Regular Movements: Ordinary is the New Revolutionary

When we talk about a social movement, we generally mean (as Merriam-Webster defines it) "a series of organized activities working toward an objective." Consider for example the American Civil Rights Movement, or the Women's Movement, or the American Labor Movement. These were the plate tectonics that shifted our cultural landscape and transformed us into a more enlightened and egalitarian society.

Of course, now that (some) workers can collect a fair wage, and women can wear pants, and black people and white people can urinate side-by-side in perfect harmony in public restrooms all over America, it's only natural that we should enter into a period of "movement depreciation." This is because all the big battles have all been fought, and so now we're down to little skirmishes. Consequently, just like matching your grips to your saddle now qualifies as "curating," pretty much anything that's more than one person is doing at the same time now counts as a "movement." This includes riding a bicycle in regular clothes, as you can see in this article about the "Slow Bike Movement" which was forwarded to me by a reader:

Apparently, the Slow Bike Movement consists of "those who eschew speed and spandex in favor of sitting upright and slowly making their way through town in whatever they happen to be wearing that day." In other words, they're people with no agenda whatsoever doing nothing that's even remotely remarkable.

That's all great, but how is it a "movement?" The Freedom Riders of the 1960s were part of a movement, and I suppose the Klansmen were also part of a movement (albeit a twisted and reprehensible one), but the average schmuck who just sat on his couch watching "Mister Ed" and didn't really care one way or the other was not. Today, however, he'd be part of the rapidly-growing "Indifference Movement," and would be the subject of fawning feature articles about these brave preservationists with the courage to maintain the status quo by doing fuck-all and not giving a shit.

It's "passive resistance," only without the resistance.

Of course, like any modern movement, the Slow Bikes Movement is not so much an actual movement as it is a marketing demographic, which is why its spokespeople are bike company owners:

"When I think about the Slow Bike Movement, I think of bikes that allow people to sit upright, see your surroundings, be more visible to your environment that you're riding," says Public Bikes' Dan Nguyen-Tan. "As a company, we're in the middle of this wave of growing numbers of people incorporating a bike into their daily lives."

This is great news, since it turns out that I'm not just a regular schlub when I'm going to the store to pick up bagels. I'm actually a member of the Slow Bike Movement, and this makes me feel vastly better about myself. I guess I'm also a member of the Slow Running Movement by default, since sometimes when I go to get bagels I don't even bother with the bike. Slow runners are those who eschew high-tech shoes and Lycra running shorts in favor of slowly making their way through town in whatever they happen to be wearing that day. This is also sometimes called "walking." When I think about the Slow Running Movement, I think of shoes that allow people to stand upright, see their surroundings, and, most importantly, feel really good about themselves for no reason whatsoever. It's a wave of growing numbers of people incorporating footwear into their daily lives.

And finally, when I eat the bagels, I'm a member of the Slow Eating Movement. Slow eaters are those who eschew speed and special headbands in favor of sitting upright and consuming their sustenance in whatever they happen to be wearing that day:

Though I will occasionally "Cat 6" someone at Subway by trying to eat my sandwich faster than them.

I suppose the "movement" appellation isn't totally unwarranted, though, since it's true the average sub-Canadian has trouble understanding the bicycle when it's not being used as a piece of sporting equipment. In this sense, riding a bicycle in whatever you happen to be wearing actually is something of a countercultural act, which is a sad commentary on Americo-Canadian society. If only we could all move to Vilnius in Lithuania, where the mayor crushes bike lane-blocking cars with tanks, then maybe we'd finally get some respect:


Here's video of the crushing, which transcends "publicity stunt" and goes all the way to "smugness porn:"



“I wanted to send a message” Mr Zuokas told the media. “I want to point out that if you have a car and more money it doesn’t mean that you can park it everywhere. Recently there’s been an increase in this type of parking violations, and it shows a lack of respect for others”.

