Bruce Gordon memorial

June 18, 2019

Image courtesy Sean Walling.

A memorial in honor of Bruce Gordon will be held June 30 in his hometown of Petaluma, Calif.

Bike rides start at 8 a.m. at McNear Park and conclude there at 11 a.m. The memorial starts at noon and wraps at 5 p.m. There will be a potluck, beer, a display of Bruce’s bikes, and a PA in case any of yis would like to deliver a few words about Himself. He would have plenty to say about you, so don’t be shy.

Attendees are encouraged to cycle to the park.

For more information, see Bruce’s Facebook page. And thanks to Sean Walling of Soulcraft for spreading the word.

‘Revel in your time.’

June 17, 2019

Having more fun than you. Especially if you work in the bike biz.
Photo “shared” from Revel

Ho boy. “Like biking without the work.” Thanks so much, Revel.

I’ll just put the bicycle industry over here, shall I? Next to the buggy whips, Linotypes and rotary-dial phones?

Anybody seen any journalism on what we do with the batteries in all this lovely “green” e-shit when they fail, as batteries do? Can they be recycled? Do they wind up down in WIPP? Or do we just launch them into space?

Wallflowers

June 16, 2019

Bike with bouquet.

No fathers around here today. Herself’s is gone, mine is goner, and as far as I know there are no young baldheads with attitudes wondering whom to blame for their shortcomings. So I went for a Not-a-Father’s Day ride today, down to Balloon Fiesta Park and back.

For the way home I chose the Domingo Baca and Paseo del Norte bike paths, which I hadn’t ridden in forever.

And look! Even though I’m not a daddy-o, somebody’s kid gave me flowers.

Summer is coming

June 14, 2019

One rarely finds a rose at the bottom of a barrel.

The Adobe Throne is liable to be a tad toasty today. It was already 70 at 6 a.m., and we’re expecting a high in the 90s.

The past couple of mornings I’ve been opening windows and doors to let the cool morning breeze wash the stuffy night out of El Rancho Pendejo.

A bit of a breeze seems to be blowing in DeeCee as well. I see one bloated, belligerent bullshitter is headed for the exit, though the Maester of Mendacity remains. His dragon seems to be in a bit of a pickle, too, but there’s no sign she’ll be flapping off into the sunset anytime soon.

And even if she did follow Sneery Spice into the private sector, which none of these people ever really left, would it really matter, with Beelzebozo’s Mickey D farts stinking up the Oval Office?

We’re not on the good side of the ill winds, no matter how many windows get flung open.

 

Sign of the Times

June 13, 2019

My ships keep sailing, catching fire, burning to the waterline, and sinking.

Sigh. As if this racket wasn’t tough enough already.

Freedom is slavery

June 10, 2019

The Masi Speciale Randonneur, with a Tubus Cargo Classic rack, up against the Wall of Science.

Herself buggered off for a long weekend starting last Thursday, this time to the American Heartland for a pal’s wedding, so I was at liberty for a few days.

Well, not exactly.

I had to do battle with the dishwasher (!), make my own coffee (!!) and feed and water the cats (!!!).

Also, I noticed that the litter boxes still refuse to empty themselves. When might I expect delivery of my Turd-B-Gon 9000®? Never? Does never work for me?

No, it does not.

But still, yeah, freedom, amirite?

I got to sleep in until 6 a.m. most days, did little cooking and less shaving, and the riding of the bikes continued unabated. The Masi Speciale Randonneur remains under review for Adventure Cyclist, and in honor of Bruce Gordon and framebuilders everywhere I rode my Nobilette and a Steelman as palate cleansers.

Herself got back yesterday afternoon, after a short delay caused by evil weather. Storms beat the snot out of Dallas, where she was changing planes, and ever since she touched down the wind has been flogging us here in the Duke City. Up north, my man Hal Walter reports ice on the vehicles, the canceling of the Hardrock 100 due to historic snowfall and avalanches, and the rerouting of the Leadville marathon.

All in all, it looks like a fine day to stay indoors and push pixels around.

R.I.P., Bruce Gordon

June 7, 2019

The SOPWAMTOS parade, with Himself in full fez regalia.

