Cycling and Smoking

I have never smoked although growing up in the 1940s and 1950s it was an era when it seemed everyone smoked including many cyclists.

It was always strange to me to witness a finishing sprint in a race and then see many of the riders collapse exhausted at the side of the road and immediately light up a cigarette, usually followed by a bout of coughing.

The picture below I sure you have seen many times. It is from the early days of the Tour de France and shows the riders taking a cigarette break.

Below is a modern day re-enactment of the above famous picture. Note the guy in the second row, center crouching down, and the rider further back holding up his water bottle.

In 1978 I was lucky enough to see Eddie Merckx race in London towards the end of his career. I was surprised to see him light up a cigarette at the finish line of the event. In later years I saw Merckx several times at various trade shows throughout the 1980s and again witnessed him smoking.

This is how Eddie looks today.

Just kidding, that is not Eddie Merckx.

I couldn’t find any pictures of Eddie Merckx smoking, but here’s a shot (Below.) of Italian pro cyclist Mario Cipollini taking a drag while riding. Cipollini’s career highlights include World Road Championship and the Milan-San Remo in 2002.

Of course the whole key is, you have to start young.

The rest is just training.

10 useful tips for car drivers

1.)    If you see a cyclist ahead and you can’t pass because of opposing traffic, resist the urge to run over him, even though you can. You know what a mess it can make of your car if you hit a deer, a cyclist will probably do even more damage.

2.)    Don’t throw stuff at cyclists. In some states there is a $250 fine for this, plus there is a $1,000 fine for littering, it can add up. If you feel you must throw something at a cyclist, think of the environment, throw something that is biodegradable.

3.)    Don’t waste time thinking of clever things to yell at cyclists as you drive by at 50mph. Just shout, "Garble, garble, garble, fucking road." It is all they will hear anyway

4.)    If you are approaching a right turn, slow and wait behind the cyclist ahead of you. If you can’t do this, at least be consistent and race ahead of other cars, then cut them off by turning right in front of them.

5.)    Use the buddy system. If you can’t resist the urge to text while driving have a buddy ride along to look out for cyclists.

6.)    Pedestrians can also be annoying. they will not stay on one side of the road and are likely to interrupt your texting by crossing over to the other side at some point.

7.)    Resist the urge to lay on the horn. If you can’t do this, consider fitting a second horn inside the car a few feet from your head. This will give you a realistic feel of how incredibly fucking loud your car horn is.

8.)    Watch your blind spot. Looking in store windows or at pretty girls as you drive by creates a huge blind spot ahead of you. Cyclists have an annoying habit of riding in this blind spot.

9.)    If a cyclist is riding in the middle of the lane, it could be because he will not ride within five feet of a parked car. (The door zone.) If you expect cyclists to ride within inches of parked cars, set an example by driving within inches of parked cars.

If more cars did this and removed a few car doors, and grazed a few knuckles as a result, it would help by reminding people to look before opening a car door. At the present time cyclists hitting car doors does not have the same impact.

10.)  Avoid hitting cyclists by simply going around them. If you should hit one because he happened to be there when you were applying makeup, don’t say “He swerved in front of me.” Simply tell the police officer, “I didn’t see him.”

This is becoming the more widely accepted defense, after all it is the truth, and a driver can’t be expected to see everything. (Don’t try the “I didn’t see it” defense if you run a stop sign. For some strange reason this does not work.)  

Where am I from?

I came to the United States 43 years ago in January 1979, I don’t remember the exact date, just that it was January. I was 42 years old, a few weeks short of my 43rd. birthday. Today, in January 2022 I am 85 years old a few weeks shy of my 86th. birthday, therefore, I have reached the point where I have lived longer in America than I did in my native England.  

However, strangers ask me constantly, “Where are you from?” As soon as I open my mouth to speak, and they hear my accent. Over the years my accent has become bastardized, and people will try to guess. (Usually wrong.) Are you Australian? Or Irish or Scottish.

Then when I tell them I am from England, the next question is, “What brought you here?”  And before long I am getting into my whole life story.

So where am I from? How do I answer that when I have lived here 43 years, and the person asking is often much younger than 43 and therefore I have been here longer than them?

My father was Irish and left his homeland for England aged nineteen yet retained his Irish accent the rest of his life, so there is little hope for me to change at this late stage. It can lead to some to some interesting conversations, but most times it is a casual meeting with someone I will never see again, and it is just plain annoying.

One cannot complain about anything or get in an argument. If I do, I am told immediately, get back to Australia, or wherever it is you came from. I am left with the feeling that I don’t belong, and it is a helpless feeling. I get what racism must feel like, only that must be much worse, especially if the victim is born here.

