While looking through one of my discs, I came upon this photo:
I won't claim it as a contemporary counterpart to Le Penseur. But it got me to thinking nonetheless.
I recall taking it at a WE Bike meeting in June at Bike Works NYC. The shop offers a good selection of vintage and vintage-inspired bikes and accessories, as well as high-quality tools and parts. It's in a space about the size of a Texas closet: Only in New York could such a claustrophobic space house a bike shop!
Anyway, I didn't take any notes about the photo. So, perhaps, you could supply some. Perhaps you could come up with a caption or one of those thought-bubbles you see in a comic strip.
What's on this woman's mind in a bike shop?
For the past few days, I've had a relapse of the respiratory illness I had during the winter. So, I was off the bikes and generally out of commission.
I finally got out today, to go to the store. Along the way, I saw a bike that normally wouldn't capture my attention: one of the many department-store "mountain" bikes you see parked on the street. However, something struck me as odd about this one:
Did you notice what was off? Here's a shot that might give you a clue:
Did you notice that the brakes are mounted to the rear of the fork? That was the first thing that tipped me off to something else that's wasn't quite right: Look at the angle of the fork legs.
Yes, the fork is mounted backward. Was it deliberately installed that way by some kid who wanted to make his bike "different"? I don't know whether that's more or less disturbing than the other probable explanation: Whoever assembled the bike simply didn't know any better.
Look at how far the front wheel is from the rest of the bike:
It's not merely an aesthetic concern, however. I simply cannot imagine how the bike rides with the fork in such a position. I would expect the shopping carts in the local supermarket to have quicker, more responsive and more accurate steering than the bike with a fork mounted that way. In fact, with such handling, I'd be afraid to ride the bike, especially in traffic.
I wonder whether the bike's rider notices anything odd or unusual about the ride. Perhaps he or she has never ridden anything else and so has no basis for comparison. Perhaps this person thinks that bikes normally handle like that one.
Now that's a scary thought--at least to me.
Some years ago, Santa left a package of this in my Christmas stocking:
It was actually very good pasta. If I recall correctly, it was made in Italy. At any rate, it came in the trecolori of verte, blanco e rosso. As much of a Francophile as I am, I'm not so sure that I would have wanted pasta en bleu.
I have seen cookies and other foods--usually sweets--shaped like bicycles. I can easily imagine cutting vegetables and fruits and forming the pieces into two-wheeled crudites. However, I have a harder time seeing meat, fish or fowl as velocipedic viandes.
All of this begs a question: Has anyone ever eaten an actual bicycle?
One Michel Lotito--a Grenoble native who performed under the name "Monsieur Mangetout"-- would have answered, "Moi!"
The best part is that he ate not one, but eighteen, bicycles during his lifetime. Apparently, it was his favorite non-food delicacy: He also consumed fifteen shopping carts, seven televisions, six chandeliers and one Cessna 150 aircraft, among other objects you won't find on the menus of restaurants in his hometown. (I know: I've been there!)
Before partaking of his meals, he cut the objects into pieces and, when necessary, ground up the parts. I don't know whether or not he said grace, but he did gulp some mineral oil before downing his repasts, and drank water throughout each "course". If you ask me, his exploits give new meaning to the term "slider".
He claimed never to have suffered any ill effects from his galvanized gourmandizing, even though he consumed some substances that are considered poisonous. He also said he never had trouble passing any of the estimated nine tons of metal he ingested between 1959 and 1997. No Montezuma's Revenge for him. However, he also said that bananas and hard-boiled eggs made him sick.
On 25 June 2007, ten days after he turned 57, he died "of natural causes".
All of this, of course, begs another question: Did he ever eat a carbon fiber bike? If so, did its fiber content aid his digestion?
