Friday, August 27, 2010

Spokey Dokey Performance_

It has been recently brought to my attention that there has been a distinct lack of mention of the performance of my Spokey Dokeys. There has even been suggestion that I... *sharp intake of breath* forgot to put the dokeys on my spokeys.


Now, whilst I understand from where, whom and how this suggestion may have come about (and I will deliberately lay no blame), I am taking the opportunity today - in the open forum that is the interweb - to very firmly correct this misunderstanding, set things straight, and also document, in vivid detail, the performance of my Spokey Dokeys.

I did not forget to snap on my dokeys to my standard bike spokeys. Nor, as has also been suggested, did I choose other "Blog" articles to take precedence over the current subject. This misunderstanding shall we say, is borne from a simple issue of timing. There is just no point even trying to assess, let alone discuss, let alone document the performance of one's Spokey Dokeys without them having been put to the true test.

That test - one of endurance, of speed, power, pain, dexterity, soggy boots, slippery slides and brilliant colour - took place yesterday on the Autobahns of Germany...

Having snapped the entire pack of 36 bike spoke beads to my bike spokes some time ago, I awoke yesterday morning knowing that this day would be the day. The air was thick with anticipation - and rain. The ground was a murky broth of expectation - and mud. As I rolled out of the camping ground, and onto the main road, the clitter clatter of the spin and tumble of the beads sang loudly over splitter splatter of the rain on my visor - the first time I'd noticed the sound so proudly above all else. As we neared the Autobahn, it seemed there was not a single other wave of sound in range. Clitter clatter. Clitter clatter...

I could tell that the sight of all 36 dokeys on my spokeys was one to behold as I was clearly bedazzling the other motorists who - being German - beamed with happiness and delight. I felt proud to be able to bring 36 multi coloured rays of sunshine to what most would see as an otherwise dreary German day. Clitter clatter.

As I rolled onto the Autobahn entrance, and my pace increased, the clitter clatter morphed into a steady whirrr... the true performance of the spokey dokeys was about to be realised - I could feel my bike wheels come alive. Whirrrr... buzzzz..  bedazzzzzle..

Singing along at 140 now, I spotted something familiar out of the corner of my eye.. was it.. no.. could it have been? Really? A pink one? Surely it was just someone's brake light glistening in a rain drop. It couldn't have been...?

Then another, this time green. A shade of green that could mean only one thing.

The realisation took a moment to truly register... my dokeys were releasing themselves from my spokeys. One brilliant coloured bead spinning and tumbling off its perch at a time like a flock of tits taking off into the sky.

And then, amidst the glares, stares, flashing lights, and shaking fists of the German motorists, the second realisation took hold - I'm on an Autobahn, I can't just stop. My eyes darted desperately for any sign of escape... a flash of blue, it's an exit sign! No.. just another dokey... by now they're shooting off at a rapid rate. I think it's too late. Clitter clatter, whirrrr... p'chooo p'chooo!

I try slowing down, but this just irritates the motorists more. P'chooo p'chooo!! Finally, the familiar blue of an exit sign... I dart off abruptly to the right, and make my way gingerly along the exit, and toward safety.

I subconsciously wait a full ten minutes before peering down at my now naked spokeys. There is not a dokey in sight. I am devastated. I look around longingly, desperately, but no-one notices. I practice over and over in my head "Ich habe alles verloren, meine spokey dokeys." And whilst I am sure they would understand, even with my accent, they just wouldn't truly understand. "Un heimlich" they would surely say...

I am lonely.

I am lost.

I feel defeated.

But I am not embarrassed.

It was a triumphant end. Thank you Spokey Dokeys on behalf of the world, for the joy you have brought us. Your performance was impressive, and your last hurrah was dazzling!

Auf Wiedersehen Spokey Dokeys.

1 comment:

Chris said...

Well they never included that warning.

"WARNING: Not safe for use if your child is capable of cycling in excess of 140 km/h"