Before I forget...

There's a new post over on the Examiner too. It, um, seems to be about bicycle racing, Eddy Merckx, and the grotesque traditions revolving around cannibalism which are practiced in some racing organizations. You know who you are.

And I had to go to Dr. Wally for some information, too.

I'm a bad, bad man.

Anti-cyclist petition in Iowa

There's a lovely bit of rural bigotry cunningly disguised as a petition to ban cyclists from farm-to-market roads - essentially all county roads - in the state of Iowa. It's includes this slightly over blown prose:

Over the past ten years the number of bicyclists using these farm-to-market roads for recreational purposes has increased dramatically as have the number of preventable accidents and fatalities.

Rural commerce and citizens are significantly impacted when forced to share the farm-to-market roadways with bicyclists. Because of the growth of today's commerce and agricultural business, shared roadways are no longer safe or practical in today's society.

Gosh, the cows must be feasting on all those dead bodies. Nationally, the number of cycling deaths has been trending downward, though a slight uptick last year gave some of the busy bodies an opportunity to hyperventilate. I'd expect that Iowa is trending downward too.

So, absent a high body count, amputated limbs, heads lolling in the gutter, and the like, I think it's safe to say that the petition language is, um, suitable for spreading on Iowa's lush, green corn fields thereby making them lusher and greener.

It's a non-starter, folks.

A thank you to Fritz

Fritz mentioned CycleDog again over on Cyclelicious. He said:

"CycleDog has been writing a series of "Why do they do that?" articles for the online Examiner in which he tries to bridge the gap by explaining to a motoring audience why cyclists do certain things."

He's a pal. The Examiner pieces aren't here. They're on the Examiner. Duh. It's that big button over to the right. I'm trying to do one "Why do they do that?" each week, and they should be out on Mondays. Wednesday is supposed to be a Cycling 101 informational piece. I got them mixed up this week. Dummy me.

Anyway, as I've said before, there's not a one of us as smart as all of us put together, so feel free to point out the stuff I've missed. Also, if you feel strongly about certain aspects of bicycling, like my complete avoidance of something near and dear to your heart, just send an email via the link here on CycleDog, or put something in comments. Either way, it reaches me.

But please, no questions about relationships, dating, love lives, or long missives begging me to explain what women want, how they think, or why it is that we simply cannot understand one another. I am not qualified to answer as I've only been married to the same woman for over 20 years and I still do not understand her. I merely accept what comes. It's much like trying to understand tomorrow's weather. It is what it is, and all my intellectual gyrations will not change it a whit.

Wally might answer, but I'd strongly caution any of you about taking his advice.

Tuesday musette

Wally Crankset - a great American

I was putzing around with this laptop earlier today, and decided to do a search for Wally Crankset stories. To my astonishment, I've written over 40 stories featuring Dr. Crankset! He's been mentioned a lot more times, but I found 40 stories. I'm going to scrape them together into a big pile and see what more can be done with them. That means re-reading and editing, and if I do any of it at work, my co-workers may wonder why I'm sitting at the bench laughing. Wally stories do that.

When it's done, I'll post it somewhere like Scribd.

Boston stolen bike plan

The city of Boston has a program to recover stolen bikes by using social media. First, you have to register your bike on the site. If it's stolen, you can report it there. Then notices go out via Twitter, Facebook, and email to subscribers including police, campus security forces, and bike shops. It sounds workable. STOLEN BIKES BOSTON

Civil disobedience at Colorado bicycle tour - NOT!

Henry David Thoreau on Wikipedia

Last month an anonymous (what else?) flier appeared in mailboxes along the route of the Sunrise Century in Boulder, Colorado. The flier urged area motorists to drive slowly and 'break down unexpectedly' in an effort to disrupt the charity ride. This was touted as "civil disobedience" aimed at protesting Colorado's new three-feet passing law which somehow undermined motorists rights.

Yes, motorists rights. Hmmmm. In all the reading I've done about cycling, including those sections of the motor vehicle code, there's little mention of an individual right unless it's coupled with a duty. That means while each of us have a right to use the public way, we also have a duty or an obligation to do so without endangering others. To the schoolyard bullies amongst us, that duty is conveniently ignored in preference to the 'right' to shove others out of the way.

