Now Why Didn't I Think Of That?

Hey, I found it!  The miracle cure!

For what?, you ask.

Cravings for drugs, alcohol, sex and Friends.

The cure is really, really simple--and you might even have it on your iPhone.

All right, I'll tell you what it is: playing Tetris.

I'm not kidding:  that is the conclusion of a research team.  According to their findings, "cognitive interference"  can be used to reduce cravings for substances and addictive behaviors.

Of course, a term like "cognitive interference" could only be coined by someone trying to get or keep a research grant (or by someone paid to explain how a celebrity ran over some unfortunate soul).  In plain English, it means "distraction":  Playing Tetris deflects your attention away from eating pizzas, drinking beer, making love or the "He's her lobster!" episode.

Believe it or not, greater minds than the ones who discovered "cognitive interference" have come up with even more ludicrous conclusions from funded research.

As an example, the esteemed fellows at the National Highway Traffic Administration have figured out how to prevent 90 percent of all bicycle accidents.  Their conclusion is so simple, and so commonsensical that I wondered how I didn't come up with it myself.

According to lead researcher Dr. Laura Gafferty, "Our data confirm that the vast majority of cyclist injuries can be avoided by driving an automobile instead of biking around like some weirdo."  She added that while bicycle riding is perfectly acceptable for children under 12, it isn't recommended for any adult who isn't competing in the Tour de France.  "Regular people drive cars because it's the normal and not the abnormal thing to do," she explained. If every cyclist drove a car "like you're supposed to as an adult", cycling-related fatalities would "drop by 40 percent in the first six months alone," she claimed.

Her team's study was published in that most respected of all journals:  The Onion.

In Theory, At Least...

Some things simply don't make any sense.  

On the other hand, there are many more things that make sense to somebody--but not to me.  Maybe they make sense to you, or someone you know.  Or perhaps not.

The category of things that make sense to somebody is comprised, in part, of ideas and inventions that make you scratch your head.  They make sense to whoever came up with them, and they might work "on paper" or in some alternative universe.  

One such idea/invention is a bicycle that's pedaled with both feet together.  How or why anyone came up with it is beyond me.  

For one thing, pedaling with both feet together means standing up, then sitting back down to propel one's self. Now, I realize there are people who ride that way normally, but they are almost always novices and, if they continue to ride, eventually shed the habit.

The creators of "Swingbike" refer to it as "The Athletic Perfection."  The reason, as I understand it, is that in standing up and sitting down through the pedal stroke, the rider has to pump his or her arms.  I guess that's somebody's idea of a "full body workout."

I don't know whether the "Swingbike" was ever produced.  Perhaps it was made under another name:  After all, there are many other machines with the same name; in some cases, they're called "Swing Bike" (two words).  Or, perhaps, it was aborted by copyright laws!

I Am An Invasive Species

I am an invasive species.

All right, I won't give myself that much credit.  I am only one of an invasive species.

Is it because I'm female?  Transgender? (Yes, we really are trying to take over the world!;-))  Someone who didn't vote for Trump?

No, it's not because of any of those things.  At least, that's what Scott Sales, a Montana State Senator, would have you believe.

Yes, Senator Sales, I am a cyclist. IIII aaam aaa cyyyy-clisssst.  Booo!  I am coming to take over your state! Bwa-ha-ha-ha!

OK, so he didn't say "Cyclists are an invasive species" as an exclamatory or declarative sentence.  But he did something that, in effect, labelled us as such.

He wants to make any out-of-state cyclist entering the state buy a $25 sticker, which would have to be attached to the bicycle and renewed every year, by tacking an amendment onto SB 363, a bill about invasive species management.  Specifically, he wants the money he shakes down from us (Well, all right, I wasn't planning to go to Montana this year!)  to be used against an invasive mussel species in the state's waterways.

So let me get this straight (Please don't read anything into that last word!):  Senator Sales is equating cyclists with invasive mussels.

