Halloween at Work

The costume contest was tight and good as usual despite the departure of the perennial powerhouse Andrew F.

Angie R. got first with her 'Flower Pot' costume, Ryan P. was second with 'Jack' and Chuck P. was third with 'Bathroom Attendant."


Taking a poop at work has never been more luxurious.

Bourbon Street, New Orleans 1955

"Man with garter" © George S. Zimbel 2007
I ran across this gallery online. So very cool.

Time to Get Sweaty

From Chicago's finest forges comes the mighty Raygun.
The Blank Club - San Jose - December 5th - 12 Measly Bucks
Buy Tickets Here

Interbike '07 Part 2: Nic Nac Pattywhack

Knog slings bags for your inner hipster
So there’s this little company called Knog and I’m not sure what their deal is entirely (What do I look like, a reporter?). A couple years ago they came out with this coolish gelatinous little blinky light called the Knog Frog that you could attach rubber band-style to just about anything you can wrap it around…handlebars, seat post, frame tubes, etc. It doesn’t throw a ton of light, but it gives you a snowball’s chance of being seen before that Hummer’s brush guard processes you into a bag of tissue.

I like the Knog light’s industrial design…I’m pretty sure it’s what’s called a “blobject”; something that has an almost organic shape to it, roughly based on a blob of goo, as opposed to something angular or sculpted. The fact that it’s adaptable and doesn’t need a mounting bracket makes it exceptionally practical as well as good-looking.

Anyway, these Knog dudes apparently also do bags and have jumped on the messenger bag bandwagon. And while I’m perhaps a little too cynical and uncool for this brakeless fixie hipster playing-card-in-my-spokes I-look-like-messenger-but-I’ve-never-messengered-anything-but-a-pack-of-Pall Malls *THING* that’s going on, the Knogster’s have probably hit a home run with a couple of these bags.


There’s the naked bag, with the cool naked people on it showing dick and tits and stuff. It also says something cool on the inside flap like “Oh yeah? Well it’s better than television,” but I just made that up. I can’t remember what it says, but it says something infinitely clever and is printed in one of those scratchy kinda hand drawn fonts.


Then there’s the blueish one with the dude carrying the hotty on his top tube, kinda between this forearms. That one is stylie and cool too. I dunno if it says anything on the flap because I didn’t look.

Of hotdogs and shoe fetishes

Duffs had a skate-style shoe called Sweet Lou that I really liked. Mostly because its light blue argyle pattern looks like the packaging of the world’s best hot dog--the Superdawg...available at the corner of Milwaukee and Devon and Nagle in Chicago. I think they would sell a lot more shoes if they merchandised them with a Superdawg inside, but that’s just me.

Sidi had a new road shoe with a neon green heel cup. I’m not really a neon green kinda guy, but I found myself drawn to it. I think they retail for like $6K or something, but at least they’re made in Italy. And they have a green heel cup.

Despite Sirens, TI still serving up good, clean fun

OK, so this last thing wasn’t so much at the show as next to it, but I need to give props once again to the bars of soap they put in the shower at the TI hotel (formerly known as Treasure Island until they decided to slut up the pirate show, now called The Sirens of TI, and go more adulty). Anyway, the bars of soap there are nubbed for your pleasure! When you use it on your shoulders, it’s kind of like a mini massage! When you set it into the soap tray, it doesn’t turn into a bar of mush! The ingenious little nubs suspend it a few centimeters in the air and allow the whole bar to dry! When you use it the next time there’s none of that gloopy glop! Genius! Pure freakin’ genius!

Interbike '07 Part 1 - Sexy, cool and crazy

I’ve been stewing on my Interbike observations for a couple weeks, but had little time to get them down until now. I’m thinking I’ll do this in installments so that my six regular readers are not overwhelmed. I know you’re all busy. In any case, I hope you enjoy.
-Don

Pinarello brings sexy back
I’m not sure if it’s the same with all guys but I have some quite vivid recollections of my earliest arousals. I say this not to be boastful or anything, but as a matter of fact. Like the sunrise or the tides, it is just one of those things…I have a memory for boners.

