Can You Hold It?

Do you really need to blow your nose right now?

Chris Froome probably wishes he'd asked himself that question--and, more important, answered it with a firm "No!"

For unexplained reasons, he blew his nose during the time trial of the Criterium du Daphine last week.  He may have breathed (That's the first time I've ever used that verb in the conditional present perfect tense) easier, but only for a brief moment.  A very brief moment.

He crashed.  That left him with a fractured femur, elbow, neck and ribs and with two liters less blood than he had before he blew his nose.



The result:  Not only was he out of commission after the fourth stage of the race; he has also forefitted much of the remaining season.  At any rate, he won't get to ride in the Tour de France, which he's won four times.

That, of course, has led to more than a few conspiracy theories.  After all, the record for TdF victories is five.  And the four cyclists who share the record are Continentals: Eddy Mercx is Belgian, Miguel Indurain is Basque/Spanish and Bernard Hinault and Jacques Anquetil are French.

I mean, how would that look if a Brit entered that lofty company--just as his country was pulling out of the European Union.

Hmm...Could some anti-Brexiteer have dusted the air in front of him?

(I confess! ;-)

No Matter What He Says, The Earth Isn't Flat!

Is she opining?  Or is she just whining?

That's a fair question to ask, sometimes. I am sure that I blurred, or even crossed, whatever line separates reasoned evaluation from mere complaint.

That line exists somewhere between recalling what was and lamenting that they aren't what they used to be.  I will attempt to straddle the line but will probably cross it with what I'm about to say.

Time was when being a celebrity meant being a kind of model for the public.  People--especially kids--listened to what they said and tried to emulate them; public figures acted accordingly.  Most of the time, anyway.  Today, though, it seems that being a celebrity is just a license to wear your silliness or stupidity--or display your vitriol--on your sleeve.  Or, as the folks in psychology might say, it gives you permission to live by your id.

During an election season that led to the coronation of hominem qui calumniatur, all some people could talk about was someone who got famous for being famous getting robbed of more than some developing countries own.  It is no wonder, then, that a celebrity who, not so long ago, would have been considered a world-class buffoon is considered to be a harmless side-show, or a cartoon cariacture, for embracing a notion that not even illiterates have espoused in half a millenium.

That notion is that the earth is flat.  And the celebrity who declared it to be a truth is none other than Shaquille O'Neal.

Now, just as El Presidente and Mrs. Kanye West (and, for that matter, Kanye West himself) have stayed in the public eye by being stupid, vulgar or, at times, simply gross, Shaquille's schtick, if you will, is his goofiness.  Even so, his declaration that our blue and green orb is shaped like a flapjack was even more ridiculous than anything else he's done.

From The Human Cyclist

To be fair, today "Shaq" walked back his absurd pronouncement.  Also, in the interests of fairness, I should point out that he is not the only one "who should have known better" but nonetheless made such a crazy declaration. There is, after all, a worldwide organization for those who still believe the notion that The Tall One embraced for three days.

Now, of course, as cyclists, we didn't need Columbus getting lost or photographs from space to prove to us the Earth isn't flat.  Some days, it seems as if we're always pedaling uphill!

A Bike For The Zombie Apocalypse

Emergency preparedness makes sense.  All you need to know are which emergencies you need to prepare for and how to go about preparing.

Now, I'm not going to give you advice about either. I can no more predict what sorts of emergencies or disasters are likely to happen than I can turn carbon fiber into gold.  But, apparently, there are folks who make their living (or at least a pretty good supplemental income) of telling people what disaster is most likely to strike and how to prepare for it. Some think that the disaster will be the result of a war with China or some coalition of Islamic fundamentalists.    Others think that the next economic crash will trigger a breakdown in the social order.  Still others think the cataclysm will be natural, such as solar flares or climate change. 

(For what it's worth, I'd probably pick climate change, which might in turn cause societal breakdowns, which in turn could lead to wars.  But, as I said, I have absolutely no predictive powers.)

One thing I find interesting is that nearly all survivalists, however they think the apocalypse will come, believe that a bicycle is an important part of any "survival tool kit".  That makes sense when you realize that bikes will be among the few ways we'll be able to get around if fuel supplies or their distribution networks are destroyed.  But, of course, if the world comes to an end, the bike shops won't be open and, I imagine, online retailers won't be able to do business.   So I've begun to stock tires, tubes, cables, lubes and, yes, even a spare Brooks Pro along with the crates of canned food, bottled water and cases of wine. ;-)

Seriously, though:  Bicycles will be useful, but not only as transportation.  They can also help you defend against marauding packs of thugs--and zombies.

Yes, there is a bike designed to defend against zombies:

It's actually a pretty clever design, as the motor powers the front wheel as well as the chainsaw. So, I imagine, one could rev the bike up to a pretty decent speed, whether for attacking or defending.  Now as to how effective the chainsaw would be against attacking zombies...I dunno.

As for rigging one up or actually using it, all I can say is "Don't try this at home."  That is, if you still have a home when the zombies take over. 

Kneecapped by Walmart?

It's a conspiracy, I tell ya.  The other night, my flight from Atlanta was delayed by almost three hours.  So I got home late Monday night and didn't feel like doing much of anything. (When I go to my parents', I usually fly to Atlanta, then to one of the NY Metro area airports.)  

Then, last night, I didn't have any internet connection.


Ya no, I got to thinkin' that Sam Wall himself was behind everything.  Mr. Wall, I'm sorry about all of those terrible things I said about your fine retail establishment.  I will never, ever use the name "Wal-Mart" in the perjorative, ever again.  Yes, I promise (as I use Catholic school birth control, a.k.a., I cross my fingers).


So now you think I'm a conspiracy theorist.  Well, not really.  I haven't said anything bad about Obama since he showed his birth certificate.  (All right, I never was a "birther.")  But sometimes I think certain people-- e.g., certain retail plutocrats--have it in for me.  Or could it be that the gods of something are angry--or crazy?


And I haven't done any cycling since I got home.  Something's afoot, and it ain't my old Detto Pietro shoes with TA Anquetil cleats (the kind that nailed onto the sole).  

I know.  I'll get to ride again.  At my age, I should know that.  Still, I worry that I'll lose this spring, the way I lost most of last spring.  Well, not quite:  Last spring, I had infections and other illnesses.  At least this year, my excuses are Life and the weather.  (For a few moments just after noon, the sky grew ominously dark and  I thought we might see another tornado here in NYC.)


At least for the last couple of days I had memories of a couple of pleasant, if short, rides from my parents' house.