Please tell me he's being ironic.  Is he capable of irony?  (From Montana Public Radio)

I don't have to tell you how absurd this idea is.  What in the world can taxing cyclists do to halt the spread of a mussel that multiplies faster than anything else in the Big Sky State's rivers, streams and lakes?  

Folks who use motorized fishing boats don't have to pay any such fee for the privilege.  Now, perhaps I'm ignorant in the ways mussels spread their range, but I should think that one boat can do far more to facilitate that than all of the cyclists in the world ever could.

Hon. Sales' proposal, moreover, demonstrates all sorts of  profound ignorance regarding cyclists.  He said that cyclists need "to put some skin in the game" in regards to road and recreation funding in the state".  He has called cyclists "some of the rudest and most self-centered people I've ever met" who "think they own the highway."

This, from a guy who shot down another bill that would have required motorists to give cyclists a three-foot berth when passing at 35MPH and five feet while driving any faster than that.  

Of course, anyone who would put the kibosh on such an idea doesn't realize that, unlike motorists, we can't operate our machines while texting or distracted in other ways.  Moreover, we are far less likely to ride than drivers are to drive while munching on fast food or imbibing alcohol because, well, it's difficult, if not impossible, for us to do those things.

About his "skin in the game" comment:   It's not the first time I've heard this wholly inaccurate perception of what we do or don't have invested "in the game."  Of course, it wasn't nearly as dangerous when it came from the folks from whom I've previously heard it as it is when it emanates from the mouth or pen of a lawmaker.   

You see, we pay the same taxes as motorists pay, whether or not we drive.  Contrary to what some believe, there is no  separate "road tax", at least not from the Federal government or any state or municipality of which I'm aware.  In fact, the only taxes I don't pay that any motorist pays are the ones added to gasoline.

Aside from that, I have just as much "skin in the game" as any motorist.  I'll admit, though, that as the weather gets nicer and I'm riding more, I won't have as much skin in the game because, well, I won't have as much skin.  That, I should think, would make me less invasive.

Don't Mess With....My Hair!

He was a young guy, in really good shape.  She was the attractive young woman who dated him...though, not for very long.

So what, exactly, was the "deal breaker"?  No, one didn't find out the other had a spouse and family in another country--or was an axe-murderer.  And no other "dim, dark" secret--like the one that led to my other blog--was revealed.

By now, you've probably guessed that I was telling one of my stories, in third (rather than first) person.  So...do you want to know why I broke up with her?

All right...I'll tell you anyway.  She wouldn't go bike riding with me.  In fact, she wouldn't ride a bike, period.  

OK.  This is nothing new. I'm sure some of you are, or have been, in relationships with people who don't want to get on the saddle and pedal.  Perhaps you, too, ended a relationship with a person for that reason. Or, maybe, you've found a way to accomodate your differences:  You go for your rides while your beloved does something else.  Afterward, you wine and dine together and, to burn up those calories, engage in another kind of physical activity--one that generates more wattage than a dynohub and LED headlamp! ;-)

Now, being as young as I was, I had almost no concept of compromise and no skills in mediation.  (I still don't have much of either, I'm afraid.)  So there was simply no way I could come up with a solution--even to keep such an attractive young woman at my side and keep up the appearance of being a macho heterosexual male.

But even if I were more adept at the art of negotiation, I wouldn't have wanted to come up with a way to keep us together.  You see, what really bothered me was the reason she wouldn't ride:  She was afraid that it would mess up her hair.

I kid you not. (When was the last time you heard that?)  She always kept herself perfectly coiffed.  (Later, another partner would keep me perfectly cuffed.;-)) Of course, when I met her, that was one of the first things I noticed:  her nearly perfect chestnut mane.  Still, I told myself, it was entirely frivoulous and pointless (I actually used to say things like that to myself!) to devote so much of one's attention to such a thing--and to deny one's self other pleasures and experiences in the service of such devotion.

Now, many years (decades, actually) later, I can say this:  I wanted her hair.  And I wanted permission to be so fussy about it!  Yes, I was jealous.