Growing up in England I never remember asking foreigners where they were from unless I got to know them well. Now I think of it, even today if I run into someone with an obvious foreign accent, I do not ask them where they are from. In most cases it has no relevance.

I have a friend who is Swedish. I never knew until I had known him for some time, and it came up in conversation one day. “But you have no accent,” I told him. “I know” he said, I learned English in America, so I learned it with an American accent. He never gets asked “Where are you from?”

So, I am trying to come up with an explanation for my English accent that might be shorter, and more fun than my actual life story. The conversation might go:

“Where are you from?”

“New Jersey.”

“But you have an accent.”

“Yes, my father was in the Air Force, and we were stationed just outside London, England. I was 16 at the time, and the guys flying back and forth between the States and the UK were bringing a lot of weed over. I had quite a good little business, selling it to the local kids. When my father had to return, I ran away from home and lived in London for the next ten years. I was eventually arrested for dealing drugs and deported back to the US. By then it was the 1960s at the height of the British Music Invasion, and a British accent opened a lot of doors for me. Also got me laid a lot. Now I’m stuck with it.”

“That’s really interesting.”

“It is. Watch for it on Netflix.”

"Do you want fries with that?"

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Blogger's Block

Sitting at the keyboard
Staring at the screen,
A case of bike blog writer’s block
The worst I’ve ever seen.

To write exclusively about
A subject like a bike,
And try to keep it interesting
The stuff that people like.

Is really not that easy
And like my Momma said,
There always will be days like these
When there’s nothing in my head.

The bicycle so simple
You push one pedal down,
The other one comes up again
And the wheels go round and round.

Have I reached the limit?
Is there nothing more to say?
Will it all come back again
If I wait another day?

Because I was fortunate
To build a bike or two
Doesn’t mean that what I say
Is absolutely true

I try to write about the things
I've learned throughout the years
And stimulate the grey stuff
In between your ears

Often I will write about
Something or another
Some of you will share my view
And then there will be others

Who express a different opine
With words that are quite strong
But often there’s no black or white
There is no right or wrong

For example if make you think
About safety when you ride
Then does it really matter
If opinions collide?

Better our opinions
Than your head on solid metal
And you're just a statistic
When all the dust has settled

I'm not always a bike guru
With advice that cyclists seek
I’ll be the Devil’s Advocate
On a muddy two-way street

If my simple inane writings
Touch one reckless soul
Make them think about their safety
Then I’ve reached my goal

Just get out and ride your bike
Be safe along the way
Live to ride but ride to live
Enjoy another day.

If by chance you are still reading
Maybe I’ve entertained,
Made something out of nothing
And my posting’s not in vain.


Please check back again, after this it can only get better.

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Are Socks the New Necktie?

It used to be men wore suits and neckties, the tie was the way a man expressed his individuality, often his personality. Men had large collections of ties and would choose a different one each day, often his choice would reflect his mood that day.

If there was an important business meeting, job interview, or promotion in the offing, the choice of tie for that day was extremely important. Men would seek tie choice advice from wives, friends and colleagues.

Today, apart from certain businesses and formal wear, men wear suits less often. Some men don’t even own a suit.

If you see a man in a suit at McDonalds’ or riding a bus, he is probably on his way to court.

It used to be if a man wore a brown suit, it would be worn with brown shoes and socks.

The whole ensemble would match and blend in. Today it's okay to wear brown shoes with a dark blue or grey suit.

On occasions it seems men will wear a formal suit and tie and wear a pair if bright multi-color socks.

One doesn’t see the socks until the wearer sits down. They are a surprise item. 

I always think, ‘Wow, that man has balls. He is either the boss, very good at what he does, and therefore indispensable, or he’s a celebrity.’

With more and more people abandoning the suit and tie altogether, and opting for casual wear, it occurred to me that without the necktie to express individuality, a person can do so by his choice of socks.

This thought came to me when I was contacted by Ozone Socks who asked if I would review their socks on my blog.

They offered to send me a free pair, and although it is nice to get free stuff, I opted to buy a pair of my own choice. If I am to wear socks that express my personality, then I need to choose them.

The socks I chose are mid-calf, I was impressed that they stay up but are not at all tight, they were light and extremely comfortable.

Check out the large selection of men’s and women’s socks at Ozone, the art of socks.

By the way, I took a selfie of my own socks, (See top picture.) not easy without a selfie stick. Just goes to show for an old guy, I’m still pretty flexible.

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