Cropped Out: Delusions of Fredness

As I mentioned yesterday, on Saturday I attended the New Amsterdam Bike Show. In addition to contending with treacherous stairways and ogling stylized Dutch-style bikes in a variety of colorways, I also got my daintily manicured hands on a copy of the June issue of "Bicycling." "Bicycling" is a magazine about bicycle cycling, and a magazine is sort of like a blog or a website, only it's printed on paper and you have to pay for it.

Ordinarily, I have to go to the dentist to read "Bicycling," and even then the issue is usually eight months out of date. (You can date an issue of "Bicycling" by finding the most expensive bicycle in it, measuring the "beefiness" of the bottom bracket in millimeters, and then dividing that figure by the number of rear cogs. In fact, sometimes this is the only way to tell the issues apart.) However, this time someone from "Bicycling" actually gave--gave--it to me, and not only was it "hot off the presses" (that's magazine publishing lingo for "new"), but I didn't even have to have my teeth drilled to get it.

This is because the June issue of "Bicycling" is the debut of the magazine's official redesign, and they want the bicycle cycling world to know it. Here's what the cover looks like:

Nice font, right? And not only have "Bicycling" redesigned the magazine, but they've also made it interactive. As you may have noticed, it says "flip open" in the upper right corner ("flipping" is the paper equivalent of "clicking"), and when you follow the instructions you see this:

That's right, it's two more Freds, making a total of four (4) Freds! That's a Total Fred Increase (TFI) of 100%.

Clearly "Bicycling" means business with this redesign.

But redesigning a magazine isn't just about increasing the cover's Fred Load-Bearing Capacity (FLBC). It also extends to the words and pictures on what publishing professionals call the "inside" of the magazine, and "Bicycling" have "dropped" an "edit" to show you what they've done. Basically, what I think they're trying to say is that the magazine is now less "Vanity Fair" for Freds, and more "Rouleur" for Freds.

In all seriousness, I do think "Bicycling" have done an excellent job with the redesign, and with each successive bathroom visit I'm enjoying the June issue more and more. However, this wasn't the reason I was excited to see it. No, I've been eagerly anticipating this issue because it's the one in which they announce the "Editors' Choice" winners, and since I was one of the testers I really wanted to see some Fred-tastic pictures of myself in crabon-testing action. (In case you care, which I'm sure you don't, my favorite bike in any category was the "Giant Defy Advanced 1," despite the fact that it's name is a full sentence long, and probably because it had 25mm tires whereas most of the other bikes had 23s.)

Now, as you know, as an anonymous blogger whose identity is a closely-guarded secret, I take great pains to obfuscate any and all of my personal details. However, even I have my vanities, and when "Bicycling" told me that on one of the test rides we'd be photographed I resolved immediately to be "ready for my close-up," as Norma Desmond said in "Sunset Boulevard." This was because, as an awful bike racer, I knew that appearing in the world's largest cycling magazine by circulation could very well be my last-ever chance to experience anything even remotely resembling competitive glory.

Or, to put it another way, I wanted some "face time" in Fred-dom's periodical of record.

But there was one problem: "Bicycling" told me that on photo day I had to wear non-team kit. However, I didn't have any non-team kit, since all my cycling clothing is from my stint with Mapei when I played a vital role in their 1996 Paris-Roubaix podium sweep:

I actually crashed out of the race before it even started when I collided with a frites cart on the way to the sign-in, but I still like to think that they couldn't have done it without me.

Anyway, the problem remained that I had no non-team cycling clothes. Generously, "Bicycling" offered to lend me an outfit from their closet, but I cringed at the thought of what Primal monstrosities might lurk in there, and there was no way I was going to be immortalized in dentist offices all over Canada's dickey in a "Tribal Fire" jersey.

Therefore, it became clear what I had to do. Say what you will about their overblown marketing copy, and their studiously "epic" videos, and their even more "epic" pricetags, but if you want to look good on a road bike you're not going to fail with the Rapha. Actually, that's not true. You can fail pretty spectacularly with the Rapha:

(His wardrobe is so "epic" it's making him queasy.)

Nevertheless, I was desperate, so just before departing for Austin I allowed my inner fop his head and obtained a complete Rapha ensemble: socks, shorts, jerseys, armwarmers, the whole schmear. And when photo day arrived, I removed each item from its special Rapha puch and put it on with the nervous excitement of a prom-bound teenager donning his first rental tuxedo. Then, I practiced my "epic" expressions in the bathroom mirror. (Hint: After much experimentation, I finally figured out the best way to attain a Rapha-esque wince is to let your mouth hang slightly open, think about your favorite food, and then concentrate on letting the saliva pool in the bottom half of your mouth without spilling it.) I have to say, the clothing was really nice. Like, surprisingly nice. Finally, it was time to mount my Focus Locus Hocus Pocus or whatever crabon bike I was "testing" that day and roll out with the "Bicycling" crew.

I should add that we were photographed constantly by this guy:

Whether it was eating our morning Cocoa Puffs, inflating our tires, stabbing at our "smarting phones," or even actually riding the bikes, nothing escaped his omniscient lens.

So as the road unfurled itself in front of me and I savored the perfect fit of my jersey and the taintal caress of my arguably overpriced but undeniably comfortable chamois, I just assumed it was a certainty that somewhere in "Bicycling" would appear a glossy photograph of me in full Fredly flight. Instead, imagine my surprise when the only picture of me was this:

Actually, I'm not even sure it's me, but there is the white Rapha arm band which signifies my membership in their "Army of Douche," and my head's also more or less level, which means I'm probably still focussing on not spilling my drool pool.

Of course, I am as Fredly as anybody, and the fact that I'm disappointed over this photo when it's right next to an entire page of my own writing perfectly underscores the Fred psychology--which, to fall back on a cliché, is to fail to see the forest for the trees. Why enjoy the ride when you can fuss over your power meter? Why enjoy amateur bike racing when you can pay a coach to help you take it more seriously? Why be satisfied with ten speeds when you can have eleven? And so forth.

Also, at one point, a urinal auto-flushed so hard as I stepped to it that it overflowed and someone else's urine sloshed all over my Rapha socks:

Now that's "epic."

Still, I'd rather be doused in urine while wearing Rapha then humiliate myself while wearing in a polar bear costume:

I'm not sure if this "protest" does a greater disservice to cyclists or to the polar bears themselves, but either way it's one of the most horrifically cringe-inducing things I've ever seen. If these people really want to pretend to be polar bears while making a point they should go find a rapidly-melting iceberg and film their last days on it Timothy Treadwell-style. As it is, if you're wondering why the NYPD is picking on us so much recently, this is probably part of the reason.

Lastly, I have just received an exciting press release about the "Sanitov CB:"

The Sanitov CB (cargo bicycle), is the product of a cultural meeting between traditional Chinese bicycle design and the functionalistic, Danish design approach. The Bicycle is of a traditional Chinese cargo-bicycle infused with the latest technological Know-how and Scandinavian minimalism.

The Sanitov CB is sophisticated built from the best materials we can find. The Design includes, matching full leather handles and saddle, high quality stainless steel and aluminum frames and rack, a world innovative GPS Tracker-system and a battery-driven engine. The built-in battery-driven engine facilitates the function when going over long distances or when transporting heavy goods; a supplement ensuring the convenience and usability of the bicycle in all situations.

Wow, sounds impressive--except it turns out it's not a bicycle at all. Actually, it's a trike with a cart on it:

I wonder how many polar bears you can "portage" with it.