Ode To Tubulars

Ok, so this posting has nothing to do with being a Clydesdale cyclist....true. But, it's a slight diversion from the on going battle we large powerful folks find ourselves in with the mainstream bike industry. So, set down your battle axe, stop swinging your mace, and put those pikes on the ground....at least until you're done reading my little story about tubulars.

Big Bill (and AL)

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Way back when I was just a little bitty boy living in a box under the stairs in the corner of the basement of the house half a block down the street from Jerk's Bike shop
You know the place
well anyway, back then life was going swell and everything was just peachy

Except, of course, for the undeniable fact that every single morning
My mother would make me glue up a big ol' Conti tubular before breakfast

Awww - BIG MESSY TUBULAR
EVERY SINGLE MORNIN'
It was driving me crazy

I said to my mom
I said "Hey, mom, what's with always glueing tubulars?"
And my dear, sweet mother
She just looked at me like a cow looks at an oncoming train
And she leaned right down next to me
And she said "IT'S GOOD FOR YOU!!!!!"
And then she tied me to the wall and stuck a funnel in my mouth
And force fed me nothing but Tufo glue until I was twenty six and a half years old

That's when I swore that someday
Someday I would get outta that basement and travel to a magical, far away place
Where the sun is always shining and the air smells like warm clinchers
And the tubes are oh so fluffy
Where the shriners and the lepers ride Campy equiped bikes all day long
And anyone on the street will gladly shave your back for a nickel

Wacka wacka doodoo yeah

Well, let me tell you, people, it wasn't long at all before my dream came true
Because the very next day, a local radio station had this contest
To see who could correctly guess the number of Assos cream packs in the Jerk's........bibs
I was off by three, but I still won the grand prize
That's right, a first class one-way ticket to

France
France

Oh yeah
You know, I'd never been on a real airplane before
And I gotta tell ya, it was really great
Except that I had to sit between two large Albanian female cyclists with excruciatingly severe body odor
And the little kid in back of me kept throwin' up the whole time
The flight attendants ran out of Dr. Pepper and salted peanuts
And the in-flight movie was the American Flyers re-make with Pauly Shore
And, oh yeah, three of the airplane engines burned out
And we went into a tailspin and crashed into a hillside
And the plane exploded in a giant fireball and everybody died
Except for me
You know why?

'Cause I had my tray table up
And my seat back in the full upright position
Had my tray table up
And my seat back in the full upright position
Had my tray table up
And my seat back in the full upright position

Ah ha ha ha
Ah ha ha
Ahhhh

So I crawled from the twisted, burnin' wreckage
I crawled on my hands and knees for three full days
Draggin' along my big leather suitcase and my wheel bags
And my Legend Ti and my twelve-pound pack of clinchers
And my lucky, lucky autographed glow-in-the-dark 90 cm stem
But finally I arived at the world famous Chez Holiday Inn
Where the towels are oh so fluffy
And you can eat your Du fromage right out of the ashtrays if you wanna
It's OK, they're clean

Well, I checked into my room and I turned down the A/C
And I turned on the OLN
And I'm just about to eat that little chocolate mint on my pillow
That I love so very, very much when suddenly, there's a knock on the door

Well now, who could that be?
I say "Who is it?"
No answer
"Who is it?"
There's no answer
"WHO IS IT?!!"
They're not sayin' anything

So, finally I go over and I open the door and just as I suspected
It's some big fat Euro-pro with a Flock-Of-Seagulls haircut, a polka dot jersey, and only one nostril
Oh man, I hate it when I'm right
So anyway, he bursts into my room and he grabs my lucky stem
And I'm like "Hey, you can't have that"
"That stem's been just like a stem to me"
And he's like "Tough"
And I'm like "Give it"
And he's like "Make me"
And I'm like "'Kay"
So I grabbed his shaved leg and he grabbed my esophagus
And I bit off his ear and he chewed off my eyebrows
And I took out his appendix and he gave me a Rolf beating
Yes indeed, you better believe it
And somehow in the middle of it all, the phone got knocked off the hook
And twenty seconds later, I heard a farmiliar voice
And you know what it said?
I'll tell you what it said

It said
"If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again"
"If you need help, hang up and then dial your operator"
"If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again"
"If you need help, hang up and then dial your operator"

In France
France

Well, to cut a long story short, he got away with my stem
But I made a a solemn vow right then and there that I would not rest
I would not sleep for an instant until the fat Euro pro one-nostrilled man was brought to justice
But first, I decided to buy some more clinchers