Civil disobedience presupposes that those engaging in the deliberate violation of a law are doing so as a means of highlighting the injustice of that law. They stand in defiance and expect or sometimes even demand to be arrested for their actions. Obviously, that didn't happen in Colorado. No, our anonymous 'civil disobedience' protester wasn't about to spend any time in custody. He was merely trying to get others to do his mischief while he stayed safely unknown.

He's just another anonymous dick, not unlike the bumper crop of blooming idiots in the comments section of the Daily Camera article. I'll give them some credit, however, for the creative use of spelling and language, a kind of free-form approach that's refreshingly devoid of logic or critical thinking.

Oh, I did an Examiner post on this too, absent the sarcasm.

A nice cache of old cycling photos

I stumbled on this collection of old cycling photos, most of them Dutch and dating back to the 1920s. The one above is from England circa 1905. I like this guy's pose, casual yet focused. He looks to be the scorcher type.

The main page is HERE. The site seems to be devoted to classic old bikes, but unfortunately some of the pages are unavailable. Still, if you're a fan of old bicycles or old photographs, take a look.

Archer bicycle route

A group of local advocates is getting together later this afternoon to look at proposed changes to the city bicycle route presently aligned along Archer. There is some pressure to re-locate those pesky bicyclists off the arterial "for their own safety," of course, and it has nothing at all to do with gentrification and proposed angled parking. Nothing whatsoever. Never said it. Not gonna.

It's yet another exciting round of Whack-A-Mole!

New Examiner piece

Yep, it's Monday. Time for another "Why do they do that?" piece over on the Examiner. Today, it's an electrifying discussion of bicycle frame materials, and I'll sadly admit that I couldn't figure out a use for "Tubing or not tubing. That is the question" or "In nineteen hundred and sixty two, Columbus ruled the Giro, true."

Anyway, you can follow this LINK, or push that big button over on the right------------>

One other thing - my engineering specification was updated late on Friday afternoon. This is the technical manual for the aircraft computer that comprises the bulk of my work. It went from 5 volumes to 6. I spent most of the day poring over the changes. Now I have a headache and my eyes don't want to focus. Grumble, grumble.

A bit of fun

I just went to the Mafia Name Generator and returned with a newly-minted mafioso name - Shoot 'Em Up Tony! I love it!

And I suspect that Tony will be moving to Broken Elbow soon, perhaps in the witness protection program.

The wit and wisdom of Dr. Wally Crankset

Wally and I were at the bar in Larry's Cafe one night recently. We'd been there long enough that Larry had to field two calls from She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, who was wondering where we could be found. Larry can tell tall tales with the best of them, but he's a terrible liar. She-Who-etc. knew we were there and she grilled him mercilessly during that second call.

"Um, I'll have to shut you guys off after this one," he said. "I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

Wally and I understood. The part he was leaving out was the threat she'd made to call his wife and give her an earful too. Larry's a great guy and he didn't need that kind of grief, so we settled up and finished our drinks. We speculated that wives formed the first-ever union back in cave man days, and that led inevitably to things like agriculture and civilization. Otherwise, we'd still spend the bulk of our time grunting and chasing animals for food. Despite being a little boozy, we were aware that stuff rolls downhill and we were not at the top of the slope.

Time spent in Larry's is never wasted. I've learned many astonishing things while perched on a barstool, though to be honest, many of them are not suitable for a family discussion. I've learned of the best places for trout fishing by listening carefully to determine what those lyin' sacks of fishermen left out. Grouse hunters are the same. They never mention their favorite places, either, so rapt attention to detail is essential.

But I learned more from my best friend Wally than all the others combined, and it didn't take intelligence analysis worthy of the CIA. I'd just buy a couple of rounds.

When I got home that evening, I pulled a crumpled paper napkin out of my pocket. One corner was missing, torn off by Wally because a young woman had written her phone number on it. The rest of the napkin was covered with my cramped handwriting. I played James Boswell to Wally's Samuel Johnson.

In no particular order, here's what I learned that night:

"Unless you're e.e. cummings, learn how the caps key works. If you are e.e. cummings, the unfortunate news is that you're dead."