Well, goddamnit, I hope the Universe isn’t going to make a habit of this, snatching up all the interesting people before we’re finished with them.

This time it took Bruce Gordon, the acerbic framebuilder and one of the Self-Appointed Benevolent Co-Dictators for Life of the Society of People Who Actually Make Their Own Shit (SOPWAMTOS).

My Golden Toiddy

My Golden Toiddy for (what else?) Excellence In Bad Taste.

Back In the Day® Adventure Cyclist honcho Mike Deme and I tried to get Bruce to lay a bike on us for review purposes but we could never make it happen, possibly because Bruce was reluctant to work up a machine for the likes of us when it was tough enough to move product to the actual paying customers. Jagoffs, poseurs and wanna-bes are to be found in abundance, especially among the working press, and their pockets are notoriously shallow.

In the end I had to settle for a couple of SOPWAMTOS T-shirts, a Golden Toiddy from 1995 (I think), and his Rock n’ Road tires, which I still run on the Voodoo Nakisi. I’m pretty sure I paid retail for everything save the Golden Toiddy, too.

The last time I saw Bruce may have been at Interbike 2013.

“We were standing in line at dark-thirty for a cup of Starbutt’s finest and got straight to the kvetching, as a guy will before java is made available in a 20-year-old shopping mall masquerading as a casino-hotel. And afterward, too, come to think of it.

Well, some of us, anyway. One of these years Bruce and I should bring a small square of Astroturf and a couple of patio chairs to the show and while away the hours hollering at people to get the hell off our lawn.

I hope Deme has the Astroturf and patio chairs ready. He’s got company.

• Updated June 13: The hometown paper writes Bruce’s obit.

The Doctor is out

June 6, 2019

R.I.P., Dr. John, a.k.a. Mac Rebennack. From “Gris-Gris” to Popeye’s Chicken to Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem in just 77 years? I can’t top that, me. The Next World Orchestra just keeps getting biggerer and betterer.

‘The awful waste and destruction of war’

June 6, 2019

“That’s All, Brother,” a restored C-47 that flew on D-Day. Read more about the project here.

In case the spectacle of a belligerent chickenshit with a three-word vocabulary representing the United States at the annual remembrance of the Normandy invasion just doesn’t do it for you, here are a few alternatives for your own personal observance of D-Day:

• The Poetry Foundation has compiled a selection of poems from and about World War II.

• HBO is airing “The Cold Blue,” a documentary about the men of the Eighth Air Force, featuring freshly restored footage by Oscar-winning director William Wyler and a score by Richard Thompson.

The New York Times gives us a remembrance of Ernie Pyle, the correspondent who brought the war home, until it finally took him.

The New Yorker reprints a three-part piece on Normandy by its own war scribe, A.J. Liebling.

• And finally, 1st Lt. Harold J. O’Grady‘s war was elsewhere, but you can read about the biscuit bombers of New Guinea in “Back Load,” a history of the 433rd Troop Carrier Group.

How many moments in a day?

June 3, 2019

The Soma Double Cross in light-shopper configuration.

It being World Bicycle Day, I thought I’d go for a run, then do some light resistance training.

I’m funny that way. Maybe not.

Still, days, weeks, months, and years don’t much interest me. I’m more about moments.

Anyway, the run was delightful. Lots of flowers around and about, on cacti and elsewhere. Headwind out, tailwind home. It was already 71 degrees by the time I started pounding ground at 8:30 in the a.m., so when I got home and started lifting I actually had to crack a window on the shady side of the house, let a little cool air into the “gym.”

I did get out on a bike, eventually. Herself was out of rosé, and since no less an authority than the United Nations has described the bicycle as “a simple, affordable, reliable, clean and environmentally fit sustainable means of transportation,” I decided to cycle up to the grocery to fetch some.

Rosé, not bicycles. Bicycles we got, and then some.

Didn’t see a single grizzly, but then I wasn’t on a mountain bike. Anyway, I was focused on the automobiles, which are a good deal more numerous than grizzlies and even deadlier.

Speaking of deadly, there was a time when Apple could’ve nailed me with a new Mac Pro. But this ain’t it. Doing my little bit of business with one of these bad boys would be like using Thor’s Mjölnir as a tack hammer.