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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@Buck Rogers
Actually, that was from a surprisingly decent Wikipedia page.
@Ron
Check out the latest edition of Peloton. Highlights -- started riding as a paperboy; career took off when a sensei road captain joined his team and taught him to be more patient; finally won la Fleche, the only classic he hadn't won, in the twilight of his career; stayed in shape over the winter riding 6-days.
@itburns
No one will win all the major one-day classics Rik II won beacuse Paris-Brussels is defunct. I suppose one could make an argument for replacing Paris-Brussels on the list of 8 with Amstel Gold.
@frank
Holy shit, The Frogs. I saw them in Chicago in the mid-90's. Mad barmy.
Corgan was criticized for over- producing his albums ( the example you mention being a case in point), but the rawness of the shows was just excellent. I saw them in small venues in Chicago, but for Mellon Collie, it was in a big arena in Paris. Never saw them or bought another album after that.
Bottom line, and this is the highest compliment we could pay: he wrote good songs.
@frank
If I see you riding with headphones in I'm putting you in the fucking ditch. For realsies.
Good point about the Pumpkins, I think the first 4 tracks from Siamese Dream are the best collection of songs on an album, anywhere. Those songs complement each other so well it's awesome, and by now so ingrained into memory that there's a lot of association there.
I've also had that knockdown agrument with a mate about Jimmy Chaimberlain. It's gotta be between him and Ahmir Trotter from the Roots. I've seen them live and I had no idea how good musicians could be till I'd seen them play. That man is amazing.
@DerHoggz
Mars Volta are great, funnily enough I've got all the At The Drive in Albums, which was the band those guys were in before they split, and also a Sparta album that is the other half of ATDI, all of which are pretty good post punk albums. Funnily they were crackheads while in those bands, they split up and got clean, then started making way out there music with the Mars Volta.
@niksch
Yeah, I think taking a cheap jibe at an entire army is far more disrespectful to those who have fought and died for their country than wearing a bit of camo ever could be.
(I'm deliberately putting this in this already sullied thread to avoid restarting the flaming in a new thread.)
Damn, I thought this would link back to @niksch's comment in the Rule VI thread...
@Oli
Well, it was a joke and Soldiers like jokes, and we fuck with each other all the time and take it in good stride. After the Canadians, I love the French dudes. Their "du Genie" or combat engineers are some crazy MFs (I'm a combat engineer, BTW). They raced bikes in Kosovo when we Americans were all concerned about Serbs taking pot-shots at us. Plus, we US troopers can't drink on deployment, and I'd always find a way to have to visit my French counterparts because they drank at lunch. Good shit.
@wiscot
My theory is that it is because Cav is too recent for us to use our "historical romanticism" filter.
I'm sure that one day, we'll be telling all and sundry how lucky we were to live through the career of one of the greatest sprinters ever. Van Looy's palmares was also exemplary, but from what I've read, he wasn't above being a total asshole. If you search hard enough, there are anecdotes of him bullying his own domestiques, stomping on any who showed any promise, withholding agreed prizemoney to "keep them hungry and (ironically) loyal", conspiring with other team leaders to prevent potential threats from rising through the ranks, etc.
Based on this, and stories about Cav's early temperament considered, I think I'd still rather have a beer with the new guy who wears his hat funny.
+1
@the Engine
Arr yes, those stubley mudguards that where originally on it! Wonder what the final mileage was? Early days had me one of the Huret style odometers with the star wheel on the side that bolted on the front hub/axle, that clicks over 'wheel circumference' when the spoke jigger spins past it. Yeah, good times!