This is a fascinating concept, though it goes against everything I've been taught as a sub-Canadian. "Respect," as I've always understood it, is something you only use in lieu of money, like food stamps. Then, once you actually have money, you're supposed to use that instead of respect. I didn't think it was legal or even possible to pay people both money and respect. Isn't that a conflict of interest? Once you can afford it, I thought it was your responsibility to treat people poorly and to buy expensive stuff with logos on it. Those logos are basically de facto permits, and they allow you to do stuff like this:

Where's the mayor of Vilnius when you need him? I'd even settle for Mayor Bloomburg on a Big Wheel.

Meanwhile, in Australia, a reader informs me that cyclists are now being punished for getting in the way of people's car doors:


“We have seen a number of incidents recently, particularly in the St Kilda Road area, where cyclists have collided with opening car doors," Senior Sergeant Huntington said.

Naturally, then, the police are cracking down--on the cyclists. This seems akin to punishing a shooting victim for getting in the way of a bullet, but perhaps it's a southern hemisphere thing. Anyway, this is for the cyclists' own protection, since when you have an accident on your bike there's "no second chance:"

"There's no second chance for a bike rider. When involved in an accident it's always going to be a serious incident."

Right, because it's completely impossible to have a non-serious accident on a bicycle:



Laugh if you will, but he died of his injuries only hours later.

Yes, it's essential to keep up the illusion that cycling is a suicidal endeavor, for it allows your local authorities to discourage it altogether and then punish you for your own protection if you have the temerity to do it anyway. The truth is I'd much rather be involved in a boneheaded bicycle crash while I'm on a Slow Bike Movement-style bagel run than a car crash on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, but that's only because I tend to forget it's impossible to get hurt in a car but riding a bicycle is certain death.

Speaking of doorings, I wonder if you're likely to fare better against a car door if you're riding an "incumbent bicycle:"

The above image was forwarded to me by a reader, and while I don't know about the dooring scenario it does turn out that these so-called "incumbent bicycles" do raise visibility issues:

Incumbent Bicycle Car Crash In Oregon And Washington

Having handled many bike crashes (involving cars) in Oregon these last 17 years I know bikers get the bad rap. Often in bike versus car crash and this applies equally well to incumbent bike car crashes. Incumbent bikes are designed to ride lower to the ground making visibility often a recurring issue in bike car cases whether involving settlement or litigation of the injury case.

Biking laws in Oregon and Washington do not differentiate between incumbent bike law and non incumbent bike law so the regular rules of the road apply. I have seen more serious injuries involving incumbent bikes versus non incumbent but I have also seen a much higher knowledge of bike rules and biker expertise of those who ride incumbent bikes.

I still don't know what an "incumbent bicycle" is, though the Peterson Law Office's use of the term does make me doubt their expertise. Perhaps this (forwarded by a reader) is an "incumbent bicycle:"


Or maybe the builder just wanted to know what it would feel like to be a pair of "pants yabbies."

Rethinking Smugness: Steel is the New Bamboo

There's an old saying about bicycle components. This saying goes something like, "Light, strong, delicious: choose two." Well, this no longer holds true--at least if you're a panda--thanks to the rise of the bamboo bicycle frame:

(Freds who ride bamboo bikes are called "Gilligans," while their retrogrouch counterparts are called "Robinson Crusoes.")

In recent years, cyclists everywhere have been lashing stalks of bamboo together like desperate castaways fashioning rafts, and a reader informs me that Brooklyn's Bamboo Bike Studio is now expanding:

Not only that, you can now go the the Bamboo Bike Studio and make yourself a bike out of (play this sound as you read the next word) steel:

The Brooklyn-based Bamboo Bike Studio (BBS), where DIYers make their own bike frame out of bamboo in a two-day workshop, is opening satellite studios and branching out into the assembly of steel frame bikes.

