Tag Archives | style

Newsboy Racing

newsboy

Long before newspapers (remember them) started being delivered by grizzled, cigarette smoking bald men hurling bagged papers out the windows of their muffler-less, rusted out Chevy Novas to help finance their overdue child support*, and well before Kevin Bacon created bike messenger chìc and ushered in a quinquennial wave of movies, documentaries and TV shows about the trade, there were newsboys.

Kids hawking newspapers for coin, many delivering stacks of papers via bicycles, all over cities and towns around the world. Like their great, great grandsons, some–like the lad above– apparently chose to smoke as well. Ah, what’s a lung or two, as long as you’re riding bikes.

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Après Race Essentials I

swordT

OK, now shit is starting to get better in my mental dojo! I just found The Sword Black River t-shirt. This is going to be perfect to wear après race this summer and will look awesome as I wield my (yet to be purchased) Viking sword at throngs of recovering racers with one hand and hold aloft a goblet of strong ale (or reasonable facsimile) in the other while screaming “MAKE YOUR STAND WITH THE GREAT HOUND, THE FRONTIER IS LOST! BLACK WATERS LIE BEFORE YOU, TOGETHER YOU CROSS!!” as Jake The Dog walks menacingly at my side (until he falls asleep in a pool of his own jowls).

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Breaking Rules

sal

There aren’t many artists, musicians, or sports figures that I would honestly care to meet and NO political figures at all (swarmy bastards!) I always fear that they would be total assholes and ruin any fondness I ever had for their art or abilities. Why ruin it?

The photographer (and painter) Saul Leiter would be an exception to this rule.

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Vintage Dirt Racin’

I recently came upon some photos of what is described as vintage BMX racing in Holland circa the 1950s. I have never raced BMX, however I do race mountain bikes (although be it with less and less frequency and less and less success) and have also done a few utterly forgettable and regrettable cross races, so it’s hard not to have the utmost appreciation for these kids ripping it up in the dirt. Not to mention they are doing it with impeccable style. To hell with skinsuits, lycra and helmets, I’m going helmetless with a big dose of flannel, leather shoes and knee socks from now on!

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