BSNYC Friday Fun Quiz and Holiday Recess Announcement Spectacular!

Oh, hi there, I didn't hear you come in. Do you like my slippers? How about my sweater with snowflakes on it? Did you notice when you pulled into my driveway that I dressed my Jeep Cherokee like a reindeer? It probably fooled you for a moment, but that's just how we get into the holiday spirit here in West Stereotype, CT. Please, ladle yourself out some egg nog, have a seat on the shabby chic sofa, and watch "Christmas Vacation" with us for the 17th time. We're happy to have you. Oh, the ham will be ready in 20 minutes. Doesn't it smell delicious?

(Shit, that's a bad motherfucking ham!)

In any case, now that you're comfortable, I should probably mention that it's officially Wildcat Rock Machine Holiday Recess Time. This means that, as of the freaky grilled cheese girl at the end of this post*, I'll be gone until Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012, at which point I will resume regular updates.

And while we're all gathered by the fire in my expansive Tudor style home, I'd like to tell you the story of my Bose:

In yesterday's post, I mentioned the above bicycle, laden as it is like Scattante Claus's sleigh. As a bike blogger, I know that any time I include a picture of a bicycle belonging to me--from the humblest Scattante to the loftiest neon green tiger skin-faired recumbent--it will receive some sort of criticism. I don't mind this at all, and in fact I enjoy it, since nit-picking is what this blog, cycling, and indeed the entire Internet is all about. I even make something of a game of of it, and try to guess which attribute will garner the most scorn. Will it be the headset spacers? The hue of the bar tape? The choice of derailleur or lack thereof? The live chicken I "portage" on the top tube at all times?

In this particular case though I was surprised that the object of derision was not a part of the bicycle at all, but was in fact the Bose box I was "portaging:"

From what I gathered from the comments, the common view of Bose is that they sell overpriced stereo equipment with poor sound quality to douchebags who don't know any better. My first instinct was to feel ashamed, and to explain away the box by claiming that it didn't house a Bose iPod thingy but that I was actually using it to protect my top tube chicken from the elements. But then I decided to own up to it, and to tell the heartwarming and sleep-inducing story behind it. Here goes:

Once upon a time, two people loved each other very much--so much that they decided to get married. However, they didn't want to have a douchey wedding with keynote speakers and lectures about cup recycling, even though one of them was an inveterate douchebag with a crappy bike blog. Instead, they decided to have a small party for their friends and family. (Well, the douchebag didn't have any friends, but he did have people who couldn't help being related to him.) So that's what they did.

Naturally, they wanted to have music at the party to fill the awkward silences, but the DJ from "Zoolander" wasn't available. So instead they decided to "curate" the music themselves and spend the savings on booze, and one of them (the one who is usually smarter, and who does not have a bike blog) had a cunning plan: to buy an iPod dock thingy, use it once for the party, and then take advantage of the store's liberal return policy by bringing it back for a full refund.

Well, after the party one day became two, and two became four, and four became 30, and before they knew it the window had closed, and even if it hadn't there was no way they'd ever find the receipt, and thus they became permanent owners of a Bose iPod thingy.

For years, the Bose was a symbol of lazy consumerism, and it languished in exactly the sort of storage unit that drives people like the TED minimalist guy crazy. (Now that I think about it, I should probably empty the storage unit and sell it to the TED minimalist guy, since it's even smaller than his apartment and he'd probably be willing to pay at least a few hundred grand to live in it.) But then the people and their 17 children were going away for the holidays, and they realized they might want to have music in the place where they'll be, and so the douchebag went to the storage unit and tied the Bose to his Scattante, and soon the family will bask in love and warmth and togetherness and holiday cheer and then they'll switch on the Bose and listen to this:

It makes me misty-eyed just thinking about it.

While I'm tapping a sentimental vein, I should also convey my sincere gratitude to everybody who reads this blog, takes the time to comment on it, or for that matter even takes two seconds to glance at it in order to remind themselves that they hate me. I'd also like to thank the proprietors of the "sponsored linkways" on this site, and to shamelessly point out that if you're looking for a last-minute holiday gift you should look no further than the right side of your screen. (Unless you're planning to buy someone a waffle iron. I don't think any of them sell waffle irons.)

As a parting gift pending my return in 2012, I'm also pleased to present you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right then holy crap wow!!!, and if you're wrong you'll see hilarity Italian style.

Thank you very much for reading, ride safe, and have a great holiday. See you on January 3rd, 2012, which is going to be the greatest year in the entire history of humankind.

--Wildcat Rock Machine