Bike Del

Showing posts with label this just in. Show all posts

This Just In: I'm Still Out But Here's Something Anyway!

I'm still chamois deep in Martin Luther King, Jr. Day festivities, but if you're really bored I just published something on the Bicycling website so you can read that instead:

That is all. I will see you tomorrow. I love you.

Love,

--Wildcat Rock Machine

PS: Scranus.

This Just In: It's The Holidays And I'll Recess If I Want To!

So how about that Apocalypse? Sure, it wasn't total devastation like some were predicting, but nevertheless it was a real inconvenience. At the very least, I'm going to have to go out and buy new underpants.

Speaking of underpants, that's something you sometimes find under the Christmas tree (either as a gift, or else crumpled up in a heap if you over-nogged it on Christmas Eve), and with the holidays upon us please note that after today's post I will be on a peanut-butter-and-chocolately-delicious Holiday Reese's until Wednesday, January 2nd, 2013, at which point I will return with regular updates. Until that time, you can bask in the virtual warmth of this holiday yule log:

Or, if you're a Wisconsin drunk, you can gather around the burning Obama instead:

Whatever your party affiliation, that's just disturbing.

In any case, I'll also point out that I had hoped to bore you with a longer end-of-the-year blogular posting, but believe it or not I am a parent (parenting is like riding a bike in that they'll let pretty much any idiot do it), and as it happens I have to strap on my daddy helment this morning and take care of some important parental business. Nevertheless, I will take the time to direct your attention to this article and video about Jerry Seinfeld:

Not only is it interesting, but it also turns out he rides a Pinarello road bike around the city:

A sleek Pinarello racing bicycle, which Seinfeld rides around town, stood against a wall. “It’s very addictive, that feeling of gliding through the city,” he said.

I had no idea he was a closet Fred, but I guess it goes with the Porsche fixation.

Also, here's video of Jerry Seinfeld "getting rad" on that very Pinarello:

Just kidding. That wasn't really Jerry Seinfeld. Also, I bet you never, ever saw that video before, nor are you completely tired of it. I know I'm not.

Lastly, before we all vanish into our own personal psychedelic tinsel-tastic holiday nightmares, I'll once again remind you that if you're looking for last minute gifts for people you don't like that much you should a) Buy My Books; and b) Patronize Our Sponsors, as seen in the right-hand margin. For example, not only are Knog lights useful for your bike, but they're also great as beacons so that make-believe planes don't accidentally fly into your make-believe George Washington Bridge:

Yes, that's the George Washington Bridge, because the East River crossings are sooo last decade. Plus, Knog lights are waterproof so they make great tub toys. By the way, if you think it's my kid who's playing with Knog lights then you're mistaken. The block architecture and the tub play is all me, and he knows if he gets anywhere near my toys I'll take away his box cutter.

And with that, I turn you over to the holidays and all the joy, depression, and general ennui that comes with them. Hopefully you only experience the joy part. Once again, please excuse my hasty departure, and I look forward to returning on Wednesday, January 3rd, 2013 (holy crap, it's the future!) with regular updates. (Or even earlier, which is highly unlikely, but not impossible.)

Most of all, thank you very much for reading this crap every day, it makes me very happy to type it.

This Just In: A Short-Ish Absence

So the time has finally come. I've threatened, and I've demurred. I've insisted, and then I've backed down. I've thwarted, and I've been thwarted, and I've waffled and I've eaten waffles, and I've committed and reneged only to commit again, but at long last it's now official.

I'm moving to Portland.

Yeah, right. I'd chew my own arms off in a month if I had to live in Portland. I am actually moving though.

"So what the hell does that have to do with me?," you're probably wondering. Well, my move affects you inasmuch as my myriad movular responsibilities will prohibit me from updating this blog until Monday, November 19th, at which point I will resume something like regular updates. And before you start in about how it only takes one day to move, please bear in mind that 1) I'm not one of those stupid minimalists; and 2) I'm doing this entirely by cargo bike, so between now and next Monday I have to make roughly 150 round trips between my current home and my new one. (Click here to see my cargo bike outfitted for a big move.)