Wait, what? I thought bamboo bicycles were the ultimate in sustainability, and that the world was going to be saved by a new generation of bike-cultural basket weavers who grow their own transportation in community gardens. Well, apparently not, since it turns out the bamboo bike is about as politically correct as a disposable diaper:

The decision to branch out into steel frame bikes, oddly enough, was made in response to the assertion that the bamboo bikes were not totally green because they can’t be recycled. The epoxy used on the carbon fiber joints on BBS’s bamboo bikes isn’t recyclable. “We thought that was a valid criticism,” says Odlin. But the studio is testing bikes made with a bio-degradable epoxy and Odlin hopes that eventually bamboo bikes will be totally recyclable.

In other words, as far as sustainability goes, the only difference between a bamboo bike and a Cannondale Synapse is that the tolerances on the bamboo bike are looser than a congressman's ethics. Well, that, and the fact that bamboo bikes look better than Cannondales when they're bedazzled with elbow macaroni.

I'm also guessing that nobody's yet ready to discuss the cognitive dissonance involved in experimenting with bio-degradable epoxy in order to build a bicycle which will ultimately be assembled with the same metal components used on pretty much every other bike anyway. Then again, maybe I'm wrong and they're also experimenting with ball bearings made from seeds and tires woven from grass.

By the way, none of this is to disparage the act of making your own bamboo bike, which I'm sure is an enjoyable and edifying experience--I just happen to enjoy the irony. And certainly a homemade bamboo bike is more interesting than an imported crabon one. Sure, if you encounter a peckish panda your bamboo bicycle is liable to be eaten, but a reader informs me that if you run into a bear on your crabon bike it's not going to survive either:

The Sternbergs and other passers-by stopped to help Woodard and collect pieces of his broken bicycle, which were strewn everywhere. The carbon frame was snapped clean in two places.

Of course, as any steel apologist will tell you before you tell him to shut up (it's best to derail steel bike aficionados immediately before they manage to gain momentum), had the bicycle been of the ferrous variety then it could have been repaired. Sure, those repairs will cost you the price of three new frames, but then you wouldn't be able to brag on Internet forums about how your bike survived a bear attack.

Furthermore, as Larry Olmsted would surely tell you, had the bicycle been a titanium Seven it would have fit so well that you'd have been able to avoid the bear altogether thanks to the bike's telepathic handling. In fact, the 100+ question Seven Cycles questionnaire actually includes an entire section on wildlife evasion. And, should the unthinkable happen and you actually hit the bear, you can use your frame's superior strength-to-weight ratio and oversized seat tube to prevent the beast's jaws from clamping down on you.

Fortunately, in this case, the Sternberg family was there to assist the victim, but what if they hadn't? What if Woodward had been forced to spend the night in the wilderness? Well, if you're ever trapped with an unrideable bicycle, the first thing you should do is try to find some bamboo and build a replacement. However, if this is impossible, you should immediately build a cannon from your spokes and hunt for food:

This is yet another reason for retrogrouches to feel smug about their handbuilt wheelsets. Go ahead and try that with your Ksyriums. Sure, you could probably build a depth bomb with one of those exploding R-Sys wheels, but afterwards it would be totally unrideable. On the other hand, all it takes is two spokes to build a bicycle spoke cannon, after which you've still got 34 left assuming you're "palping" the Jobst Brandt-approved full complement of 36.

Speaking of survival skills, New York magazine is apparently stunned that Anderson Cooper manages to survive in New York City even though he rides without a helment:

Here's the video to which they're referring:



Oh, give the guy a break. It's certainly a goofy commercial, but least he's not being shuttled around the city in a giant SUV. Plus, I bet he wasn't wearing a helment when he got punched in the head 10 times in Egypt either, and I don't recall people giving him a hard time for that:

Of course, while Anderson Cooper may be gray of hair, he's not yet technically one of the "peloton of Peter Pans," as described in this article which was forwarded to me by a reader:

When I saw the headline I just assumed it was about a bunch of people who ride in green tights, but apparently it refers to people over 50. I think we all know that cyclists age well, but the article did contain some interesting statistics:

Sixty-five percent of the members of the Santa Rosa Cycling Club are over 50, half the entrants in the club’s Wine Country Century were over 50, and 61 percent of the entrants in the recent Harvest Century Bike Tour in Healdsburg are over 50.

