Tattoos

I love the East Village. Lots of minorities living in relative peace and harmony and only occasionally robbing or assaulting each other. Everyone is welcome and even if you are not, no one is going to throw you out. Even so, I do feel like an outsider occasionally. I don't have a tattoo.

I'm not against tattoos, I just don't want one. On the contrary, if the hipsters want to pour some cash into the East Village economy, go right ahead. On St Marks alone, there are 7 tattoo joints between Ave A and Broadway. That's a lot of 'artists' to feed. They need rebels with cash and un-inked real estate to swing by.

The point I cannot reconcile is a little more philosophical. I change my mind occasionally. What if I get some 'ink' and decide I don't like it? Laser removal? Doesn't seem to be a great option to replace unwanted ink with scar tissue. I certainly don't want to be the dribbling old guy in the corner of the nursing home with a 'sleeve' of demons and naked ladies. Then again, I don't want to be a dribbling old guy in a nursing home. 

However, most East Villagers would claim that they intend to live fast and die young but there are simply too many of them to assume none will survive to inked old age. Worse, when they breed and move to Williamsburg for the 'space' (and to access cheap veggies through the Park-Slope Food Co-Op) it becomes apparent that they aren't differentiated rebels. They are aging hipsters with tattoos, dressed the same as the other aging hipsters with tattoos, and they all send their children to the same schools; thereby becoming part of a homogeneous crowd - which is what they were trying to avoid when they got the tattoo.

But that's an issue for them. If they're happy, I'm happy. I might let out the occasional snort as I ride  past them heading home to the LES across the Williamsburg Bridge (I take the long way home from mid-town). My favorite part of the day is turning the corner onto the bike access ramp from the Williamsburg side as the hipsters hammer down towards the bollards trying to slow their fixies without using brakes. It's too narrow to power slide and those bollards certainly are solid. The smell of fear lingers in the air longer than the smell of burnt rubber. Sorry, but there are few things as 'uncool' looking as the fixie bum wobble as they try to slow without dislocating their hips.

Back to tattoos. My only pause, my real moment of questioning the wisdom, relates to facial 'ink' and corporate logos - which also includes references to sporting events owned by corporations. The fundamental premise with a tattoo is that you are getting something that lasts forever (or until they invent a way to remove them that looks the same or better than un-inked skin) which is part of the commitment; the appeal presumably, but some people should spend a bit more pre-ink time thinking through the consequences, let alone the 'look'. Mike Tyson tried to leverage off centuries of South Pacific  tribal designs but those guys were generally trying to scare the shit out of each other before a fight to the death, not retirement from boxing. Still Mike's ink is a bit soft when compared to the true believers.

But I digress. My real issues is with sporting event/corporate tattoos (same thing). Sure, after completing an 'Ironman' triathlon you might feel flushed with achievement but don't get a permanent advertisement for the corporation that owns the world wide rights to the events and the logo. All you are doing is advertising their brand for the term of your natural life. A variation on the theme is to 'capture' the achievement without advertising the corporation - ie something that alludes to completing the Ironman distance but is not the 'M-dot' logo. I saw the one below on a recent ride.



left leg

I must admit I was a little confused because there was nothing on his right leg. I assumed the letters were a reference to the scientific symbol for Iron. Then again, maybe his name is Febox. Either way, he rode off before I could ask him so I completed completed the job for him.

suggested right leg 'ink'

Job done. Now that's a proper Ironman tattoo!

If you have to rebel, I'd stick to body piercing. At least if you change your mind, it will grow over.

Bike seats - the good, the very bad

The search for the Holy Grail continues - a seat that is comfortable for long distances

Models to be reviewed with graphic descriptions of damage done, success, failure, the highs, the lows, the bruises, the blood blisters (...and this is cycling, not running - this is meant to be fun)-

• Brooks Swift Ti (I hate this seat)
• Fizik Aliante (current source of disappointment)
• SMP Stratos (what was I thinking?!)

These are my three most recent and followed a long line of equally miserable non-performers although I did quite like an ancient Selle Italia Turbo until the rail snapped. All have been ridden for many, many, many kilometres. I'll lead off with the biggest disappointment.

The Brooks Swift Ti ('swift' because you ride fast to finish and get off the seat). The seat looked great out of the box, as product testers say (not sure what it means). Also smelt nice, like a leather couch. A new one, not a skanky old one in a night club with layers of grunge that defy analysis.