"So where are you moving?," you probably aren't asking because you don't give a crap about my extra-blogular comings and goings, and rightly so. Well, to answer you anyway, we're staying in New York City but we're leaving Brooklyn, which has treated me very well for many years but which has also become an increasingly expensive place to live, especially if you don't want to share a bedroom with your seventeen children. Sure, I'm obviously ridiculously wealthy, but in Brooklyn all I can afford is a fabulously remodeled townhouse next-door to Martin Amis, whereas in my new part of town I can build a full-scale replica of Seattle's Space Needle from scratch, which is exactly what I did. Who wants to live on street level listening to all that drunken spondee at all hours when instead you can tower 600 feet above the serfs in God's Rectal Thermometer? Plus, my new locale will place me considerably closer to both paved and unpaved recreational bicycle cycling routes, and when it comes down to it isn't that what life is all about?

Best of all, you're all invited over for Thanksgiving dinner, and you can find directions here.

In any case, I'll refrain from burdening you with any further details regarding my change of venue at this time, though I will add that I will not be decorating my new home with Spinergy light fixtures, as seen via Twitter:

Here's the backstory:

People usually have a love-it-or-hate-it relationship with Spinergy Rev-X wheels, but when I saw a damaged specimen at a flea market, I figured I just had to buy it and think of something to do with it. Pages of design sketches later, the Xtralight ceiling lamp was conceived.

It's very misleading to refer to a Spinergy Rev-X as a "damaged specimen," since that implies there's such a thing as an intact one. Heavy, ugly, and failure-prone, the Rev-X was essentially pre-damaged from the moment it left the factory, and why you'd actually want to sleep under one is beyond me. Even more amazingly, this guy's wife sleeps under it too:

I wonder if he put those stupid stiffeners between the "spokes" to prevent it from shaking too much during coitus--though it's hard to imagine the bedroom's "Retro-Fred Chic" decor inspiring much lovemaking. How do you even set the mood like that? Turn on the red blinky light on the crabon seatpost you use as a bedside lamp?

Worst of all, he left off the "epic" Spinergy pie plate:

Now it's liable to fall off the ceiling and sever his knee, like that urban myth about Michele Bartoli.

Speaking of danger, as cyclocross continues to explode in popularity like a Spinergy explodes in..well, like a Spinergy just explodes, it would appear that a Cat 4 cyclocross start is rapidly becoming the most dangerous place it's possible to find yourself on a bicycle, as evidenced by this video that was forwarded to me by a reader:

(Freds rushing where the agile fear to tread.)

Getting the holeshot is nice and all, but it's what you do with it that counts, and if you're not confident that you can hold out for the win then you owe it to yourself and your fellow riders to squander it spectacularly.

Meanwhile, as amateurs keep crashing, pros keep apologizing, and now Bradley Wiggins is sorry that he gave a photographer "the finger" after he got hit by a car:

“I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their kind thoughts and messages over the last 48 hours, and of course all the staff at the Royal Preston Hospital who looked after me so well,” Wiggins is quoted as saying on Team Sky’s website. “I would also like to apologize for the gesture that I made when I arrived home yesterday afternoon. I was tired, in a lot of pain, and just wanted to get inside, but I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I’m sorry for that."

As sponsors continue to withdraw from the sport I look forward to the day that European professional road racing will finally go the way of six-day races in Madison Square Garden, but in the meantime the least these riders could do is stop apologizing all the time. The doping apologies are disingenuous enough, but the idea that Wiggins--who spews "cunts" and "birds" like some sort of gynecological aviary--had a momentary lapse that he now regrets is just absurd. Moreover, his response was completely warranted. Really, he shouldn't apologize at all, but if he really feels the need to express regret over something he should apologize for some of his past haircuts:

("Helment hair" would be an improvement.)