Really, only half? I'm actually surprised something called the "Wine Country Century" skews so young.

Help Me Help You: All You Haters Pull My Bootstraps

Hi! Welcome to my Kickstarter page. I am a sardonic cycling enthusiast and aspiring blogger who spends the bulk of the day in my underpants surrounded by soggy half-eaten bowls of heavily-sweetened breakfast cereal.

Also, I have a cat:

(The cat that I have.)

I am planning to create an Internet blog post about bikes. This blog post will have words, and pictures, and possibly video, and will feature state-of-the-art 1990s-era blogging features such as "hyperlinks." It will also allow readers to leave "comments" such as "LOL," "Cats rule!," and "You suck!" Just imagine not only being able to read about bikes on your web-enabled device, but also being able to tell the person who wrote what you're reading that he sucks. Holy shit, right?

This is where YOU come in. I estimate that it will take me anywhere from one-half to one hour to complete this project, as well as a budget of around $5 (I'm out of Froot Loops), and I'm simply not prepared to launch a project of this scope purely on speculation. After all, this is America (the crappy prize hidden inside your box of Canada Flakes), and Americans shouldn't have to make any sort of effort unless our success is assured beforehand.

So I'm going to need 50 grand.

Also, I lied about the cat. I actually don't have a cat, but I thought if I said I had one you'd like me more.

(I don't really have this cat.)

I'm sort of starting to like the idea of having a cat though, so after I get this blog post off the ground I'm going to launch a new Kickstarter page to help me get one. Your life would obviously be greatly improved by my having a domesticated feline, and I figure I can get a comprehensive cat ownership plan up and running for not more than 75 grand.

Thanks for your support,

--Wildcat Rock Machine

Sure, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Why, the nerve of this guy!" Trust me, I can relate. I mean, why would you give some guy $50,000 to create a blog post when you could give some other guy $50,000 to make a glove that flashes turn signals?

He may not have a cat, but he does have the technological know-how to transform your wildest turn-signaling dreams into reality:


He can also control your thoughts, and once we've all been duped into wearing his insidious device he will use it to turn humankind into an army of drones and order us to lay waste to the Earth:

If you don't believe me, watch the video again. At exactly 1:51, the following subliminal image appears:

Thus satisfying my personal criteria for supervillainy:

By the way, Gerard Vroomen of Cervelo also scores two out of three:

The second I see a lizard pop up in a Cervelo commercial I'm summoning his arch-nemesis, the Clean Bottle doofus, who will imprison Vroomen in his redundantly-capped Bidon of Justice:

(Jens Voigt realizing he actually has the second-worst job in cycling.)

I wonder if the Clean Bottle will also get his own Tour blog on Bicycling.com next year.

Speaking of heroes and villains, one of America's biggest bike dork heroes is Congressman Earl Blumenauer--who, a number of readers inform me, made quite a stir in the UK when he wore a bike pin on the BBC:

When asked about it, Blumenauer declared himself "aggressively 'bike partisan:'"

Even Jeremy Paxman couldn't resist, ending the interview with the query: "Can I just ask you, Mr Blumenauer, what is that extraordinary green bicycle on your lapel?"

"Well, I am aggressively 'bike partisan'," replied Blumenauer, "and this is the congressional bike caucus membership pin."

Sadly, this admission will probably spell the end of his political career in the United States, where the average person thinks a "bike partisan" is someone who's romantically attracted to both males and females.

Of course, when it comes to romance, there's no better way to woo your partner than with a bottle of wine you've "portaged" by means of a leather holder mounted on your top tube. I've briefly mentioned this product before, but I had not seen the promotional video, which was forwarded to me by a reader:

Besides the fact that he could have just saved himself a bunch of time by throwing the bottle into his bag, I also noticed the gratuitous insertion of this leather popular smart phone holder:

Clearly when it comes to superfluous leather this guy is nothing less than a genius, and I wonder what it must be like to be unable to look at anything without envisioning a leather holder for it. Is it a blessing or a curse? He's like the John Nash of tchotchkes.