The shiny hardness reminded me of new school shoes from the very distant and forgettable past. Ironic because siting on this seat is like having a hard leather shoe shoved up our ass, or 'arse' as the British say; it is an English saddle after all. Also not sure why I fell for the "Ti" (ie titanium for those without a periodic table handy) version but I suppose it weighed a teeny bit less while I dragged it everywhere and the rock hard leather efficiently destroyed my ass/arse. It also cost more than the standard model so it had to be better.

Before the question is asked - yes, I confirm I bought the Brooks leather slime and dutifully coated the seat as often as recommended and more so when I rode in the rain, snow etc. I stuck this awful seat on my trusty mountain bike and used it to ride to work and back every day for oh, I dunno, three years. Any improvement? Nope. 

Moving along. Although I can legitimately claim to be obnoxious, I cannot claim to be a big fat bastard (or attractive). Weighing in at an acceptable 138 pounds and at 5'7 in tallness/shortness (that's 'normal' by the way...look it up), I also can't claim to exert much gravity assisted grinding pressure on the rock hard leather of this unforgiving, literal pain in the ass/arse but I would have thought that the effluxtion of time and my bum sweat would have eventually softened things up a bit, er....no. By the way, I do ride distances longer than 20 kms a day and have ridden with this seat on many, many long rides - same result. 

The first sign of real trouble was the NYC Century a few years ago. It is a chilled out, slow, FLAT ride with nice-ish other riders (and the usual NY fuckwit car drivers trying to mow everyone down). Transportation Alternatives organises the ride to demonstrate that cars and bikes can co-exist in NYC. I don't ride it because of my love of bicycle advocacy (infact, some of the most insane riding I have seen has been on the NYC) but I do appreciate their hard work and it's a nice way to see the city and reduce you chances of being run over by making like a school of fish - if there are lots of people doing the same thing and if someone has to be squashed by a car, bitten by a dog, arrested, shot etc chances of escape are better in a crowd.

Anyway, for this ride, I put the seat on my trusty road bike. The ride was 160kms/100 miles. A reasonable, not excessive distance. First 50ks were all good, next 50 sort of not so good, next 50 - very uncomfortable, last 10 - excruciating. Upon triumphant completion of the ride, I returned to the East Village, stepped over the dog shit, needles, the odd junky and pushed through the trash to get inside my apartment, then headed for the shower to make myself a little less stinky. The warm water was relaxing until it reached downstairs - sharp intake of breath and serious cheek clenching (not my face). Closer inspection revealed a bruise, blister and welt under where I suppose each sit bone is located.

Still. I didn't give up. I persisted for a long, long time. Anything over 100ks was never fun. I tried to like this seat. I nurtured it with Brooks Proofide. I encouraged it to meet me half way but the relationship was never meant to be. It looked so shiny when we met but was too inflexible. We had to break up. I haven't seen Brooks Swift Ti for a long time though I hear it's doing fine ruining someone else's life.

To be continued...

Bike Path of Death

Injury, death, mayhem, drama, craven stupidity - that's riding on the Bike Path of Death (BPOD) along the Hudson River.

If aliens want to know how hard it is to take over New York, they should head on down to the Hudson River bike path at 54th Street. They will be  pleased. The stupidity and self annihilation is staggering. To avoid the carnage on 1st Ave, I ride to mid-town from the East Village via the BPOD and turn off at 54th St. In the period between stopping at 54th Street/West Side Hwy, waiting for the lights to change I have seen cyclists run into cyclists, cyclists run into runners, cyclists run into strollers and joggers run into signs (which is just funny). It is a festival of carnage by a bunch of desperados. I know that living in NY can make you crazy, but really...

The thing that really pisses me off is the general, everyday head up the ass stupidity of cyclists on the BPOD...and I ride a bike. Even runners on the BPOD are less random. Some are in the occasional habit of doing a U-turn without looking for traffic which results in spectacular accidents with cyclists (ambulance always required) but at least runners aren't moving quickly and they are sort of softer and squishier when you hit them. Bike riders on the other hand, are not.

Summer is the worst with every triathlete/road racing wanna-be/weekend warrior hammering up and down through the random commuters, joggers and strollers. The danger climbs with the temperature, peaks in July at the NY triathlon and diminishes as the weather gets cooler. After the NY Marathon in November, it's all good. The best time to ride is in the middle of Winter - the only traffic is the restaurant delivery guys and they are friendly, and slow (except when they are riding the wrong way up a one way street, but that is a different matter).