Yes, as cyclists become increasingly disenchanted with the professionals the Freds of Tomorrow will cease to emulate them, and instead will dress like tennis players and golfers--or at least that's what Giro seems to think, judging by their "New Road" line of clothing:

Here's what Bradley Wiggins would look like if he were a cycling shoe:

See?

Part of me wants to like the Giro New Road clothes for their understated functionality, and part of me wonders if this sort of attempt to sidestep Fredliness is in fact more Fredly than Fred-ness itself. Either way, everybody knows that cycling clothing disguised as regular clothing was perfected years ago by Primal Wear with their Ritz Tuxedo jersey:

Why look like you're on your way to the driving range when you could look like you're riding to your gig as a saxophonist in a 1970s bar mitzvah band?

Lastly, Transportation Alternatives have released this video to teach New Yorkers how to behave at intersections:

Which includes an admonition against texting and walking:

However, the truth is that it's actually good technique to walk around with your phone directly in your face, since if I'd been doing that I'd never have smashed my nose into that gate last week.

If you're not going to walk around in a helment, holding your smartphone in front of your face is the next best thing.

See you again on Monday, November 19th,

--Wildcat Rock Machine

This Just In: Short Post!

First of all, in yesterday's post I mistakenly referred to the syphilis virus:

(Click here to hear the sound of syphilis!)

Subsequently, various people commented and emailed to inform me that syphilis is not a virus and is actually a bacteria or something like that, or at least not a virus. I'm not sure why my readers are so knowledgeable about STDs, but for whatever reason many of you are clearly troubled by syphilis defamation, and therefore I apologize for my mistake. However, I will point out in my own defense that I at least spelled "syphilis" correctly, which is more than I can say for some of the people who corrected me.

Second of all, yesterday I also mentioned a ride to Far Rockaway to deliver supplies. I will actually be joining that ride, and because it leaves shortly today's post will only have 66 more words in it, plus one picture. Tomorrow I will return with regular updates, but in the meantime please exercise your right to vote, unless you're legitimately disenfranchised, or else a citizen of some godless foreign power like Canada or Portland, Oregon, where the vote doesn't even matter anyway because all they do is write in the name of their favorite framebuilder.

Love,

--Wildcat Rock Machine

This Just In: I'm Going Somewhere!

This morning I am off to visit our passive-aggressive neighbors to the north. This means tomorrow's post will not exist. However, I will return on Monday, October 1st with regular updates. In the meantime, here's where I'll be in Hamilton if you wish to avoid me:

Before I leave though I thought I'd update you on the Budnitz, since we had our first day real day out on the town yesterday. First I locked it up while I got a haircut, which I needed badly since without one there was no way Canadian customs would let me into their country:

Any thief operating in this residential part of Brooklyn was likely to be an opportunist on the lookout for unlocked bikes rather than the professional kind equipped with power tools, but even so I secured it with chain lock, u-lock, and cable lock through the dainty ass-pedestal. Note how delightfully "urban" the titanium downtube looks when it's chained purposefully to a city bike rack. I'm sure Old Man Budnitz is delighted:

Though he'd probably be less delighted to know how scratched the bike already is. In any case, when I emerged from the barbershop the Budnitz was still there, thanks no doubt to that King/Winfrey talisman. The Budnitz was also appalled to learn that I had gotten my haircut for less than $200. I explained to it that I don't go in for that sort of nonsense, and anyway I was only going to Canada, where sporting a designer coiffure would be casting pearls before swine.

As for the experience of actually riding the Budnitz, unsurprisingly it rides nicely, though that requires ignoring the constant ticking sound which I had attributed to the loose skewer but is in fact probably coming from the bottom bracket:

I tightened the wedge bolt on the eccentric bottom bracket as much as I dared but the sound is still there, and it underscores exactly why these short-term bike tests are so ridiculous. Anyone qualified to properly evaluate a bicycle would also be driven mad by such a sound, which means they're either going to be miserable the whole time, or else they're going to spend the entire testing period trying to eliminate it. As for me, I don't have time to be pulling bottom brackets and regreasing them (I have Canadas to visit for one thing), and there are few things more embarrassing than riding around on a $5,600 titanium city bike with a ticking bottom bracket. With every pedal stroke you're telling the world, "I'm rich and clueless!," though in my case hopefully my cheap haircut makes it clear that I'm merely clueless. In any case, it would be nice if Budnitz had supplied me with a properly-assembled bicycle so I could focus on riding the thing, but I guess that's too much to ask from a design firm.