But while humankind has been making stuff out of leather for millennia, it's only recently that we've unleashed the seemingly limitless potential of carbon--or, if you prefer, "crabon." Already though a new miracle material is on the horizon, and it is called "cabon:"

(Via Chris from Electra Bikes)

Presumably, engineers at 3T have figured out how to remove the "r" from carbon/crabon for weight savings while retaining the material's lateral stiffness, vertical compliance, and superior wallet-emptying capability.

Of course, even the finest cabon steed is useless if you don't have a flashy wardrobe to match, and what better way to garner covetous looks from your fellow Freds than with a genuine disembodied hand jersey?

(Via Wheel and Sprocket)

Complete with Renaissance-era male genitalway:


If glove indicator light guy could figure out how to incorporate a directional signal into that jersey somehow I think he'd really be onto something.

Data Wranglers: Fred Fight at the Flat Bar Corral

In the 17 years that I've been "curating" this blog, I've witnessed many things I never thought would come to pass. I've seen "fixies" sold at Walmart. I've seen Letle Viride play his first gig since 1969, when he took that bad acid and locked himself inside a port-a-potty for 46 hours. And now, I've seen Cadel Evans win the Tour de France.

Like most cycling fans, when I woke up this morning I thought I'd merely dreamed Evans's victory. However, once I hit the bathroom and opened the newspaper I realized that my dream was actually reality:


I found the entire article quite moving, but perhaps no line was more evocative than this one:

“It was really amazing to see him grit his teeth and just keep coming,” Jeffrey said.

Wow. Jeffrey must have been watching the uncensored European coverage, because here in America we didn't get to see that on Versus. Then again, we're a prudish culture. Sure, we did get the "Big George After Dark" special, but it was on pay-per-view and you had to be over 18 to order:

("Big George II: What The Bernie Saw")

For my part, I'd just like to set modesty aside for a moment and point out that: 1) Yesterday I filed the very first 2012 Tour de France preview (suck on that, "legitimate" journalists); and 2) I called the Cadel Evans victory way back on Stage 4:

Oh, how they laughed when Bicycling.com com filed my posts under "Expert Analysis"--and nobody harder than me, since calling me an "expert" on professional cycling is like calling Jerry Seinfeld an expert on aviation because he made a bunch of airline jokes. Moreover, being an "expert analyst" on Bicycling.com is arguably like being the sommelier at the Olive Garden anyway. Nevertheless, I feel I've now earned my expert stripes, and emboldened by my own sagacity I'm going to go ahead and predict that Cadel Evans will become Prime Minister of Australia within the next 10 years.

Sure, it may seem far-fetched, but when those bushy eyebrows are staring back at you from the Australian $17 bill (Evans's first act as Prime Minister will be to introduce a $17 bill and put his face on it) remember where you read it first.

Also, next time you're at the Olive Garden, may I recommend the Boone's Farm. It goes good with everything.

Speaking of the Tour de France, if you were watching yesterday's stage on Versus (the Olive Garden of sports networks) you might have seen this commercial, to which I was alerted by an esteemed reader:

In it, two Freds drift into town like tumbleweeds who shop at Performance and roll up to the local watering hole. One of them is on a flat bar bike, and the other on a bike with like those curly-type handlebars that they use in the Tour de France:

After securing their dorkcycles to the hitchin' post, they begin comparing units surreptitiously, like two businessmen at a urinal:

Flat Bar Fred has the new iBike Dash from iBike, and we can see from his easy-to-read and simple-to-navigate display that he's ridden eight (8) whole miles:

This is the expression a Fred with a flat bar bike makes when he sees he just cranked out eight freaking miles:

("Uh, can you say, 'Killin' it?'")

