Back in July, when the crotches were hot and the tempers were hotter, you may recall that a Nü-Fred's composure failed catastrophically and he lashed out at a pedestrian (and, by extension, his parents, his roommate, and the world) with a u-lock. Well, now that it's cooler out people are a bit more relaxed. However, while you might be tempted to think that the streets are safer since the potential for heat-induced outbursts is lower, the truth is that this may be the most dangerous time of year.
Even though it's starting to get cold, it's not yet cold enough to drive the Nü-Freds permanently indoors. Moreover, the Nü-Freds who have survived are now fortified by the fact that they've made it this far, and in their minds they're no longer Nü-Freds at all--rather, they think they're hardened street warriors. They've long ago (and by "long ago" I mean last August) mastered the art of tire repair and fixed cog removal. Their saddles have moved from tilted to level. And, most significantly, they now refuse to call their parents back in the Bay Area every night to assure them they got home OK.
While a little confidence can be a good thing, in the world of the Nü-Fred this confidence has a tendency to swell up into overconfidence or even recklessness. Emboldened by both their own survival and a steady diet of idiotic fixed-gear videos consumed during the workday, they're now at that stage where they consider riding in traffic a sport and stopping for traffic signals tantamount to having a vagina. Unfortunately, their skill level is still not in concert with their experience, and the results can be disastrous (or at least pathetic) to watch.
I was thinking about this very thing (Nü-Fred overconfidence, not having a vagina) yesterday evening as I rode through midtown Manhattan and watched various riders careering pointlessly from lane to lane and skidding demonstratively despite the ready accessibility of a brake. At one point, one of these riders passed me (on a bicycle with a freewheel, as it happens) and approached a light that had just turned red. Clearly, he was going to run it, lest some office worker in a rush to get to Penn Station think he had a vagina. "That's not a very good idea," I thought, as he dodged a couple of pedestrians, entered the intersection, and ran right into a bike messenger.
What happened next is what distinguishes the Nü-Fred from a more seasoned cyclist. Before the messenger had finished picking himself up off the pavement, the Nü-Fred just rode away.
Naturally, the messenger was incensed, but naturally also the Nü-Fred was too cowardly to interact with somebody who actually does what he pretends to do. Of course, part of this may also have had to do with the fact that this wasn't one of those "lifestyle" messengers who has lots of body art, wears various hand-stitched holsters, and rides a $1,000 frame. Rather, he was one of those boring workaday messengers in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt riding an old mountain bike. Had he been the former, perhaps the Nü-Fred might have been compelled to express solidarity by at least making sure he didn't damage the "lifestyle" messenger's "work bike." But since he was the latter, he just kept going in the same way you might if you tried to toss your coffee cup into a city garbage can and missed.
http://bikesnobnyc.blogspot.com/2009...ssic-fred.html
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