So I got in my car and I drove over to the bike shop
And I walked on up to the guy behind the counter
And he says "Yeah, what do ya want?"
I said "You got any Conti's?"
He said "No, we're outta Conti's"
I said "You got any Kenda's?"
He said "No, we're outta Kenda's"
I said "You got any Blue Hutchinsons?"
He said "No, we're outta Blue Hutchinsons"
I said "You got any Michelins?"
He said "No, we're outta Michilens"
I said "You got any Vittorias?"
He said "No, we're outta Vittorias"
I said "You got any purple Vredestiens?"
He said "Wait a minute, I'll go check"
"NO, we're outta puple Vredestiens"
I said "Well, in that case - in that case, what do you have?"
He says "All I got right now is this box of one dozen starving, crazed weasels"
I said "OK, I'll take that"

So he hands me the box and I open up the lid and the weasels jump out
And they immediately latch onto my face and start bitin' me all over
(rabid gnawing sounds)
Oh man, they were just going nuts
They were tearin' me apart
You know, I think it was just about that time that a little ditty started goin' through my head"
I believe it went a little something like this . . .

Doh
Get 'em off me
Get 'em off me
Oh
No, get 'em off, get 'em off
Oh, oh God, oh God
Oh, get 'em off me
Oh, oh God
Ah, (more screaming)

I ran out into the street with these flesh-eating weasels all over my face
Wavin' my arms all around and just runnin', runnin', runnin'
Like a constipated weiner dog
And as luck would have it, that's exactly when I ran into the girl of my dreams
Her name was Zelda
She was a Norse Olympic cyclist with a slight overbite and hair the color of strained peaches
I'll never forget the first thing she said to me.
She said "Hey, you've got weasels on your face"

That's when I knew it was true love
We were inseperable after that
Aw, we ate together, we cycled together
We even shared the same jar of Assos chami cream
The world was our clincher
So we got married and we bought us a house
And had two beautiful children - Lance and Mario
Oh, we were so very very very happy, aw yeah

But then one fateful night, Zelda said to me
She said "Sweetie pumpkin? Do you wanna subscription to VeloNews?"
I said "Woah, hold on now, baby"
"I'm just not ready for that kinda commitment"
So we broke up and I never saw her again
But that's just the way things go

In France
France

Anyway, things really started lookin' up for me
Because about a week later, I finally achieved my lifelong dream
That's right, I got me a part-time job at The local Performance bike shop
I even made employee of the month after I put that grease fire out with my face
Aw yeah, everybody was pretty jealous of me after that
I was gettin' a lot of attitude

OK, like one time, I was out in the parking lot
Tryin' to remove excess tubular glue off a customers Nimbles with a sawsall
When I see this guy Marty tryin' to carry a big ol' Waterford up the stairs all by himself
So I, I say to him, I say "Hey, you want me to help you with that?"
And Marty, he just rolls his eyes and goes
"NO, I want you to cut off my arms and legs with a Campy chain tool"

So I did

And then he gets all indignant on me
He's like "Hey man, I was just being sarcastic"
Well, that's just great
How was I supposed to know that?
I'm not a mind reader for cryin' out loud
Besides, now he's got a really cute nickname - Campy-Boy
So what's he complaining about?

Say, that reminds me of another amusing anecdote
This guy comes up to me on the street and he tells me he hasn't had a flat in his tubulars for three days
Well, I knew what he meant
But just to be funny, I took a big bite out of one of his Vitoria Corsa's
And he's yellin' and screamin' and whining all over
And I'm like "Hey, come on, don'tcha get it?"
But he just keeps rolling around on the sidewalk, blathering, and screaming
(screaming sounds)
You know, just completely missing the irony of the whole situation
Man, some people just can't take a joke, you know?

Anyway, um, um, where was I?
Kinda lost my train of thought

Uh, well, uh, OK
Anyway I, I know it's kinda a roundabout way of saying it
But I guess the whole point I'm tryin' to make here is

I HATE TUBULARS!!!

That's all I'm really tryin' to say
And, by the way, if one day you happen to wake up
And find yourself in an existential quandry
Full of loathing and self-doubt
And wracked with the pain and isolation of your pitiful meaningless existence
At least you can take a small bit of comfort in knowing that
Somewhere out there in this crazy old mixed-up universe of ours
There's still a little place you can buy clinchers...it's called

France

I said "F!!!!" (F!!!!)
"R!!!!" (R!!!!)
"A!!!!" (A!!!)
um......
"NCE!" (NCE)

FRANCE FRANCE FRANCE FRANCE FRANCE
FRANCE FRANCE FRANCE FRANCE FRANCE
FRANCE FRANCE FRANCE FRANCE FRANCE!!!

William