Possibilities

12.9.2005 | 1:14 am

I’ve tried traveling with a bike a couple times. I’ve never liked it. When you ship the bike in a box or hard case via UPS (or USPS or whatever), you’ve got to break it down, pack it, take it to where you’re going to ship it, pick it up, unpack it, and then build it up again (assuming you brought all the right tools). And then, of course, you’ve got to do the whole dance again when it’s time to send the bike back home.

Taking the bike with you on the plane isn’t a lot better. You’ve still got to break it down and pack it, somehow get it from the parking garage to where you check luggage, then pay a huge fee for checking the bike. And at the other end of the plane it’s often an even worse nuisance, if you didn’t happen to rent the oversize jumbo sedan, SUV, or minivan.

Renting a bike is an option, but it seems to me that it always takes forever to get the bike dialed in for me, if I ever get comfortable on it at all. Plus I get the feeling that most people are no kinder to rental bikes than they are to rental cars.

So, when I travel, the bike usually stays at home, and I get cranky for not getting any riding in. If I’m not going to be at my destination for at least a week, having the bike there is just not worth the money or effort.

Until now.

 

What Came in the Mail on Tuesday

A little while ago, Chris, the marketing guy at Dahon asked me if I’d be interested in reviewing the Flo, their Joe Murray-designed steel hardtail mountain bike, for Cyclingnews. Of course I said yes; like any mountain biker, I love trying out new bikes. So last Tuesday one came in the UPS. It’s a nice-looking steel bike, with a Rock Shox Reba fork, Avid disc brakes, a carbon-fiber riser handlebar, American Classic Ultralight hubs, and XT-level components throughout. Check it out (click for larger image):

 

 

It also came with its own suitcase. Right here:

 

 

As I’m sure you’ve figured out, the bike fits in that suitcase, like this:

 

 

Yep, what makes the Flo really unusual is that the rear triangle comes off, using Tom Ritchey’s BAB technology.  With no instructions at all and using nothing but the tri-hex wrench I usually carry in my jersey, I built the bike up so it was ready to ride in about twenty minutes. Which is about five minutes longer than they say it ought to take: more proof (like any is necessary) that I am the world’s worst mechanic.

 

A Beautiful Idea

To tell the truth, I don’t know whether I’m going to like the Flo, because I haven’t ridden it yet. Regardless, though, I love the idea of this bike: a traditional-looking (I asked a mechanic at a bike shop if he could tell at a quick glance tell what was unusual about this bike; he couldn’t) steel hardtail with a no-compromise spec…that you can check as regular luggage and put together with the tools you carry on every ride anyway.

Which makes me think: Wouldn’t it be cool to be able to take your bike everywhere you go?

 

Fantasy Time

This changes the entire landscape of where I’d be willing to vacation. For example, my family has vacationed in North Carolina most every year since I was a kid, but I’ve never been mountain biking there. That’s ridiculous. This year the family’s talking about Costa Rica, which until now I’ve been lukewarm on: beaches don’t do much for me. A day mountain biking in Costa Rica though — that does, in fact, have massive appeal.

Or how about my wife’s dream vacation: traveling to Italy to see all the stuff she studied about when she was in college (Classical Civilizations major). That sounds great to me, but I know for sure that at some point — day 2.5 is a good guess — I will have had enough. At that moment, I could say, "Hon, why don’t you spend the rest of the day at the market or looking at this crumbly old building or whatever; I’m going for a ride." At least in my fantasy, my wife would have no problem with that.

Or how about Hawaii? Or Alaska? Or New Zealand? Or Norway?

Basically, for the first time ever, I’m beginning to see how going on a long trip might be pretty cool. And the "where" part doesn’t even matter that much; I can’t imagine many places that wouldn’t be cool to see from a bike cockpit.

 

The Question that Would Have Won You a Bag, Had I Only Asked it Yesterday

So, leaving aside whether  the Flo turns out to be a good bike, if you had a bike that you could just check as your luggage, where would you take it? Cuz, you know, suddenly I feel like traveling.