"The Dustbuster was originally intended for picking up rocks on the Apollo moon missions." Wally said this to an attractive young woman who probably hadn't been born when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. Of course, he insisted it was Neil Young who'd first stepped onto the lunar surface, but the sweet young thing missed that too.

"Ronald McDonald is a god in some primitive cultures and most of the southern states." I couldn't argue with this one.

"Many in Oklahoma are proud to be out of step with the rest of the nation, yet I'm proud to be out of step with the majority of Oklahomans."

"Franch dressing: Ranch dressing with a dash of ketchup." I had to make a face at this one, but I know people who would love it.

"I graduated from the University of Old Men." No argument there. We're both graduates.

"I keep meaning to get the senile citizens discount, but then I forget to ask."

"Integrity is admirable, but hypocrisy pays better."

"Them library police....they'll throw the book at you." Sweet Young Thing laughed very prettily at this one.

"...so men desperately need to have an all-consuming hobby like hunting, fishing, sports, or even bicycling in order to distract them from the ultimate reality. And that's the plain truth that no matter what we do in life, no matter what we achieve or the wealth we accumulate, at the end we all die. I'm tellin' ya, it's the fear of death that drives us, nothing else." This one prompted Sweet Young Thing to write her phone number on the napkin.

"Broken Elbow, Oklahoma, received Tin status from LAB's Bike Friendly City program." This is true, but I can't decide if it's more disparaging toward Broken Elbow or the League's awards program.

"He's been given the urine-soaked crotch of courage award." This was directed at another 'bicycle' advocate at the far end of the bar, a man Wally despises for his hypocrisy and fear mongering. They have a long-standing feud peppered with more acrimony than any of Wally's ex-wives. He never hesitates to make fun of the man, particularly by mangling his name.

"Dog Porn would want a bike lane up his..."

And this is where Larry cut us off. Perhaps it was just as well.

.

This just in

Photo from BRAIN

Bicycle Retailer and Industry News (BRAIN) has a story on a new business in Portland.

Cycle Dog, owned by Lanette Fidrych, is a relatively new company that makes dog leashes and collars out of old bike inner tubes. “I am an avid bicyclist, and along with that comes a lot of flat tires,” Fidrych said. “I felt is was wrong to throw these old tubes away, so I started thinking about what to do with them. I have two dogs and I never had enough leashes and collars. I started sewing these products for them, and found that my family and friends loved them.

MORE

I'd like to help him out by donating old inner tubes, but (ahem) I never get flat tires.

Actually, I think Fidrych is doing all of us a service by recycling our flats. How many times have you seen discarded tubes along the road after a big group tour goes through?

If my Springer Spaniel were still alive, I'd have to get one of these collars for her. Then there was this girl I knew who wore a dog collar to the horror of her roommates, but that's not something to discuss here.

He has a Cycle Dog account on Twitter, too. I hope we don't confuse people over the names. There's a distinct possibility that when I originally set up the CycleDog blog, I just left out that space due to my abysmal typing skills. So don't get confused - Cycle Dog for leashes and collars, CycleDog for satire, sarcasm, screaming rants, and the odd bit of sanity now and then.

Good luck, Lanette! If anyone strays in here looking for your products, I'll send them your way.

Traffic signals and stop signs

More breathtaking stuff over on the Examiner. Feel free to tear it apart! This time it's about signals and stop signs, and why some cyclists ignore them. I do not condone the common practice of running lights, though like most everyone else, I treat stop signs as yields.

And my thanks to Fritz for a little nudge.

I'm trying to post these informational pieces on Monday. Writing over there has forced me to adopt more structure, as in 'deadlines', in order to get things done. These are self-imposed and not set in concrete, but I think it's helping.

I just don't know what to say about this one

Photo from New York Daily News

I'm all for discounted services for cyclists, but I'm thinking that some are more, um, practical than others. Discounted food, drinks, and bike parts would be nice. I'm not so sure about this one, though that's not because I have a Puritanical view. It's simple self-preservation. I taught She-Who-Must-Be- Obeyed how to shoot, and she's good at it when she has the Ruger 1022 in her hands.

If you walk in the door with a bicycle pump along with a couple of spare tubes, you may get some wary looks - or maybe not. I know nothing about the etiquette of such things.