The other problem with the ticking bottom bracket is that it makes "Cat 6" racing difficult, since it eliminates the element of surprise. Make no mistake: the typical Budnitz owner is going to want to Cat 6 the shit out of this thing, and in a sense it's the ideal Cat 6 racing machine in that it's a bike built from top-of-the-line racing components that is completely unraceable. So after getting my haircut I decided to swallow my pride (which is easy since my pride is so tiny) and test it out on one of Brooklyn's premiere proving grounds, the "hill" in Prospect Park:

First, at about :08 seconds, I pick off the guy on the Pista. Then, at :14 seconds, I give the couple out for a leisurely bike ride "The Look" (which, on a Budnitz, is a rarefied blend of the one Armstrong shot at Ullrich, "Blue Steel" by Derek Zoolander, and having to fart). At :29 seconds I make mincemeat of the middle-aged woman in the sandals. Then, at :38 seconds, I finally get "on terms" with my most dreaded adversary, the guy on the blue road bike wearing running shoes, and in a stunning burst of douchebag-fueled ticking titanium fury I drop him and power to the "summit." The bottom bracket protests loudly the entire time, and I can assure you the motor sound at the end of the video is from a nearby lawn-edger and not some secret Cancellara power-assist on the Budnitz, which I realize is difficult to believe given my blistering speed.

But the real test would soon follow. After my mighty victory, I took the douche chariot to one Brooklyn's douchiest neighborhoods, DUMBO, where I had a lengthy appointment. (As for the nature of that appointment, all you have to know is that it was protracted douche business.) Unlike the neighborhood in which I got a haircut, there was a chance the Budnitz might attract a professional thief here, but I was sure to give it a fighting chance by securing it with plenty of hardware:

There it sat until nightfall, and when I returned it was still there:

Sure, it wasn't Manhattan where they really steal bikes, but this unattended sojourn at a bike rack brought the Budnitz that much closer to not getting stolen during my tenure. Next I fired up my Knog Blinder (which nearly gave me a sunburn):

And with that I was off.

Speaking of Knog Blinders, that's what winners of The Second Biennial Cock-Off contest will win, and if you still want to enter please do so before 11:59pm tonight, which I've just arbitrarily decided will be the deadline. Good luck, and happy cocking.

Lastly, one more thing about the Budnitz: it is equipped with Avid BB7 mechanical disc brakes. I happen to like these brakes for the simple reason they're very easy to maintain, and for this reason I currently use them on no fewer than three (3) of my bicycles, which means I have a pretty good amount of experience with them. On the Budnitz, however, they do something I've never experienced on any other bike. What happens is, when you're gradually slowing (as you might when you're approaching a stop sign or a place to get a $200 haircut), they seem to hit a certain frequency at which they howl like a ship in a harbor:

The issue isn't the sound, though. (If you don't like brake noises don't use Avid BB7s.) The issue is that along with the sound comes a deep vibration that travels through the entire bike and then right up to your scranus. It's extreme and rather disconcerting, though I'm sure there are some people who would find such a thing pleasurable. I've never experienced this with Avid BB7s on any other bike, and I don't know if it has to do with the swoopy titanium fame tubing or it's just some confluence of atmospheric conditions, pad wear, lunar phase, and so forth. If it is the frame, then Budnitz may have inadvertently designed a taint-blaster that does to the scranus what the building in "Ghostbusters" did to New York City. But again, I've only had the bike for two days, and it's yet another reason why short-term bike tests are ridiculous.