 

And the Banjo Brothers Bike Bag Giveaway Winner Is…

First off, I want to announce that I have made a change in how the Banjo Brothers Weekly Bike Bag Giveaway winner is chosen. It’s been bothering me to be the one to choose who wins, because it’s difficult for me to be unbiased. I can’t help it: I find myself liking comments that are flattering. Then I think, "Hey, I’m being swayed by flattery!" and swing away toward the stuff that’s all mean and nasty. Then I think, "Hey, why should I award something to someone who’s being mean to me?"

 

So, starting now, Dug is the judge of the contest. I picked Dug because he’s tough, but fair. Or something like that. Who won? Here’s what Dug says:

    BotchedExperiment is the winner. His comment is the soul of wit (which of course, is brevity).

And here’s BotchedExperiment’s entry:

 Is it a Lipoma?

Congratulations, Botched. email me with your address. And Dug, remember: you can be replaced.

 

PS: Cyclingnews has published my story, "Suggestions for the Lance Armstrong Movie." Click here to read it now.

 

An Open Letter to Lance Armstrong: Suggested Changes to Your Screenplay

12.8.2005 | 9:52 am

FROM: The Fat Cyclist
TO: Mr. Lance Armstrong
SUBJECT: Minor Changes to Your Screenplay

Dear Lance,

First off, thanks for letting me be one of the first people to see the screenplay you’ve just completed for your autobiographical movie. I loved it, and am absolutely positive that every cyclist in America would love it too. Cyclists will flock to this film, just as it’s written; they’ll love this window into your world, as well as the drama and pageantry that swirl around the Tour de France. In short, I feel confident, Lance, in guaranteeing that every single cycling enthusiast in America will go see this movie when it comes out.

Which is my gentle way of saying, Lance, that as written, your movie would be a complete and total disaster.

There are only about 6,000 cyclists in America, Lance. And this statistic is no less alarming even when you take into consideration that I just made it up. My point is: if you want this movie to succeed, you need to punch it up. Make it Hollywood-friendly. Give it some heat.

Here, then, are my suggestions for a rewrite of your screenplay, if you’d rather it be a summer blockbuster than an anonymous direct-to-DVD bust.

Change the Name
Yes, Lance, I know that your book, It’s Not About the Bike, was a huge success. But that book was for a different audience. Specifically, it was for an audience of people who know how to read. For a movie, you can’t go telling people what it’s not about. That would be like serving your head on a platter to the critics. I mean, can’t you just hear Roger Ebert opening his review of your movie saying something like, “Lance Armstrong’s movie tells us it’s not about his bike. That’s all well and good, but I wish he would have taken the time to decide what it is about.” (Note to Roger Ebert: I have copyrighted the preceding sentence. Hands off.)

So, then, what should you call the movie? I have a few suggestions:

  • Ride: People love one-word titles. They’re easy to remember. Also, it’s both an imperative verb and a noun, so it both describes what you do and what the film is. It sounds strong, confident. Manly. This is my number-one recommendation.
  • The Cyclist: This title makes it sound like you are really the only cyclist in the world. Everyone else is just a pretender. There’s also a decent chance that many people will mistake “Cyclist” for “Cyclone,” and we’ll get a fair number of tickets purchased by the disaster-film crowd. Hey, let’s not be picky; let’s get butts in seats any way we can.
  • Lance Loves Sheryl: This one’s risky. If you call it this, we’ll need to make sure that the movie trailers emphasize the love story aspect of your movie. The only way we’ll get a greater than .000001% of the female audience for this film is if we make them think it’s a romantic comedy.

Pump Up the Plot
Your life makes an inspiring story, Lance. Born into a humble, one-parent home, you showed great initial promise as a professional cyclist. Then you got cancer, but suffered through the treatment to emerge a stronger, more disciplined rider. Once you started riding in the Tour de France, you caught fire and won seven times in a row – showing a drive and consistency that is perhaps unmatched in the history of sport.

This kind of storyline is what we in the biz call a “non-starter.”