From Reuters:

Take off your bicycle helmet, big boy!

BERLIN (Reuters) - A Berlin brothel has come up with a novel way to negate the impact of the global economic crisis and target a new group of customers at the same time -- offering a discount to patrons who arrive on bicycles.

"The recession has hit our industry hard," said Thomas Goetz, owner of the "Maison d'envie" brothel.

MORE from Reuters

More from New York Daily News

Wanna drive your kids crazy?

Here's a simple hearing test for ultrasonic ring tones. My hearing is badly degraded from all those guns, motorcycles, and obnoxiously loud rock concerts, but according to this website, I probably can't remember being a teenager anyway.

The really fun part was playing with the tones I can't hear. Number One Daughter bounced down the hallway to complain - loudly - that I was driving her crazy. The very best part is that her mother can't hear this either and had no idea what she was talking about!

Apparently you can download these to your PC or phone. If you do (and I'm thinking specifically of you, George) don't use them for evil.

Yeah, right.

I should be ashamed

Back in May, I wrote something explaining why I'm not on Twitter. And I was honest in that my days cover the same routine. How could that possibly be interesting?

As most of you know, I began writing for the Examiner back in April. I started posting brief links to the Examiner pieces on Facebook. I thought the whole thing pointless because most of the people I know on Facebook are regulars here on CycleDog, and for the most part, they have their own blogs. I wasn't using Facebook to accumulate more friends.

Something strange happened. When I posted a link to an Examiner piece, page views over there spiked. And the numbers were greater than the number of people in my contact list. I don't know why that happened, but I'll take it. If someone has an explanation, I'd be happy to hear it. If Facebook helps reach more people with the bicycling education message, it's a very good thing.

So that brings us back to the whole idea of using Twitter in a similar vein. Yes, that means I've set up a CycleDog account on Twitter, too. Now I have to figure out how to use it.

When I broached this idea to my best friend, Dr. Wally, he called me an idiot. Actually, he said, "Twitter away ya twit!" Sure, I'm way behind the curve as far as technology is concerned, but Wally hasn't given up Morse code for a cellphone yet.

May God have mercy on his soul...

...'cause this boy deserves to burn in Hell.

From a local sale ad:



72 Paramount road racing bike with original components and manual. It is missing a few of the components, but they can be found elsewhere. Bike was repainted and converted to a fixie. Orig components are Campy/Weineman combo. Frame is large size @ 64cm. I'm 6'3" and can just stand over the top tube. This frame was handmade at waterford, I believe it's reynolds 753 tubing and it does have the chrome nurvex lug work.

$500 firm.

Yep, a bike boom Paramount with chromed Nervex lugs. Wanna bet this is a rattle-can paint job too?

Oh, here's his car:


....and here's his girlfriend. She's reached a higher level than him in World of Warcraft:


I'm going out to the garage to scream now.

Deadline? What deadline?

Who was it that said, "I love deadlines, especially the whooshing sound they make as they rush by"?

I'm a tired puppy. I plugged away at the Examiner piece on bicycle tires. It began as a list of ideas about a week ago, and I slowly fleshed it out a little at a time. But as always, I had a wealth of interruptions.

Number One Son bought a car. Talk about whooshing sounds. He's been jetting in and out of my room pestering me endlessly about getting another car. His Supra blew up about 8 months ago. We made the rounds of the car lots and I scoured ads on bulletin boards, talked with co-workers, and scanned the roadsides looking for bargains.

We settled on a 2004 Pontiac Grand Prix. It was the best of the lot in his price range. It's very much the same as my 2007 Grand Prix, so we'll learn from both.

But that wasn't the hard part. The hard part was dealing with the insurance agent this afternoon. I think I'd rather visit the dentist.

I don't expect to see Number One Son again this evening. He and his new car zoomed out of here as soon as we arrived at home.

Like I said, I'm tired. My back hurts. My neck hurts. I'm all for a shower and an early bedtime. Instead, I'll have something to drink and I'll turn on the police scanner out in the kitchen. Teenager + New Car = Possible Trouble.

What's happening in that there France race? And how's that young Armstrong fella doing?

Wednesday Musette

Seriously, this has taken two days to write. I've have a plethora of interruptions. I gave myself a deadline of tonight to complete this post, and I'm facing another one tomorrow.

