In a deviation from the norm, I’m leaving town for the second time in a week and in light of this, have to once again half ass my way through a post. Funny thing, because on one hand I am like that guy in the cinematic masterpiece ‘Real Genius’ that lives in the closet and never speaks with anyone, but on the other hand, occasionally I find myself in the throws of constant activity, which only makes me want to retreat into my closet further.
One thing I can guarantee I won’t be doing this weekend is attending the Sea Otter, Celebration of the Watchamacallit.. Um, Oh, that’s right.. A celebration of the bicycle.
As long as you pay no mind to the 25,000 motor vehicles that are gridlocked into said celebration, I suppose it is an apt title.
This will be the second or third Sea Otter in just about 15 years that I’ve not attended, and had I not just squirted my cocktail’s lime into my eye, I wouldn’t be shedding a tear for it.
The fact of the matter is, once the weather gets nice, a myriad of functions all fall around the same time as people warm up the grills, and put on their sun dresses for the first time since old man winter came in and sat his fat ass down on our heads. Missing out on any of it just wouldn’t do, so regardless of the fact that between now and Monday, I will have logged hundreds of miles on the road, a majority of which will be on a bicycle, I am committed to enjoying myself into exhaustion.
I suggest you do the same.
Now finally you might be wondering what the 1990 Lincoln Town Car and the young lady have to do with any of this, and to that I can simply say ‘not much at all’.
How about we get down to the mail bag before much time passes?
Here’s one from Ryan that I called “this is why I hate Florida”;
Dancing sure has changed since I was a kid.
Now while you’re sitting there thinking that you’ve just witnessed the best that the internet has to offer, I present you this round house, knock out blow sent to me from Intern A;
The deeper I dig, the better the offerings get. “How could this be, Stevil?” you just asked rhetorically.
Trust me. Gypsy The Punk speaks;
“I’m a hairy bastard. When I say, “hairy,” I mean HAIRY. Think fur. Pelt. Shiny wavy locks… All over my body.
I’m also a cyclist. That means that during short pants weather, I shave my legs. It also means that during long pants weather, I don’t.
Every April I break out the dog clippers and mow down the hedges that cover my lower anatomy during the cold winter months. Yesterday was hedge trimming day.
I took a picture.
I thought of you.
Punk rock is as punk rock does,
Why is it that when people find an extra twenty-spot in their pockets, or if you will, a suitcases full of diamonds discarded on the railroad tracks they don’t think of me?
I can only feel good about this assuming that in some part of the world, somewhere, sending someone a photo of a shorn pelt is the highest of complements.
Back to bicycle related nonsensery, All Hail The DPow! wrote in with some mother trucking goodness;
“Yo dude, hopefully your liver is back in action.
I certainly don’t spend too much time geeking out over new bike stuff, and even less time promoting other people’s brand, but I gotta tell you, the stuff that Joseph Ahearne is working on is completely rad, and I want people to know about it:
Anybody that makes a bike that can carry your grandma is a friend of mine.
In other news of news you could possibly use, Andy from Surly sent me a goodie box with some stuff to keep my stubs warm;
For those who would like to get your feet on some he included more information than you’d find in Steve Austin’s schematics;
“Both are made by Defeet. The short ones are Wooleators. They’re mostly merino (with some nylon and spandex for durability). They fit well and they perform well. Sizes S-XL (fitting up to around 11-12 sized feets.
In stock as we speak, waiting, patiently waiting. Like Willard in that Apocalypse Now movie: ” I’m here a week now… waiting for a mission… getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker, and every minute Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger. Each time I
looked around the walls moved in a little tighter.”
The tall socks are also merino wool. Extra padding around the foot, especially the sole, they go well with knicker-tights because they overlap. It’s like tights, but you can take either half off. Sizes S-XL. In stock now. They will be on our site soon, but I am half overworked and half slacking, so whatever, they’re not up yet. However, they will indeed be viewable soon and are available through your fine local bike monger, who no doubt will have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, so the part numbers they will need are: SK1120, SK1121, SK1122, and SK1123.”
Then he concluded with an invitation to his party;
I should mention that so far I’ve hung these off of every conceivable part of my body and so far they have passed every test with flying colors. You know, for a bunch of total douchebags, Surly does a really good job doing what they do, and I thank them for their support.
Alright suckers. I’m gonna wrap this up and get my show on the road. I will be making back into my closet in the wee hours of Monday morning, so it’s entirely possible that Monday’s post will be happening on Tuesday, so the first person who writes asking where Monday’s post is on Monday get’s a free punch in the stomach.
I will now leave you with some photos of the newest addition to my sorely abused Dirtbomb;
Not too shabby.
I would also like to mention that Mick Collins from the bike’s inspiration recently emailed us and had this to say about the bike;
“Hey man, sorry to take so long to reply. I love the bike, and I’m proud to be its namesake. My girlfriend just asked me to get her one for her birthday. 🙂
There ain’t one damn thing wrong with that, neither.
Have splendid weekends. and we will catch you when we do.