Friday, January 31, 2014

"Abby" Something

While out and about running errands a few days ago I happened to wander into Marshalls a purveyor of discount goods mostly clothes and household stuff.  While looking at some shirts I noticed a bike wheel poking out from around the corner of my aisle, at first I assumed it was just someones jogging stroller but upon getting closer I saw it was a bike.  And then as turned the corner I saw there were 3 bikes a couple BMX bikes and  what I saw was a folder.  "Odd I have never seen bikes in here before" I thought to myself and then I went to inspect the folder more closely.  I have a soft spot for folders and have thought about getting one for some time, although I am more inclined to get a 1970s Peugeot type of folder rather than something modern.  Something like this.
Something vintage and in need of a little TLC.  I admire the form and function of the Brompton but don't have that kind of bank or a set of tweeds.

So when I saw this department store folder I was interested enough to take a closer look.
I am sure my clever readership, can you call 2 people a readership? saw what I did.  My first thought was that the front wheel was just turned 180 degrees but no the fork and brakes are aligned correctly which leaves only one possibility.

Now I have certainly had my share of mechanical mishaps and screw-ups but I do try to check any bike I work on thoroughly before I put it up for sale.  I also realize that some poor schlep of a cashier who doesn't know a wrench from a screwdriver, and isn't paid or trained to, was asked to put this bike together and I don't really have the heart to blame them.  For some reason the whole thing just makes me sad, and also resolved not to buy a department store bike, even one discounted to $280.

On that note the long suffering Fiorelli is now in the bike stand.  It has some issues, which I hope to resolve and live to tell the tale about but I also reserve the right to switch to a more straightforward project should the Fiorelli become too much for my meager talents.

Until next time Ride.Smile.Repeat.

PS if you are wondering about the title of this post check out this video clip the reference starts about 50 seconds in.


  1. I don't even have to check the video. Maybe because it is from my favorite all time comedy movie, or, I'm just an old guy, or Abby Normal should be my name.

  2. Right there with you I have seen the movie countless times and the bookcase scene, and many others, have me in tears from laughing every damn time. Put ze candle Baack! Genius

  3. Well, fellows, in typical TPC fashion I gotta one-up ya. Sometime in or around 1975 me and College Buddy were cruising around Miami in my '58 Chevy Biscayne (see the reference?) smoking stuff that was not legal but not much bothered with back then, in MIAMI (ref.) But then, way down just outside Coconut Grove we saw a cool little dive bar that had air-conditioning. '58 Chevys do not have air-conditioning and Miami in July is HOT. So we went on into this bar and drank so many cheap rum and cokes and put so many quarters (!) in the jukebox that driving back up to Ft. Lauderdale was a highly questionable enterprise and when we finally exited the saloon there was a cop writing a ticket for the baby blue old Chevy parked there next to the fire hydrant.

    For whatever reason this sent us into what used to be called paroxysms of laughter. The cop, less than amused, said that if I pulled forward into the legal space in front of where we were parked and stayed there two hours, he would not shoot or arrest us.

    So we did. He got back on his motorcycle and yelled "I'm not kidding as he pulled away. We decided to continue our Cheech and Chong routine and rolled another one. Then it got hot. And then it got hotter and College Buddy said "Hey, there's a movie theater right across the street! There's a matinee! Let's go in there!"

    "Some kind of stupid cowboy movie, looks like," I said. "Whatever. At least it's air-conditioned."

    Yeah. I still suffer from abdominal pains from laughing so hard that long ago afternoon.