Beware the BPOD. You have been warned.

Update No.1 - riding up the BPOD last week, I saw a runner bolt across the bike path trying to make a light to cross the West Side Hwy. He didn't look left or right which caused the rider he nearly hit, to swerve to his left and nearly run into a women on a bike (with a child in a carrier on the back). She slammed on the brakes and nearly fell off, then gave the other rider a mouthful but ignored the runner.

Who was at fault? The runner was stupid and thoughtless. The bike rider that swerved around him should have been looking for runners etc because random acts of stupidity happen all the time on the BPOD. The women with the child should have maced the runner. It was his fault after all plus she should know better than taking innocent children onto the BPOD which is far more dangerous than the crap shoot that is getting into a NY taxi.

Roll on Winter. The only safe time to be on the BPOD.

Lance Armstrong, Grandfondo NYC...it's all so sordid

Ah yes, drugs in sport. Tyler Hamilton has been busy and has just released a book that appears to be partly about him and mostly about Lance Armstrong's small er,...drug problem.

At the risk of adding another irrelevant opinion to the bottomless pit of public opinion on this topic, let's go back...

I must say I applauded Lance Armstrong's struggle back to professional sport from his death bed, sort of enjoyed reading the books and would like to have believed he was clean...but I never could - anti-cancer fundraising squeaky cleanness, or not. The Tour de France is too hard and the rest of the (mostly doped up) peleton too good that it was always too good to be true (that's a lot of 'toos', but that's a lot of 'wins' as well). The idea that one punter could train, compete and most importantly recover, day in day out to win 7 on the trot is absurd. More power to his pharmacist though. Also to the organisation that went into getting him on/off/on/off the juice with such efficiency and timing between the famous 500 tests. To the true believers in Saint Lance - good luck (btw I saw Santa Claus and Elvis having a beer in the East village yesterday).

The only outcome that would amount to any justice at this point would be to call a doping moratorium ending at the start of the 2011 TDF  - being the most likely the first TDF won by someone not doping in the last 50 years - nice work Cadel...goes to show that if you aren't on the juice backing up two years in a row is a bit of a stretch. Let all past riders fess up and walk away with their wins/losses/careers intact. Lance Armstrong could keep his 7 tainted titles and so could all of the others that have won/lost/had a placing in the last 50 years in hundreds of bike races and we can all move on. My moratorium offer comes with mandatory long term biological passporting for the pros and mandatory public humiliation for any amateur caught doping (more on that later) for being so cravenly pathetic.

Incidentally, it is a bit rich stripping him of his titles when so many previous winners were on the juice as well. Yes, yes Contador had his taken off him but it's a bit late to reverse that one. Pretending that Lance Armstrong was the most egregious offender of past winners is absurd. He is certainly the most blatant and unrepentant but then he had the misfortune to be winning at a time that drugs in sport is (quite rightly) a huge issue. Bad timing old boy. Oh, well.

Which brings me to why this issue irritates me. For a start, he is full of shit and has taken the 'walk away, I'm too tired to keep fighting this' defence - ie the coward's way out. Either fight it to the death or confess. It's not like he has run out of cash or has anything better to do (triathlons?). But worse, amateur morons think that doping is a good idea - eg David Anthony (amatuer doper). That poor punter has been beaten up enough so that's not my intent, or even my right for that matter - sorry, professional 'althetes' get paid to compete and are fair game. As has been well documented, Anthony was busted at, of all events, the Granfondo NYC (aka the weekend ride to Bear Mtn and back).

A moment of full disclosure - to my eternal shame I rode in the Grandfondo NYC. I promise never to repeat this mistake. I have also ridden to Bear Mtn a few times and can confirm that riding without 5000 friends is much more enjoyable, less dangerous and you don't  all have to wear the same stupid jersey. Most importantly, you can do it any weekend (except grandfondle weekend) for free. Anyway, the doping controls were a great laugh and a pathetic attempt to lend some credibility to a group ride so to be actually caught doping was a staggering performance by D. Anthony.

Which brings me to my point. Lance et al, either win cleanly or piss off and get an honest job (politics, investment banking?). You are a bad example to youth and middle aged men dealing with a mid-life crisis. Fuck you.