You know what they’re going to do when we pitch this movie, Lance? They are going to tear us to shreds. Here are the easy questions they’ll ask, and how I propose we revise your screenplay so we can be ready for them:

  • Where’s the villain? Of course, cancer is the real villain in your life, but that doesn’t exactly work on film, does it? We need someone who is doing his level best to thwart you – not just in racing, but in your personal life. I suggest Jan Ullrich is the right character for this role. We’ll have to tweak his personality a little bit since Ullrich is in fact one of the nicest guys in the whole world, but the motivation part’s easy: with each loss to you, Ullrich becomes more and more bitter, until he (let’s say in 2002) he snaps and vows he will stop at nothing – nothing!!! – to defeat you. He commences a campaign of underhanded tactics all geared toward securing the top spot on the Tour de France podium.
  • You mean once he starts winning, he just keeps winning? There’s never a serious doubt that he’ll keep winning? I’m sorry, Lance, but the first act (early promise) of your screenplay is incredibly ordinary, and the second act (enduring cancer treatment) makes you seem more like of a movie prop than an exciting film protagonist. We can tell those parts of the story in about twenty minutes anyways. Then there’s the third act: Tour de France champion. It goes like this: You win the Tour de France. Then you win again. Then you win again. Then you win again. Then you win again. Then you win again. Then you win again. It gets a little predictable, Lance. Think about this for a second: Rocky lost in the first movie, and that’s the only one that was any good.
  • At the end of the movie he just RETIRES?! I’m sorry to use bold, italics, all-caps and excessive punctuation, Lance, but that’s the way they’re going to say it. I can’t think of a more anticlimactic end to a movie than retirement. I suggest that in the movie, after your final tour you vow to fight crime, or you discover a cure to cancer while celebrating in a hotel, or something. Remember this Hollywood axiom, Lance: Any scene featuring a retirement must be followed with a scene wherein the newly-retired person is gunned down by his enemy. See any cop movie that has ever been made for an example of this.

Character Consolidation
I’m sure you don’t have trouble telling Floyd Landis from Roberto Heras from Tyler Hamilton from Jan Ullrich from Ivan Basso, even when they’ve got their helmets on. You probably can also identify every team immediately, with just a quick glance at what they’re doing.

I promise you, though, Lance: The movie-going audience, will be completely baffled by all these different people and uniforms. They will wonder, “How come there are so many people in this race? Didn’t some get eliminated in semi-finals?” And you know what? They’ll never figure out that there are several teams, with domestiques (Mr. Midwest: “Domestique? What’s a ‘domestique?’”) riding in support of captains.

So here’s what we do. First, we get rid of all but about seven racers, and five of them will be anonymous – their job will be to wipe out, drop off the back, acknowledge your superiority, and whatnot. We’ll consolidate Floyd, Roberto, Tyler and Ivan into one all-purpose competitor, who we will call “Henry.” Henry will not have a last name, and will communicate mostly through the medium of sweat.

Tactics Made Easy
As part of the general simplification of cycling for the moviegoing masses, we’ll simplify tactics. We won’t show you drafting along behind your team for 99.8% of a given stage, for example, because John. Q. Movieviewer would say, “How come Lance can’t beat that guy?” Instead, we’ll show you just shooting off the front at the beginning of the stage, and then staying off the front.

People will get that.

When you think about it, Lance, the whole idea of “stages” is fairly problematic. I mean, say you’ve never watched pro cycling before, and you come to this movie. It shows a guy coming in 20th or so, day after day. Maybe he wins one or two stages. Then, at the end, they say he won the whole thing. “No he didn’t,” Mr. Nascar Dad will reply. “I saw him lose over and over.” So we’re going to tweak the results a bit. We won’t go and actually say you won every stage in the movie, but we’ll only show the stages that you do win. That ought to do the trick.

Miscellaneous Changes
There are a few other little things we’ll need to change, Lance. Nothing big:

  • Costumes: I think you’ll agree that cycling uniforms look, well, silly. I’m in consultation with one of the hottest costume designers in Hollywood – she did both Daredevil and Pirates of the Carribean. She’s going to start from the ground up. I promise, you are going to be blown away by her designs. Think high-gloss leather with a chamois.
  • Location: Americans are very patriotic right now, Lance. Being a Texan yourself, you know that. What if the “Tour de France” became the “Tour de Freedom” and went from Alaska to Hawaii? That would rock.
  • Podium Ceremony: Girls in knee-length dresses, giving you a peck on the cheek and a stuffed lion? I don’t think so, Lance. I’m thinking full on rock-concert-level celebration, with Vegas showgirls doing the honors.

