden Smoke, also the crazy weird Scambot)
35007 (obscure Dutch band)
Clutch
Critters Buggin
Porcupine Tree
Skanska Mord
The Atomic Bitchwax
and, of course, all the crazy jazz/funk goodness of the musicians that tear it up until 8am every night at NOLA jazzfest in the bars.
@frank
I've been keeping a low profile for a number of reasons. Trying to get the house ready to sell, getting my as kicked as a Cat 4, trying to get the new Eagle Rock Cycling regime squared away, to name a few. I'll be getting back into the swing of things shortly (I hope).
@wiscot
Let us count the ways - 1. Cav wears his cap like its a yarmulke with a brim 2. the medical tape on his ear for his radio makes him look like a Chik-fil-a employee with an illegal earring 3. I can't tell from his jersey what governing body gives out the WC stripes 4. Rik is laying down some serious V and Cav is contemplating what his next tweet about @petatodd should say.
@Cyclops
Hang in there, stay near the front.
@itburns
\ How many points to Tim Weisberg for the Night Rider album (cover image) ?