The state of things

I love Reverend and the Makers. I love their lyrics. My favourite is 'The State of Things' which I listened to on my way home the other night, after I'd helped out on the Phoenix Bike Ride in Leicester (300 or so kids cycling in to the city centre from all over Leicester).

The thing about the 'State of things' is that you could listen to the lyrics and let it get you down if you wanted to:

Dad's shout at lads so they foul number seven
There's no need for fighting; they're only eleven
Mmm, a little introduction to the state of things
What of the woman, who stands by her fella,
Despite the bruises brought on by the Stella

But on this occasion, as I'm riding home from the Phoenix Ride, I am smiling, safe in the knowledge that the state of things are not that bad, as it's been a bloody brilliant day, and 300 kids from all different races and religions, have been neither shouting nor fighting, they have just been cycling. The Phoenix Ride is the kind of event where even the Daily Mail would be hard pushed to find a negative.

We have since of course had the Jubilee, and this time even the Guardian seemed positively Royalist about it all. Forget chicken soup - all you need is bunting and street parties for the soul. We have had a Jubilee boat parade thingy (Queen on a barge) and tonight we have a Jubilee concert thingy (Queen* on a roof).

Yesterday I led a Jubilee bike ride thingy for British Cycling. It started raining from about midnight the night before and didn't stop all day. It was 9 degrees (which I was reliably informed by my fellow Ride Leader was the exact same temperature as the actual Coronation 60 years ago). The difference being, the Queen was wearing ermine robes rather than mincing about on a Merida Glide in the pouring rain. Cue twitter jokes about 'reign' from fellow cyclists who were presumably on the sofa with a beer at this point.

A couple of people still braved the ride anyway, so at least we weren't completely reigned off.

So anyway - Jubilee = (to me at least) more proof that the state of things ain't that bad. This weather though (rain plus rain plus occasionally two day mini heat waves) has not been kind to my new white pedals.

If you remember, I had taken out a second mortgage to order some metallic pink pedals/ geary things. To my horror, they arrived and didn't fit my bike. I was persuaded to go for white instead, which I did, and am now riding around on the bike equivalent of the Orange Ford Focus they show at the breaks on Sky Sports News. I love my white pedals though...

...apart from the cleaning. After day 2 I sort of gave up. And I keep scraping them on kerbs and things, causing me to swear aloud and make old ladies 'tut'. Perhaps that's the state of things today, 35 year old women who should know better effing and blinding in public.

*Elton John, not the actual queen. Please note this is an Eltonphobic, rather than homophobic comment. I won't be watching this concert, in case I have Carrie like powers which I have not yet discovered and manage to telekinetically push Elton off the roof. Or maybe I will....

Lassoed on the A50

It was supposed to be my day off today, but ended up having to work. And it was the sunniest of sunny days - gutted.

But what’s better than a day off on a sunny day? Easy – the feeling of leaving work after getting stuff done, when it’s still sunny and Friday’s in the air even though it’s Monday.

So I cycled up the cycle path alongside the A50 towards Leicester determined to do something, with my sunny day early release - even if that something involved just sitting in a pub with a pint. But my bike gears keep slipping, usually when I’m ‘standing up in the saddle’ and on the A50 they did so in spectacular fashion, causing me to almost leave the cycle path, cross the grass verge and career onto a busy dual carriageway. I was saved (and nearly killed) by my front brake, which stopped me VERY suddenly, caused the front wheel to propel me forward, bits of bike hitting bits of body. It felt a bit like whiplash and being lassoed at the same time. For the record, I have never been whipped or lassoed*.

The same whiplash/ lasso effect accident happened I cycled out of the Rally, and I had been getting a bit complacement on the cycle in, thinking ooh – gears haven’t slipped for a while. So the something that would’ve been a pint, fast became a ride into Leicester to get my bike looked at by Future Cycles in St Martin’s Square. The very helpful man in the shop explained that my gears were knackered, if fact there were barely any teeth left on ‘em. He priced up replacement parts for me.

But just lately I have been a tiny bit obsessed by buying anything that’s pink metallic to customise my bike (so far only a bottle holder, bell and dust caps – not that obsessed.) Anyway when all these new gears were priced up, I saw the window of opportunity that had opened up – I could get pink metallic stuff – hurrah! And I could pay twice the price for my vanity – double hurrah!

So that something that could have easily been a Yellow Card pint of Fosters in the Soar Point at £2.15 had rapidly become spending more on some fancy pink bits for my bike than a new bike would’ve cost. But I’m such a bike geek that I know it’s worth it.

I walked home from town – YES, WALKED. Earphones in, music on. And the first tune that played? Lasso by Phoenix. TUUUUUUUUNNNNE.

*Though I did work at a rodeo in 2001, probably the coolest job I’ve ever had.