I’ve sent a copy of your script – along with these suggestions – to a top-notch team of Hollywood script-doctors, Lance. They asked me to give them some latitude as they wrote, and I figured you’d have no problem with that. I’m excited to see what they come up with.

Like I said, Lance, with a few tweaks here and there, we’re going to have a great film that stays true to your story and the sport.

Kind Regards,

The Fat Cyclist

Sick + Slammed

12.7.2005 | 4:03 pm

I got around two hours of sleep last night. Sick. And it’s one of those days where not going to work is not an option. More likely, I’ll be staying late.
 
So, the really interesting post I have in my head about what came in the mail yesterday — something bike-related — will have to wait ’til tomorrow.
 
And today’s contest, which will be for a very cool Banjo Brothers Duffell Bag — which is perfect for carrying your helmet, shoes, clothes, and other gear when you’re travelling –  is:
 
Speculate: what did I get in the mail yesterday?
 
The person who has the best answer wins. "Best," in this context, means "most interesting, insightful, or entertaining." It does not mean "most accurate."
 
Elsewhere
Since I’m clearly letting you down entertainment-wise today, I’ll direct you to something that has made me laugh each of the half-dozen times I have watched it. It’s family-safe and safe to watch at work. 
 
From my friend Racer’s blog: him at his new store.
 
I think anyone who’s ever had a dog can identify. Thanks, Racer, for posting that. Genius soundtrack, by the way.
 
More Elsewhere
From time to time I add cyclist’s blogs to my Blogging Cyclists. The newest additions always go to the bottom of the list. If you haven’t browsed the list lately, maybe you should today.

Perfectly Good Excuses

12.6.2005 | 5:04 pm

In one hour and ten minutes, I will post whatever it is I’m about to write. Then I’ll read it online and make a couple edits: usually adding a parenthetical joke or two, usually adding a few paragraph breaks.

Then I’ll get on my bike and ride to work.

The truth is, at this moment I’d prefer to drive to work. It’s cold, dark, and raining outside, and it’d be nice to just say, “forget it, I’m driving” today.

But I’m going to ride, because I don’t have a Perfectly Good Excuse for not.

 

The Importance of Excuses

Really, I’m a little bit embarrassed that I don’t have a good excuse for not riding today. In the past, I’ve generally been able to come up with something that sounds pretty convincing whenever I needed it.

Why do I need an excuse at all? A couple reasons:

  • Others: I’m noticing, as winter progresses, that an increasing number of people at work are asking me whether I biked in each day. (I’m beginning to suspect that an office pool has been started on when I’ll stop.) If I don’t ride in, I need to have a reason why I drove, or they’ll think I’ve given up. Somehow, if I give these people a good, compelling explanation of why I didn’t bike that day, I expect I’ll still get credit for being a cyclist. Now that I articulate that thought, I realize how completely boneheaded it is.
  • Myself: More than convincing others that I’d be biking if — darn it! — I didn’t have this Perfectly Good Excuse I cooked up, I need to convince myself. This allows me to be a slacker without being a quitter.

The Anatomy of a Good Excuse

So, in order to avoid the dilemma I find myself today — riding into work when I feel more like hibernating than exercising — I need to replenish my stock of Perfectly Good Excuses.

This is not as easy as it seems, because an excuse is nothing but an excuse unless it meets the rigorous entrance criteria necessary to become a Perfectly Good Excuse. These are:

  • It must be unique: An excuse that you have used within the past several days is no good. If you use the same excuse frequently or two days in a row, people will think you are just too lazy to fix the problem.
  • It must seem to have caught you unawares: The excuse needs to be something that came out of left field. If you knew it was coming, you could have probably planned for it and found a way to ride in anyway.
  • It must be convincing: The excuse must be good enough that the person you are using the excuse on agrees: he or she would also not ride into work under those circumstances.
  • You must sorta-kinda even believe it yourself: This is the tough one. If you know that your excuse is an outright fabrication, you’re not going to have much luck making yourself believe it’s true. You need to have a component of truth (no matter how small) in your excuse.