Anyway, I hadn't thought about her, or the story I've recounted in a long time--until I saw this:

If you don't live in or around Roanoke, Virginia, you might not know that such a rack was actually built.  Its creators--the design team of the Knowhow Shop--say it was inspired by this question:  "What would I lock my bike to if I were really small?"

I wonder whether any of them had a girlfriend who wouldn't ride because she was afraid that it would mess her hair.

It's A Mountain Bike....And A Weight Trainer.

Yesterday, dear reader, I subjected you to another one of my "I remember when" posts.  If I do say so myself, I suspect some of you may have liked it, as the thing I was remembering is the sort of bike that's, sadly, not made anymore.

Today's post will also begin with "I remember when".  What am I recalling from the good ol' days?  Listening to a song with the lyric "all of the colors of black" with rainbows of polyester all around me?  Hearing Bruce Springsteen before the rest of the world would hear of him?  (Yes, I did!)  Seeing Michael Jackson when he was still black?  

No, I'll tell you about something that, if you're not of a certain age, you will find truly incredible.  No, I'm not talking about a time when the Rolling Stones and Joni Mitchell were actually worth listening to.  (Believe me:  There was such a time!)   I'm also not talking about the Knicks winning the NBA Championship. (Yo lo vi, I swear!)  Instead, I'm about to tell you something you may find even more unbelievable.  But I swear it's true.

Here goes:  Saturday Night Live was once actually worth watching. In fact, it was the funniest, and simply the best, program on TV for a time.  Really, it was.  In those days, it offered skits like this:



It's a dessert topping.  No, it's a floor wax.  Dan Ackyroyd, Gilda Radner and Chevy Chase were parodying all of those products hawked on late-night TV that try to serve disparate functions.  Can you imagine what the original SNL cast would have done with smart phones when they first came out?

Now, I'm not against products that can perform more than one function or task.   But just about every product has at least one thing it should never, ever be made to do.  As an example, I don't see how any device could be a juicer and a deep fryer at the same time.  At least, I don't think I'd want to eat or drink anything that came from such a device.

I have seen bicycles used to generate power for hair dryers and laptops, or spin grinding stones used to sharpen knives and cut keys.  I have even seen them used as amphibious vehicles.  I don't mind such uses; in fact, I applaud them.

But I don't think I like this:


If the bars and stem can flex enough to double as a gym machine for upper-body workouts, I'm not sure I'd want to ride them. And, really, you have to wonder just how good of a workout someone would get---whether in the upper body or legs--from the Revolution.

Unstealable Bikes And "Smart" Locks

Why is it that "smart" things are always invented for dumb people?

That question is the premise behind today's post in "The Retrogrouch."  Its author seems to have some sort of radar that finds all of the most ridiculous and useless "innovations" in cycling.  The latest is the Noke U-Lock, which promises to "eliminate the hassle and frustration of lost keys and forgotten combinations".

Just as there are people who know how to communicate only on Facebook and Twitter, there are those who can't do anything without a smartphone app.  (Actually, they're the same people. Or so I assume.  I don't have a smartphone, or a Facebook or Twitter account!)  The Noke U-Lock is apparently made for such people. 

In reading about it, I had the same question "Retrogrouch" asked:  If people can't be bothered to use a key, or can't remember a combination or where they parked their bike, how in the world can they ride a bike--or function in this world?

Ironically, just before I read "Retrogrouch's" post, I came across something almost as ridiculous.  What's even more ironic is that it's something that, while just as pointless as the Noke U-Lock, will probably never be used by someone who'd use a Noke. 

The Yerka "unstealable" bike

The Yerka is an "unstealable" bike?  Oh, please.  What I find really funny is that the promo video starts off with someone cutting a bike lock. If a thief can do that, what's to say that he or she can't cut the downtube or seatpost that makes the bike "unstealable"?




If that bike were parked in some parts of NYC, the wheels would disappear. Hmm...Maybe the Yerka's owner would need another lock after all. The Noke, perhaps?&lt;/span></div>