Toleration

What would you think if you saw a grown man going down the street dressed head-to-toe in pink lycra? Would it be:

1. Must be a refugee from an 80's hair metal band
2. Is there a gay bar in the neighborhood?
3. Is Cirque de Soleil in town?
4. Hey! Its Dan Hill!

Note that only the last option has happy, friendly associations for everyone.

Next you see a GROUP of guys going down the street in pink lycra. Would you think:

1. Oh lord, Twisted Oomlot is doing another reunion tour.
2. Is the Gay Pride parade today?
3. Are there no laws against groups of circus people and/or French-Canadians larger than one?
4. Does Dan Hill have brothers?

Again, the negative associations outweigh the positive, no matter how much you may think of the Hill brothers. Or the Gay Pride parade.

Now, look at the above situations from the point of view of someone who doesn't know Dan Hill, someone who has never ridden 80 miles on a bicycle and therefore doesn't know the kind of heinous chaffing that will occur without lycra clothes, someone who doesn't appreciate the rich history of outrageous clothing in the pro cycling peloton. That, my friends, is how much of the country, particularly the Midwest, sees us. Weirdoes. Show-offs. Wannabe Euros.

The last tag- Wannabe Euros- is especially troublesome. It seems that every discussion involving Europe leads inexorably to French-bashing. As a nation we love to hate other nations and of all the nations we hate we hate France the most. Don't ask me why. A common explanation has to do with rating a nation by its performance in its most recent World War. (Yet we do not hate Poland, which not only collapsed in approx. 17 minutes in WWII but spent most of the last two millenia being overrun by almost anyone who could ride a horse and carry a pointed stick.) Perhaps Parisians have been rude to the uncles of everyone in the U.S. Maybe their love of philosophy, art, French films, and Jerry Lewis strikes us as uppity. I simply don't know. But I do know there is a very big bike race in France, and we are bike racers, and we suffer by association.

You're probably asking yourself, "Why am I reading this #@!&* ?" If not, you may be asking yourself, "Cap'n Dan, how can I improve this situation?" You know how. By being a good ambassador for the sport. By coming out of the closet at work and in your country clubs and water ballet classes and saying, "Yes, I AM a bicycle racer. Its a great sport!" By waving to people out on the road: runners, farmers, drivers, even triathletes. By not riding like you're 12 and blowing through red lights and stopsigns. By buying stuff at the gas staions and restuarants we stop at and chatting with the staff instead of just smelling up their bathroom (I can do a lot better there myself). Lastly, by being a little more tolerant ourselves.

If you thought this was a great defense of 80's hair metal music that's OK. No need to read it again...

Happy Trails,

Cap'n Dan