Perfectly Good Excuses Under Consideration

In order to avoid finding myself in today’s dilemma — biking into work when I really just want to go back to bed — I am currently developing a new stockpile of Perfectly Good Excuses. They are:

  • General Achiness / Approaching Illness: I don’t ever feel great first thing in the morning. In fact, if I went strictly by how I feel about the world in general when I first get up, I could probably make a case for calling in sick on any given day. The thing is, though, I know that this “blugh” feeling (a medical term) passes on its own within about five minutes, and I’m not very good at nursing it into a sense of impending illness. Plus, there’s the problem of my theory that when you feel sick, a ride is more likely to cure it than make it worse.
  • Can’t Find My Helmet / Shoes: This is actually a really good one; there’s no way I’m going biking without my bike shoes or helmet. And with the forgetfulness that seems to be accompanying middle age, this is an easy one to pull off, too. It just takes a little planning. If I put my helmet or shoes down anywhere besides the space I have reserved for them in the garage, I will not be able to locate them the next time I want them.
  • Broken Bike or Part: As long as you’ve got only one bike, this one’s bulletproof. It’s been a long time since I have had no serviceable bikes, though.
  • Need My Car: This is a good one — if you’ve got to go pick someone up at the airport during the day, there’s nothing you can really do about it; you’ve got to drive in. The problem is, these excuses generally don’t coincide with days I don’t feel like biking. In fact, they seem to most often happen on days that a ride sounds really, really good.
  • Rest Day to Avoid Overtraining: Oh, this is a fine one indeed. Not only does it give you a reason to skip riding that day, it carries an implied boast: “I skipped riding today because I am so fit it’s dangerous.” (Interesting note: did you know that “overtraining” is something that only very few pro-level athletes are even capable of? 99% of the people in the world couldn’t overtrain even if it was their fondest desire.)
  • Weather: Since most people won’t ride their bikes if it even looks like it might rain, you can almost always use the weather as an excuse. The problem is, the weather is a slippery slope. If you use it as an excuse today when it’s drizzling, you’ll wind up using it tomorrow when it’s raining again. Soon, the season’s over, and all that’s happened is you’ve become an expert on rain. (It’s entirely possible I’m fixating on rain for some reason. I wonder what that reason could be.)

PS: The Snowman Theme Continues

Yesterday I posted the game my 12-yr-old and I worked on over the weekend. Earlier that week, the rest of the kids were making real snowmen.

 

The twins (4 years old) with their snowpeople

 

The 10-yr-old, with his "Snowfa"

Suggested Revisions for Lance Armstrong’s Screenplay

12.5.2005 | 5:09 pm

Editor’s Note: The complete version of this story is now available at Cyclingnews.com. Click here to read it!

 

FROM: The Fat Cyclist

TO: Mr. Lance Armstrong

SUBJECT: Re: First Draft of My Screenplay!!!

 

Hi Lance,

 

First off, thanks for letting me be one of the first people to see the screenplay you’ve just completed for your autobiographical movie. I loved it, and am absolutely positive that every cyclist in America would love it too. Cyclists will flock to this film, just as it’s written; they’ll love this window into your world, as well as the drama and pageantry that swirl around the Tour de France. In short, I feel confident, Lance, in guaranteeing that every single cycling enthusiast in America will go see this movie when it comes out.

Which is my gentle way of saying, Lance, that as written, your movie would be a complete and total disaster.

There are only about 6,000 cyclists in America, Lance. And this statistic is no less alarming even when you take into consideration that I just made it up. My point is: if you want this movie to succeed, you need to punch it up. Make it Hollywood-friendly. Give it some heat.

Here, then, are my suggestions for a rewrite of your screenplay, if you’d rather it be a summer blockbuster than an anonymous direct-to-DVD bust.

 

Change the Name

Yes, Lance, I know that your book, It’s Not About the Bike, was a huge success. But that book was for a different audience. Specifically, it was for an audience of people who know how to read. For a movie, you can’t go telling people what it’s not about. That would be like serving your head on a platter to the critics. I mean, can’t you just hear Roger Ebert opening his review of your movie saying something like, “Lance Armstrong’s movie tells us it’s not about his bike. That’s all well and good, but I wish he would have taken the time to decide what it is about.” (Note to Roger Ebert: I have copyrighted the preceding sentence. Hands off.)

