E-Bikes are Soft. Does That Make Me an Old Head?

A lot of things piss me off: closers walking the lead-off hitter with a two-run lead, ordering hot coffee and it being lukewarm, when people drop “since” and the time span hasn’t really been that long, e.g., “Their first major win since 2024.” It’s been 2 years, chill with the since. “Their first Stanley Cup since 1974.” Ok, since kind of hits there.” And yeah, I’m also anti e-bikes... makes me feel like an old head.

I mean shit, I guess I’m already kind of old. I’m currently the 3rd oldest person at the company I work for. Sure, I still feel young, but that’s what every old person well off his or her prime says. “I still feel young!” as they watch the world they once know and love crumble beneath their ankle socks. Whatever man, e-bikes are soft.

Watching these fucks go 35mph in a bike lane completely rattles me. Should be a crime! Too soft to pedal, too soft for a motorcycle. Instead, they settle for 40mph on your local bike trail. One squirrel sighting away from completing ripping the head of ole Fluffy. You wanna go 38? Go hang with the big boys.

Almost drilled a kid the other day on one. Dude just completely blew the stop sign. On his way to Billy’s house to play PS5 and eat elite snacks. Not saying that’s a bad thing. Hell, I did the same! Except it was N64, PlayStation, and X-Box, but the main difference between me and the boys back in the day and the youth nowadays, is these kids can easily go wherever they want, whenever they want. Now, maybe this is jealousy talking, but when I was a dumb fuck riding my bike around, me and the squad had to ask ourselves if a trip was worth it. For instance, my buddy Peter had a great house growing up. Killer basement, elite snacks, dope computer room. The only issue was you had to bike up the biggest hill imaginable to get there. After basketball, or after ripping fries at McDonald’s, we had to ask ourselves how bad we wanted it. Was lemonade, popcorn and a basement sesh worth the grind we were about to endure? I tell you what, that lemonade always tasted a touch sweeter after going full on Tour De’ France yellow jersey up, at the time, the steepest hill I ever encountered. Calling your friends out who get off and start walking their bikes, fucccck that. Grit, grind, Crystal Light, Orville Redenbacher, Chips Ahoy, Pablo Francisco, W.

Now these fucking kids buzz over to Chipotle 10 miles down the road whenever they have a craving. Unreal. Bike path, 60 mph. “Why is this guy mad? It’s a bike lane!”

Jealous? Maybe. Worried about Fluffy? Oh yeah. Sick of the, “Oh look how fast I can go down this quant bike path where people gracefully walk and take in the beauty of nature?” Big time.

You wanna go 35. Go play with the big boys.