Meanwhile, Drop Bar Fred has some stupid old-fashioned computer like the kind the Amish people use on their buggies:

We don't see how many miles he's cranked out, since his display is miniscule and almost impossible to navigate. However, we do see that he wears a look of consternation, like a man who's having trouble in the bedroom:

("This never happens, I swear!")

Then we go back to the Flat Bar Fred, who has a full-on data boner. We can see his speed, distance, time, and even power:

Note that Flat Bar Fred has attained a maximum speed of 25.9mph, which is more than half the speed at which a Fred goes, "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!"

Presumably then, the Flat Bar Fred has not gone, "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" However, given his self-satisfied demeanor, we can infer that 7.9 miles and 25.9mph are the exact distance and speed at which a Fred becomes unbearably smug. We can also draw the following conclusions about the Fred-iverse:

1) Flat bar road bikes are the new drop bar road bikes;

2) "Decades" are the new century;

3) No ride is too slow, too short, or too pathetic to share and immortalize in digital form.

Of course, any true retrogrouch would scoff at the notion of using a smartphone as a cycling computer. If you like your rims boxy, your frames lugged, and your shifting friction, then you also surely use the age-old practice of "chamois divination."

Soothsayers of old used to tell the future by examining sheep's entrails. Similarly, the retrogrouch can ascertain every detail of a ride by studying the appearance, odor, and residue inside a pair of cycling shorts. Speed, distance, power...the well-calibrated nose can tell all of these things from a single whiff of a post-ride chamois. Even today, an experienced European soigneur is more accurate than the most sophisticated computer, smart phone, or power meter. Allen Lim may make his riders swallow thermometers, but his wizened Belgian counterparts are able to base entire training programs on taintal funk.

Nevertheless, Freds continue to adorn their cockpits with instrumentation that would be more than sufficient to pilot an aircraft--and speaking of aircraft, another reader tells me that, while David Byrne may not own a car, he does travel by helicopter:

Evidently, Byrne has forgotten a fundamental Law of Smugness, which is that you don't get to brag about not driving when you travel by helicopter. Jets, helicopters, boats, tour buses--sure, those are all fine, just as long as you don't ever hop in a Honda Civic. Of course, he did take a bike ride after the helicopter trip, so I guess it cancels out. Still, taking a helicopter to the ride makes the mountain biker who drives three miles to the trailhead seem like a food coop volunteer in comparison.

Lastly, here's a helicopter-inspired cockpit that was spotted by a reader:


I think this should have been included in the iBike Dash commercial. It would have given them both cockpit envy.

Neat Tricks: Quick! Somebody Boot That Pigeon!

According to a commenter yesterday, this is my one thousandth post. I have no idea if this is true, because I haven't ever bothered to count. My guess is the commenter is wrong, since I'd be shocked if he or she actually counted these two--which, I suppose, would put the tally at 1,003.

Either way, the sheer volume of posts I've "curated" since launching this blog in 1996 surprises even me. It also depresses me, since I'm still not making enough money. That's why I've decided to drop this whole blogging thing like a Cat 5 on a moderate incline and go into advertising instead. I've already got an awesome concept for a commercial (or, as we call it in the industry, a "spot"), too, and I'm hoping the pitch will land me a high-paying job in a modern office space with a progressive collaborate cubicle-free layout where you get to wear $75 t-shirts everyday instead of $75 button-downs. I'm confident you could use this commercial to sell pretty much anything, but just for the hell of it let's say we're selling light beer.

OK, here goes. First a guy in really tight pants walks out of a modern office space--but not so modern that he gets to wear $75 t-shirts. We don't want to alienate anybody. Anyway, you know the type: sport jacket, designer satchel, vaguely douchey... The sort of guy who lives in a condo that looks exactly like his workplace, has an artisanal axe hanging over his giant TV, owns an unridden snowboard, and calls his friends "duder:"

At first, it's like any other day, and he's about to get into his imported sports sedan with the roof rack he doesn't know how to use and drive the two miles home before meeting the "duders" at the wine bar to spend some more of that disposable income:

But then, he has a crazy idea. "I'm no stuffed shirt. I'm an edgy sort of duder who's not afraid to shake things up," he thinks mischievously to himself. "How 'bout I totally shake the shit outta this day by riding a bike instead?"