And with that, I'm off to Canada with the tingling from last night's ride still fresh in my downstairs area. Have a great weekend, ride safe, and I'll see you on Monday, October 1st.

Love,

--Wildcat Rock Machine

This Just In: You're On Your Own For a Week!

Dear Loyal Readers, Occasional Readers, First-Time Readers, Last-Time Readers Who Are Totally Over This Blog But Are Checking In One Final Time In Order to Leave a Nasty Comment, and Random Internet Browsers Looking for Images of Naked People on Recumbents:

Owing to an urgent and unforeseen family matter I will be unable to update the BikeSnobNYC blog this week. (ShedSnobNYC updates, however, will remain unaffected.) I apologize for the inconvenience, especially on the heels of my book tour, but I assure you that despite my flippant tone it's an unhappy circumstance and the absence is very necessary. I also assure you that I made every effort to engage the services of a substitute blogger for the duration of my absence, but I'm sorry to report that Cormac McCarthy refused, and as far as I'm concerned it's him or nobody.

What a dick.

In any case, I will return to my posting post on Monday, April 30th. I will also be appearing (which sounds disconcertingly spectral) this coming Saturday, April 28th, at The New Amsterdam Bike Show in New York City:

Sure, New York City's something of a cultural backwater as far as cycling is concerned, but it happens to be my home so I figured what the heck. Evidently I'll be speaking in the "Bikelandia" area at 4:00pm, after which I'll be at the Brooks booth where I'll happily ruin your copy of my book (or anything else you stick in front of me, including cherished pets) with my signature.

In the meantime, rest assured I look forward to my return, at which point I will address numerous pressing matters, including but not limited to:

--Giving away some Knog Blinders;
--Sharing photos from my west coast BRA;
--Other stuff;
--More other stuff.

And remember, if you're looking for someone to blame for all this, I suggest you start with that selfish prick Cormac McCarthy.

Thanks for understanding, ride safe, and I look forward to seeing you on Monday, April 30th.

--Wildcat Rock Machine

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

Obscure Bike Blogger Feels Yucky and Stuff

Brooklyn, USA, January 30th, 2012 -- On the eve of the return to his ~~widely~~ read bicycle cycling blog after a week-long hiatus, the blogger BikeSnobNYC (also known as "Wildcat Rock Machine") fell victim to the stomach flu.

The blogger acquired the illness from his young son, most likely while engaged in the questionable practice of handling vomit while not wearing a helment, and spent much of yesterday evening regurgitating Tibetan food.

"I feel like I just finished a Single Speed World Championship," said the bedridden blogger, "apart from the fact that I'm currently wearing pants."

"Scranus," he then added before rolling over and groaning.

In addition to curating, cultivating, manhandling, and otherwise molesting the BikeSnobNYC blog, BikeSnobNYC is also the author of the book "Bike Snob," the forthcoming book "The Enlightened Cyclist," and also, under the pseudonym Wiley McRothstein, the popular instructional manual "How to Pick up Women at Hospitals and Funerals," now in its 216th printing and the winner of the 1987 Pulitzer Prize for general nonfiction.

BikeSnobNYC hopes to be able to return to his blog in earnest as soon as possible, and has already consumed an entire English muffin (top half and bottom half) with success.

Pending his return, BikeSnobNYC would like to share two (2) humorous videos. The first one is a trailer for an upcoming movie called "Peloton," which comes via Cycling Inquisition and which you may also have seen on the All Hail the Black Market webbing site:

Don't bother trying to fast-forward to the part where they finally start "doing it," because amazingly it isn't there.

The other is this hilarious video called "Shit Mussolini Says:"

Wow, the whole "Shit [Blanks] Say" thing never gets old.

With that, I return unto my private misery, but with any luck I hope to be back tomorrow in finer fettle. In the meantime, in lieu of flowers, please send any well-wishings in the form of a donation to your local Dachshund rescue society. Because all wiener dogs should have a loving home--and a bun.

--Wildcat Rock Machine

This Just In: Umlaut Hö!