Chuck's memorial service

I have to say this. You don't often hear Lynrd Skynrd at a memorial service.

I went to Chuck's funeral service yesterday, feeling distinctly over-dressed in a shirt and tie. His friends - all of them Harley riders - turned out in black t-shirts with the HD logo prominently displayed. They took the 'celebrate his life' to heart, and celebrate they did.

There were equal parts of laughter and tears. Chuck would have been highly amused. It reminded me of something my mother-in-law said after the death of her husband. "The shell is here but the nut is gone!"

Bon voyage, Chuck.


Comments

This exchange took place after I'd been feeling puny a few weeks ago. Lemme tell ya sumthin....

Yokota Fritz left a comment:

I'm glad you're better. I was feeling pretty rough over the weekend too and I've spent the beginning of this week with no energy. Hopefully this too shall pass.

Tejvan Pettinger left a comment:

M.Indurain was asked his worst moment in pro cycling. He said it was riding behind T.Rominger when he had the attack of the runs..

Glad you feel better :)

That brings up some very uncomfortable images!

Recently, I read of some hapless domestique who had to hold a cycling cap as his team captain relieved himself into it. All this while riding in the middle of the peleton. These are the things they don't show on television. Somehow, the role of domestique just lost much of its glamour.


....................

The Donut Guy said...

Oh my.

I'll be bit torrenting all my TdF coverage this year.

I'll be a day behind but I won't have to watch endless commercials.

Did they mention anything about Lance yet?:-)

Some people just can't help themselves when it comes to being a wise guy! And maybe, just maybe, you should 'splain the bit torrent stuff for those of us in the technological dark ages - like me. It would make a good post on your blog. Hint, hint.

............................

Kristina left a new comment on "The shogun (OT)":

Hi, I really like your blog, and would like to include it in my diploma paper in Discourse Analysis. I would really appreciate it if you could take a couple of minutes to take part in the research, so if you're interested please visit my blog.

Yes, of course I'm a sucker for a pretty girl. Guys are hard-wired that way. Then I read this on Boing Boing:

Computer scientists at Carnegie Mellon University have figured out how to predict Social Security numbers from publicly accessible birth data with frightening accuracy. The researchers analyzed a public information source known as the "Death Master File," which includes birth data and SSNs for people who have died. The scientists found that in many instances, if you know the date and state in which a person was born, you can deduce their SSN.

Sorry, Kristina, but I probably won't be participating. I'm just paranoid that way.
......................

On Cool Old Bike, I wrote about a beautiful old racing bike down at Tom's Bicycles.

Blogger The Donut Guy said...

Are you serious?...Buy it and ride the crap out of it.

Seriously, if I had that much money to throw around ( I don't) I'd probably buy it and hang it on a wall- it *is* art:-)

Blogger Yokota Fritz said...

I'm with Donut -- it's been lying fallow for who knows how long, it deserves to get outdoors now.

But wow, it sure is shiny looking.

Guys, I taught Mary to shoot, remember? And I always fall asleep before she does. That makes me an easy target. She's already trying to kill me a forkful at a time - with my enthusiastic help - so don't make it worse. Tonight's poison was oven-fried chicken, mashed potatoes with real gravy, corn, stuffing, and and fresh-baked rolls. I'm tellin' ya, the woman has it in for me!

.........

OK, that's all for now. Tomorrow's deadline (for those of you who've fought all the way down here to the end) is for an Examiner piece on (gasp!) bicycle tires. I know, I know. The excitement is almost underwhelming, but we'll soldier on.

Thanks for reading!

New Examiner post

I'm doing a series over on the Examiner titled "Why do they do that?" It's meant as an educational effort for both cyclists and motorists, explaining common bicycling practices. This actually started here on CycleDog when someone asked about frame materials in a comment. That got me thinking about things we take for granted, but may look inexplicable to someone unacquainted with cycling.

So....if there's something any of you feel I should add (and Fritz has already made some suggestions on Facebook) feel free to comment here or use the email link. Alternatively, you can click on the Examiner link and comment over there. Either way, it will reach me.

