Things I like: 20-somethings on bicycles...

I'm kind of old school... being, well, older and raised on the West Coast, I always had a fetish for bicycle couriers. The gritty, dirty ones that smell when you get into the elevator with them. Back in may day, they were hot: rough, fit, street-wise and iconoclastic to the extreme.

Actually, my thing for cyclists goes back even further, to the mid 80s, when Paul Weller and his buddy frolicked around in cycling jerseys to My Ever Changing Moods. Yummy.

All of a sudden, it's chic again to ride a bicycle. Whoo... is it ever. Sometime this summer I started to notice little punk kids, girls and boys, riding sleek little 1970s ten speeds like they were going out of style.

So now it's punk rock to have a stripped down Bianchi: no fenders, no gear... sometimes not even any brakes (or just one brake, if you're not that brave).

Punk rock 10-speed girls dress like squeegees, but a little more elegant. You can tell they're not squeegees, but in fact lefty college students, clad in big boots, spiky belts, fake fur... stretch pants and cutoffs, layered just so.

And the 10-speed boys... look way too delicious en route to Mile End, sporting little Italian cycling caps. Safety last. Fashion first. Some of the boys wear little caps and mustaches -- as if they grew them to look "just so" on that welcome back Kotter bicycle. Can little Adidas shorts be far behind?

But back to the bike couriers for just one minute. Lately, I'm tuning into a whole new breed, even more delicious than the 1990s variety. As if to defy the 10-speed kids, these road warriors wear dreadlocks, kilts, big fat earrings and giant boots.

These lads don't give a rat's ass for anyone's rules, fashion or otherwise. And it's lovely. One sports a big, curly 1900s mustache. Another has dangly, ladylike earrings shining inside his filthy hair. As if to say: cars suck, being in traffic all day is crazy, and I'm expressing my contempt for it all in my own special way.