When I was 11 or 12, I recall seeing a photograph of a wetsuit-clad beauty sauntering out of the ocean, flippers mask and snorkel in hand and a come-hither half smile on her face. She was radiant. And wet and exotic. The setting sun lighted her long wet hair to perfection. The tightness of the black neoprene transmitted her perfect shape in a way more revealing than if she were wearing nothing at all. The just-shy-of-navel unzippedness of her top tantalizingly hinted at her curvaceous breasts and the neon yellow accents of the wetsuit brought it all home with a snap of dazzling color. This was no girly mag, mind you, it was either the Dacor Scuba catalog or Popular Mechanics or something else equally benign. But in the early stages of my hormonal upheaval it might as well have been Penthouse or Hustler or OnTV’s late night programming.

And while the new, curvaceous, flat black carbon and tennis ball yellow Pinarello Prince did not, in fact, pitch a tent in my pants, I must admit that I did linger on the thought of it between my legs. I have no idea what it weighs or how it rides or what gruppo it comes with or what it costs, it’s just the sexiest bike I’ve ever seen.

Crazy and cool: Richard Byrne's repro Masi Special
Possibly the coolest bike at the show was one that was not for sale. It belongs to Richard Byrne, founder, owner and principal of Speedplay Pedals, who was at the show ostensibly to sell pedals, but who I suspect was having way more fun showing off his latest flight of fancy—a custom-built Masi reproduction of a classic original Masi Special, which he also owns. To clarify, yes, he has a fully in-tact 1961 original, and, yes, he now has an exact custom-built replica frame clad with original 1961 parts.

I say the following with admiration and respect—Richard Byrne is fucking crazy.

Restoring an old bike to its former glory—that’s one thing. Commissioning someone to build a frame that looks like an old frame, well that’s another one thing. Scouring earth and internet, and taking literally years to find each and every long-extinct original part that came on the original frame…down to the decals and pedal straps? That’s insanity. Sheer craziness.

I should be so crazy. We all should.

PS – Speedplay makes awesome pedals and the full details of Richard’s Masi can be found here on their web site.

You know your fugly when...

You get the following note with your license from the DMV...

Red Light on Black Francis

Whether you call him Black Francis or Frank Black or Charles Thompson IV or that guy from the Pixies, this rotundish ball of sweatiness rocks. Here Frank churns out "Motorway to Roswell" during a sparsely attended show at The Catalyst in Santa Cruz on Monday night.

$300 Jeans are Not in My Genes

"Why yes I have been waiting nearly two years to figure out a vaguely plausable excuse to put a picture of my own ass on my blog, thanks for asking."

So here I sit at my desk in $300 jeans. THREE HUNDRED DOLLAR JEANS…that’s fucking ridiculous. I, of course, did not pay $300 for them and I never would. I can have these for free—ZIP, ZERO, NO DOLLARS, FREE.99—but I just can't do it...I cannot wear $300 jeans. I am not a $300 jeans guy.

I think if I were sitting across the table from my dad and told him I had $300 jeans on he would smack me. Well, after that look and that slight choking noise and his half-sentence shock—“You gotta be…” he would trail off, then WHACK! And I would be OK with that. He didn’t raise me to wear $300 jeans. It’s bad enough his son thinks he’s more Italian than he really is…that he shaves his legs and rides his bicycle all the time…that he lives in California…$300 jeans—Hells no!

Principle aside, these jeans ain’t all that. They make my ass look flat(er), the faux warn finish looks too faux, and—worst of all—they keep binding my nuts. Did I mention they cost 300 f-ing dollars? For 300 clams they should at the very least make coffee, fetch the paper and trim my nosehairs. And the oh-aren’t-we-super-fucking-edgy-because-we-applique-scary-skulls-on-the-ass-pockets-of-these-overpriced-clubjamas are just…dumb. A pirate wouldn’t be caught dead in these and they love skulls! Shit, I love skulls—and pirates!—but these just seem so contrived!

Nope, these are just not me and when I’m done typing and posting this, I will—carefully, so as not to rupture myself—remove them and return them, respectfully, to the giver of the jeans with the following note:

“Thank you but $300 jeans are just not in my genes.”

Superheros on Bikes

Were I going to be in town a week from Friday, I would go to this. In my absence, please go. I will be thinking superheroic thoughts.

Thanks.

Monday Morning Irony

So there we were in line at Noah's and just as Andy started telling me about the leak in his bathtub wreaking havoc on his home, Led Zeppelin's "When the Levee Breaks" comes on the radio. I know, I'm a total geek for making the connection, but you can't script that shit!

Cycling Tip #751

Never jam your freshly used cycling shorts in the same bag with your favorite hat. Your hat will smell like ass.