Now, it's been a very busy day and I have lots more to write, but it's getting late and I've been up since 4AM. Long day. It will have to wait until tomorrow.

An apology

I haven't looked in my spam folder for a while. When I opened it today, there were about a dozen emails forwarded from the comments section here on CycleDog. So I'm apologizing to those of you whose comments I did not see. I'll read through them and put responses - if required - here on the main page.

G-mail diverted these to my spam folder, like I said, and the contents of that folder are, um, unusual. That's a polite way to put it, anyway. There's well over a thousand messages. Some are listed below because it's a quick and easy post. Yes, I'm fundamentally lazy.

A sampling:

Think You Know Much About "Intimacy"?

Yes, I do. And it's unlikely I'll learn more from your e-mail.

More bankers commit suicide

We can only hope.

Give her much more pleasure than she expects from you.

She's gonna out-live me. That should be pleasure enough.

Shower her with bedroom moments she won't forget

We have two kids. It's unlikely she'll forget how they came to be here.

Be hot long action king

Listen, at my age, “long hot action” involves spicy food.

Girls best friend ? Viagra pink!

And here I was thinking it was diamonds.

Become perpetuum mobile of love heedlessness semipellucid

Why does this sound like Umberto Eco talking dirty?

Get real mammoth in pants

Mammoths are extinct. What are you implying?

Become her master, he, whose rod can show her where heaven is.

You know, I kinda like this one as a new name – He-whose-rod-points-to-Heaven – or some such.

Get your hair problems fixed with Rogaine.

Have you seen my hair?

Why lie? I need money.

Ah. Refreshing honesty.

And you does feel badly? It is not needed to take a recipe!

Good. I wasn't planning on taking a recipe.

Well, that was fun. Now I can go empty that folder.

Happy Fourth of July!

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Sorry, I've been watching the Tour de France coverage on Versus and I seem to have something stuck in my head.

lancearmstronglancearmstronglancearmstronglancearmstronglancearmstronglancearmstrong
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And a happy Fourth of July to all of you, even those outside the United States. Sure, it may not be a holiday where you are, but have a happy weekend anyway. This holiday honors the American Revolution where we threw off the colonial yoke and the despotic rule of the British, substituting the despotic rule of the wealthy, the insurance companies, the religious right, and other assorted nutjob organizations. We enshrined individual rights in our Constitution, showing the high value we place on individual ethics and conscience, provided they do as they're told, don't get out of line, and especially don't muck about in traffic like all those pesky cyclists.

Friday morning

I took a vacation day. Combined with our holiday on Monday, that means I get a four day weekend. The week dragged by and yesterday seemed endless. I was really looking forward to an extra day off.

As usual, I woke just before dawn. It's one of those dubious perks of getting older. I wake up at about the same time regardless of the alarm clock. As I went into the bathroom, lights flashed through the bedroom window. It was probably just a thunderstorm out on the horizon, or so I thought.

When I looked out the window, there were three police cars and an ambulance in the street outside. I went out to the living room and opened the front door, only to see cops going in and out of a neighbor's house. This too is not unusual, as they've had domestic disputes before, and the police have had to sort them out.

The ambulance pulled away. I went back inside to turn on the scanner. Within a few minutes, the supervisor called for the medical examiner. I went to the bedroom to get dressed, then went outside to talk to the cops.

My neighbor Chuck was dead. His wife found him at 4:30 on the kitchen floor. He was overweight and a former smoker. He was on disability due to injuries from construction work. Chuck was a bit rough around the edges and clearly not an educated guy, but he deeply loved his wife and sons. That was readily apparent to anyone.

Back when Mary and I went through a rough patch just before Christmas a few years ago, Chuck and Kim simply gave us some cash to buy presents for the kids. Even now, if I think about it too much, it brings tears to my eyes. He was a generous, open-hearted guy and he will be greatly missed.

Later today the street will be jammed with cars as family and friends arrive. It's pretty full out there already. We'll probably be cooking like mad trying to feed people. Knowing Mary, she'll work too hard and too long trying to care for Kim and her family. I'll have to keep a careful eye on her to see that she gets some rest.

One last thought and I have to go. Hug your spouse (or significant other). Hug your kids. Tell them you love them. Because we never know when we'll get to say that just one last time.