(The exact speed at which a Fred goes, "Wooo-hoo-hoo-hoo!," by "Anonymous Coward")

This morning started out like any other. I woke up in the bathtub, took off my scuba flippers, puttered into the kitchen, and poured myself a Bartles & Jaymes. Then, I casually checked my Just Dachshunds 2011 wall calendar on which my helper monkey, Vito, notes my appointments, where I noticed the following:

"Holy crap!," I exclaimed, spraying mojito-flavored wine cooler everywhere. Not only was my wiener dog Anthony due for an oil change at the end of the month, but I also had to leave for Gothenburg, Sweden--today! This is because I'll be speaking at the Göteborgs cykelfestival this coming Saturday and it will take me at least two days to ride there from Brooklyn:

Ordinarily it would only take me a day at most, but I'll be making the trip on a fixed-gear for additional street cred. On top of that, it will also take another two days for me to ride my fixie back from Gothenburg to Brooklyn, which means that I will not be posting tomorrow or Monday but will be back on Tuesday, June 14th with regular updates.

Vito will be staying behind and offered to post in my absence, but frankly he's a way better blogger than me and is liable to usurp this entire operation.

In any case, it occurs to me now that I've accepted an invitation from a person I've never met to visit a country to which I've never been in order to go to a festival that is a complete mystery to me since all the promotional materials are in Swedish. Nevertheless, I'm placing my full faith in the "bike culture" and hoping I won't be bound with duct tape, stuffed into the trunk of a Volvo, and dumped into a fjord somewhere. I've also done my due diligence by researching the Gothenburg bike scene and even watching some of their local fixed-gear freestyling "edits:"

Wow, these guys are on a whole other level. I particularly enjoyed the flawless angst-to-barspin, as well as the moment when the protagonist is attacked by a failed Aerospoke representing his own mortality:

I'm also practicing how to pronounce "Göteborg," but I'm not having much luck. Not only does the actual pronunciation have like eight more syllables than there are in the written name, but I don't even hear any of the same letters. In fact, I'm pretty sure he said "Yurts are boring"--which they are, but which doesn't change the fact that I'm, like, totally screwed.

Speaking of being screwed, many riders were screwed in The Great New York City Bicycle Crackdown of 2011 in that they received tickets for things that were not actually illegal. By now I'm sure nearly everybody on the planet Erf has seen the excellent Casey Neistat video, but it warrants inclusion here nonetheless:

I enjoyed this tremendously, but the only thing more frustrating than police ticketing cyclists for not riding in a bike lane is that some people are actually giving the filmmaker a hard time for not wearing a helmet. Apparently here in Canada's custom insole cycle-smugness yields to nothing, not even satire.

Meanwhile, illegitimate ticketing is not limited to New York City, for a reader tells me that a child-portager in London was recently ticketed for hauling a double-payload of human smugness:

Obviously she needs to satirize the incident by making a video of herself plowing into traffic cones and construction sites with both children on the bike. It will become a viral sensation, though the could lose custody of her kids.

Actually, I'm tempted to somehow work in a visit to London while I'm over in the Old World, since another reader tells me you can buy a £1million house full of bike crap:

If Scotland Yard is still hunting that mass murderer who's been preying on tweed ride participants, I think they may want to have a word or two with the seller, a certain "Mr. Wilsdon:"

I wonder if he also eats the tweed.

And with that, I'm stuffing my messenger bag full of clean underpants, straddling my fixie, and hitting the road to Gothenburg. I look forward to returning to this blog on Tuesday, but until then I remain,

Truly yours,

--BSNYC/RTMS

This Just In: An Annoying "Out of Office" Auto-Reply!

(Hitting the rode.)

Of all the fears I harbor (and there are many), three of them loom greater and more forbiddingly than all the rest, and they are (in ascending order of menace):

3) Having to use an unfamiliar bathroom;

2) Having to express a cat's anal glands;

And of course the big one,

1) Having to take temporary leave of this blog.