We're going to need a guy who can act, by the way, 'cause he's going to have to look like he's just caught a glimpse of a hot co-worker's vagina.

Then--and this is where we're going to have to use some expensive special effects, but it will totally be worth it--he actually replaces his car with a bike with the swipe of a finger, just as easily as he switches from Vampire Weekend to Band of Horses on his iPad/Pod/Pud:


Oh, also, it should be a really awesome bike. I don't know a lot about bikes, but I did do some research on Forbes.com, so it should probably be something custom:

Yeah, just like that.

Next, he's on his awesome custom bike wearing a helmet from 1986, and as he zig-zags all over the street like a sprinter cracking on a climb he looks over his shoulder triumphantly like Lance Armstrong flashing Jan Ullrich "The Look:"

Except, unlike Lance Armstrong, he's not dropping anybody. Instead, it's because he's now realizing he hasn't ridden a bike since he was 14 and he's reasonably sure he's going to die.

Oh, and for the music, we should get somebody who rawks to write it, but I did come up with some heavy lyrics:

C'mon...

Yeeeah, c'mon...

C'maaaooowwwn!!!

Of course, no sooner had I fleshed out my idea than I discovered that somebody stole it, because it turns out a commercial suspiciously like it has been in heavy rotation during the Tour de France on Versus. Speaking of the Tour de France, today's stage will surely go down in the cycling history as one of the most epic Tour stages of all of 2011. If you've been trying to avoid seeing the results, you can read on with confidence, because I have no intention of revealing them. I have another blog over at Bicycling.com for that (updated precisely just as soon as I feel like it new post here, get excited), which means I have no reason to issue one of these:

Anyway, even though someone stole it from me, I'm hoping my beer commercial concept gets me some work. Then, maybe I can even come up with ads for companies that make bike stuff. Let's say, for example, that a tire company asked me to create an ad campaign for them. Well, I'm enough of a sophisticated ad man to know that I shouldn't pitch them something like this:

(Puncture-Resistant Tire+Ironic Nail Placement=Tirony)

The above photo was forwarded to me by a very unlucky reader, and of course my first thought was that he could boot it like that guy from the "Triple Rush" video:

(Person living hand-to-mouth using our nation's flagging currency to repair tire=Tirony)

This in turn led me to wonder if there were any new "Triple Rush" videos featuring handy tricks. Well, it turns out there are. In fact, there was a video in which one of the messengers explains how to make a pigeon diaper out of a maxi-pad:

Not only that, but as you can see, he's finished the maxi-pad pigeon diaper in a delightful pirate skull-and-crossbonesway.

If the producers of "Triple Rush" are still wondering why the show got cancelled, it could have something to do with the narrative detours into the bizarre world of bird-diapering. I thought the world of bicycle messengering was supposed to be a non-stop thrill ride. A man who lives in a home full of pigeons wearing diapers and dressed as pirates is the sort of thing I'd expect to find on Animal Planet at like 3:00am.

This is not to say I wouldn't watch the crazy diaper pirate pigeon man show. I mean, I probably wouldn't stay up until 3:00am, but I'd almost certainly DVR it--especially if the guy who lived with the pigeons also rode around in this, which was forwarded to me by a reader:
I smell a "Triple Rush" spinoff--and maybe a hint of pigeon feces.

By the way, if you ever need to diaper a pigeon in an emergency and you don't have any maxi-pads, there's a neat trick you can do with a dollar bill, and hopefully that's the subject of the next "Triple Rush" video.

Lastly, a reader in Philadelphia has spotted an Ikea bike in the wild, complete with backwards fork:

Saw this in center city Philly today. Looks like the classic reverse fork set up for a combination of speed, handling and flat box load portaging.

I'm imagining a home full of improperly-assembled sensible furniture.