It's been snowing for 52 consecutive hours at this point in time. Fifty two hours. I'm pretty sure that both papal conclaves and wars have transpired in less time. Fifty two hours is how long it took Maurice Garin to win the Paris-Brest-Paris bike race back in 1901. Two years later he won the first Tour de France. In 1904, he won again but was stripped of the title after being accused of cheating. Some things never change. But holy shit was cycling awesome back then. Listen to this:
A bunch of fanatics wielded sticks and shouted insults, setting on the other riders: Maurice and César Garin got a succession of blows, the older brother [Maurice] was hit in the face with a stone. Soon there was general mayhem: "Up with Faure! Down with Garin! Kill them!" they were shouting. Finally cars arrived and the riders could get going thanks to pistol shots. The aggressors disappeared into the night.
Misbehaviour was rife too between riders and nine were thrown out during the race for, among other things, riding in or being pulled by cars . . . Stories spread of riders spreading tacks on the road to delay rivals with punctures, of riders being poisoned by each other or by rival fans. Lucien Petit-Breton said he complained to an official that he had seen a rival hanging on to a motorcycle, only to have the cheating rider pull out a revolver.
I don't know about you, but I wouldn't miss a tenth of a second of the Tour de France if this kind of thing was still going on. That's the kind of cheating I can get behind . . . good old fashioned tacks to the tires and beatings from the crowd. That's much more respectable than abusing testosterone or blood doping. They don't gain advantages like they used to (*lazily wags finger . . . pokes you in the chest*).
You know who still delivers like he always has? Ronnie F'in Cheetahtoes, that's who. Take a look at this, sir:
I think we can all agree that a totem pole of Modelo cans in a cross section of snow really tells the story of this storm in a very compelling way. This should be the official unit of measurement going forward for all meteorologists. Forget arbitrary measurement terms like "inches" and "feet," tell us how much snow we're going to get in Modelo cans. That's the kind of thing that will always resonate with us common folk, regardless of our origin. You are a visionary, Mr. Cheetahtoes.
And hey, if booze isn't your thing and you would prefer a measurement alternative, Mr. Cheetahtoes has you covered:
As always, Ronnie, well played. Needless to say, this effort has shot you right to the top of the FKS MVWS (Most Valuable Weather Spotter) watch list for the 2009-2010 season. Your move to Johnstown has done nothing to alter your dedication to the cause and we here at FKS can not thank you enough.
And the ceramic French debutantes really tied this post together, did they not?