Alas, it is with a heavy heart that I announce I must do numbers three (3) and one (1), for I have traveling to do, and these travels mean that not only will I have to use unfamiliar bathrooms (unless I can "hold it in" for a really long time), but I will also be unable to place words into this blog (at least not ones worth reading, inasmuch as any of this is worth reading, which is debatable, but believe it or not I do have standards).

All of this is a very roundabout way of saying that I'm about to board a plane and that I will be away from this blog until Thursday, March 3rd, at which point I will return with regular updates. Yes, there is much to look forward to in March, as you can see from looking at this calendar:

As for the nature of my travels, the first portion of the trip will actually consist of testing bicycles with the editorial staff of Bicycling magazine, during which I will finally get to see how they decide that one crabon bicycle is more laterally still and vertically compliant than another. This is very poignant for me, since it's been almost four years since I wrote this post, and I'm dying to find out if Bicycling's testing process is as unintentionally funny as the reviews it yields. Sadly though I'll probably never find out, since judging by my recent training numbers I expect to get dropped immediately and never see the editorial staff of Bicycling ever again:

As for the second portion of the trip, that goes beyond the purview of this blog, but let's just say I'm finally going into the studio to record that country and Western album I've been talking about.

In any case, like a good minimalist, I've got my suitcase bike:

And my suitcase chair:

And a suitcase for my cellphone and cellphone accessories:

Though unfortunately I don't have a suitcase for my actual clothes, since apparently they don't make those anymore. Also, I was unable to find my preferred road bicycle riding sunglasses (otherwise known as "optics"), and after much digging all I was able to turn up were these positively Fred-tastic Oakley M Frames in a strange orangey-yellow "colorway" from "back in the day:"

(Oakley M Frames and disembodied hand.)

I may just have to squint on this trip, though I imagine I'd also cut a dashing Kenny Powers-esque figure as I sit in the terminal on my suitcase chair gazing at the departure screen through my M Frames. Or maybe I'll just put them on eBay, where bicycles and bicycle parts surf an endless sea of disembodied hands, like concertgoers at Lollapalooza:

(Impressive eBay disembodied hand curation forwarded by a reader.)

In the meantime, I apologize for neglecting my blogular duties, but I will point out that I did blogulate yesterday, which was technically a holiday, so that's something anyway. Also, if I have anything urgent to relate during my absence I will do so by means of my Tweeter. As always, thank you very much for reading, and I look forward to returning on Thursday, March 3rd.

Until then, I remain yours,

--BSNYC/RTMS

BSNYC/vthm

cc: David Byrne

bcc: David Byrne's car

This Just In: Leave of Absence Announcement! (and Friday Fun Quiz!)

(The Lone Wolf recedes into the distance, as photographed by a reader.)

As another week draws to a close and we embark upon the Memorial Day weekend I am also embarking upon a short leave of absence, during which I will be attending to matters of personal life "curation" well beyond the purview of this blog. This leave will commence as of the end of this post, and it will continue until Monday, June 7th, at which point I will return with regular updates.

During my absence, I would humbly point out that you can always read my book, the obviously-titled "Bike Snob," which is available wherever fine books are sold. (They keep my book next to the fine books so they look even finer.) Otherwise, by way of blogular webular sites, there is always Cycling Inquisition, All Hail the Black Market, or, for the ultimate in bawdy and ribald cycling blogs, The Erotic Misadventures of Mario Cipollini. Also, if I have anything pressing to share in the meantime (such as the publication of a Universal Sports Giro blog or the latest news in my helper monkey Vito's ongoing battle with head lice), I may do so by means of my Twitter social networking account.

I look forward to returning to this blog on June 7th, as well as to meeting some of you at my Book-Related Appearances (or BRAs) in a few weeks' time.

In the meantime, I'm pleased to present you with a short quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right you'll know, and if you're wrong you'll see dangling keys and pretentious skidding.

Thanks very much for reading and ride safe. See you on June 7th.

--BSNYC/RTMS