I never was, nor do I aspire to be a bicycle messenger. However, I spent some time living in the East Bay, rooming with a San Franciscan messenger. And as a result, I was unwittingly plunged headfirst into their culture… which was accurately described to me as being “the rock star lifestyle of the cycling world,” in that bicycle messengers are feared by grandmas, idolized by youth, and guilty of trashing hotel rooms… all of which I can’t personally verify. But I’ve heard stories.
I do enjoy the bicycle though, in all its forms (especially the purest), cultures, and subcultures… including, of course, bike messenger culture. Clearly, this stems (almost entirely) from my west coast inundation. And even though I have long since moved back to the east coast, I’ve maintained a sort of passive interest in the goings-on within the bicycle messenger genre of bikedom. Why? Well, I guess it makes me feel ever-so-slightly less removed from the west coast and my bike messenger friend.
And that is why I hate Old Navy. Good night.
Wait. I think I left something out. Oh right… In my passive interest in the goings-on of the bike messenger community, I stumbled upon this: “Can’t think of a sub-culture that hates to be co-opted more than bike messengers. Nothing worse than seeing your lifestyle turned into an Old Navy tshirt.” Yep. Old Navy has taken the bike messenger rock star lifestyle, condensed it, mainstreamed it, and printed it on a faux-vintage t-shirt.
And that is why I hate Old Navy. Good night.
(Ahh… see? My hatred makes so much more sense now. And for the record, I don’t really hate Old Navy. It’s not their fault. I think Murphy’s Law of Cool Things states that, “All cool things will, eventually and unfortunately, be exploited by large corporations (that just don’t get it) for the specific intent of mainstream consumption.)
“I am, incidentally, Honorary President of the American Humanist Association, having succeeded the late, great science fiction writer Isaac Asimov in that totally functionless capacity. We had a memorial service for Isaac a few years back, and I spoke and said at one point, ‘Isaac is up in heaven now.’ It was the funniest thing I could have said to an audience of humanists. I rolled them in the aisles. It was several minutes before order could be restored. And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say, ‘Kurt is up in heaven now.’ That’s my favorite joke.”
