As a semi-professional bike blogger with a family and all the concomitant responsibilities, I can’t simply drop anything and ride whenever I want–but I do anyway, because fuck it:
Yes, today’s weather was simply too pleasant to squander on mundane matters such as “responsibilities”–and yes, I am wearing the Barry Wicks psychedelic clown shoes…
…AND the Barry Wicks artisanal hand-curated deerskin gloves, a sartorial choice that announces to the world that I no longer expect to be taken seriously on any level:
It really is quite liberating to look like a rolling Yehuda Moon cartoon. Throw in an expensive bike-specific flannel, a schmatta around the neck courtesy of Grant Petersen, and a liberal amount of facial hair, and I absolutely look like the sort of person who should be riding a Mudbunion Sowtwat:
By the way, I was incredibly proud of coming up with the name Mudbunion–but then on a whim I entered it into a popular search engine and, incredibly, it looks like the term may already have been coined by comedian Doug Stanhope. So I’ll need to consult with my lawyers, but it may be that I’ll have to re-brand the Mudbunion Sowtwat as the Brambletick Stallmucker.
With the sun shining, I was soon able to relegate my artisanal hand-curated deerskin gloves to my artisanal hand-curated Sackville Banana Sax, and I pedaled past what looks like the Berlin Wall, but really isn’t, and a piece of graffiti that looks like it was painted by Barry Wicks, but really wasn’t (at least as far as I know):
I’m no street art connoisseur, but I do appreciate the juxtaposition of the “Fuck The Government” piece and the “Funky Stuff” piece. The former is eminently pragmatic, and dispenses with any flourishes that don’t directly serve its message. (Save of course for the extra paint on the “k” to de-emphasize what appears to be a mistake, and of course the truncated penultimate and final characters in the word “government,” where the artist clearly ran out of room.) “Funky Stuff” on the other hand is bold and ebullient, and while far less topical and politically charged, as an unbridled celebration of stuff that is funky its message is no less vital; in fact it’s arguably more subversive, inasmuch as it is so delightfully out of step with the dire prognostications we’re subjected to on a daily basis.
Continuing on to the village of Tarrytown, I debated riding over the
Tappan Zee Mario Cuomo Bridge, but instead continued on to the reservoir, where I attempted to appreciate my bicycle without being distracted by the view:
As a huge bike dork I fully intend to continue acquiring bicycles (including frivolous and impractical ones, because what’s emptier than a life bereft of frivolity?), but in terms of comfort, quality, aesthetics, and sheer versatility this is easily the best bicycle I’ve ever owned.
Incredibly, there’s still snow up in Westchester, and I didn’t feel like heading home the same way I headed up:
So after several detours I ended up heading south on Route 9A, which I never ride, and which kinda sucks.
Still, it could have been worse–I could have been, you know, doing work or something.
Finally, Phil Gaimon officially launched a new video channel today:
And check out the list of correspondents:
I don’t want to spoil it for you, but let’s just say I’ll be focusing exclusively on cooking videos.
Oh, and one more self-promotional thing:
At that price you won’t even feel pressured to read it!