So, then, what should you call the movie? I have a few suggestions:

  • Ride: People love one-word titles. They’re easy to remember. Also, it’s both an imperative verb and a noun, so it both describes what you do and what the film is. It sounds strong, confident. Manly. This is my number-one recommendation.
  • The Cyclist: This title makes it sound like you are really the only cyclist in the world. Everyone else is just a pretender. There’s also a decent chance that many people will mistake “Cyclist” for “Cyclone,” and we’ll get a fair number of tickets purchased by the disaster-film crowd. Hey, let’s not be picky; let’s get butts in seats any way we can.
  • Lance Loves Sheryl: This one’s risky. If you call it this, we’ll need to make sure that the movie trailers emphasize the love story aspect of your movie. The only way we’ll get a greater than .000001% female audience for this film is if we make them think it’s a romantic comedy.

Pump Up the Plot

Your life makes an inspiring story, Lance. Born into a humble, one-parent home, you showed great initial promise as a professional cyclist. Then you got cancer, but suffered through the treatment to emerge a stronger, more disciplined rider. Once you started riding in the Tour de France, you caught fire and won seven times in a row — showing a drive and consistency that is perhaps unmatched in the history of sport.

This kind of storyline is what we in the biz like to call a “non-starter.”

You know what they’re going to do when we pitch this movie, Lance? They are going to tear us to shreds. Here are the easy questions they’ll ask, and how I propose we revise your screenplay so we can be ready for them:

  • Where’s the villain? Of course, cancer is the real villain in your life, but that doesn’t exactly work on film, does it? We need someone who is doing his level best to thwart you — not just in racing, but in your personal life. I suggest Jan Ullrich is the right character for this role. We’ll have to tweak his personality a little bit since Ullrich is in fact one of the nicest guys in the whole world, but the motivation part’s easy: with each loss to you, Ullrich becomes more and more bitter, until he (let’s say in 2002) he snaps and vows he will stop at nothing — nothing!!! — to defeat you. He commences a campaign of underhanded tactics all geared toward securing the top spot on the Tour de France podium.
  • You mean once he starts winning, he just keeps winning? There’s never a serious doubt that he’ll stop winning? I’m sorry, Lance, but the first act (early promise) of your screenplay is incredibly ordinary, and the second act (enduring cancer treatment) makes you seem more like of a movie prop than an exciting film protagonist. We can tell those parts of the story in about twenty minutes anyways. Then there’s the third act: Tour de France champion. It goes like this: You win the Tour de France. Then you win again. Then you win again. Then you win again. Then you win again. Then you win again. Then you win again. It gets a little predictable, Lance. Think about this for a second: Rocky lost in the first movie, and that’s the only one that was any good.
  • At the end of the movie he just RETIRES?! I’m sorry to use bold, italics, all-caps and excessive punctuation, Lance, but that’s the way they’re going to say it. I can’t think of a more anticlimactic end to a movie than retirement. I suggest that in the movie, after your final tour you vow to fight crime, or discover a cure to cancer, or something. Remember this Hollywood axiom, Lance: Any scene featuring a retirement must be followed with a scene wherein the newly-retired person is gunned down by his enemy. See any cop movie that has ever been made for an example of this.

PS: This is the first part of a new piece I’m writing; next I’ll tell Lance about parts of the screenplay I think he should shorten or remove, characters that need to be created, changed, and deleted, and what to do about that pesky "first wife problem." I’ll link to the full story as soon as it’s published. Presuming, of course, that I finish it (I haven’t), and that someone accepts it.

 

PPS: This has nothing to do with cycling, but I spent most of the weekend sitting beside my 12-year-old son, building a video game with him. Mostly I just sat and gave suggestions and ideas; he did the programming and artwork (ie, he did everything and I was a backseat driver). What a pleasure it is to watch your own kid be not just better, but lots better at something than you are.

We finished it yesterday evening; he’s now posted the game — called "Meteor Frenzy" — on his website, minigamemania.com. Click the screenshot below to go to his site and try it out (requires Flash). Be sure to record your high score (I’m pleased to say that I currently hold the number 1 ranking, but I’m sure that will change.).

 

 

Oh, and to all the old coots who play this and then come back with suggested corrections on spelling and grammar for the game: that was all intentional. Evidently, using English that feels like poorly-translated Japanese is all the rage with teenage programmers these days.

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