Hah, nobody saw the first post.

The internet is abuzz with blogs, all of which start with a line similar to "the internet is abuzz with blogs, so why this one," which really does beg the question, "why this one?"

Very good question, and a question I shall dodge entirely.

Petrol prices have you in that place? You know, "that place where rising gas prices means trading in four wheels for two?" If so, perhaps you've discovered, as I have, the joy of the bicycle business.

I should specify, for pride's sake, that I've been a long time cyclist, have worked as a mountain bike instructor, and have thoroughly loved bikes since I first had one in my early childhood. There: early adopter cred established; I continue. My mountain bike, a fine beast, we'll name him Tigger, was not my ideal commuting machine. Not just because it's my mountain bike and I love it oh so much, but also, the frame geometry, and riding position, while great for slugging up inclines was not entirely to my liking for hauling stuff. Further, (Cred Statement Alert) the old-school disc brake tabs are right where I would prefer to mount a real rear rack. (Did you catch that amazing alliteration? Liberal Arts degree indeed!)

That is called a digression. The original point of the paragraph was to establish the author's standing among a party of semi-interested peers, while simultaneously providing necessary information for the readers to understand the forthcoming story. Continuing...

I decided to get a cargo bike. Why? Because I used to like pick up trucks. That's all the reasoning you're going to get. So I ordered a frame and parts. I've never built a bike before, hardly understand the mechanics of the thing, and as someone who learns by doing, figured, sure jump on in there. So, with my copy of Zinn and the Art of Mountain Bike Maintenance, I waited. Parts arrived! YAY! I waited. I waited. I waited some more, still more waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. I get a phone call! The frame is due to be delivered to the store any day now. Waiting. Waiting. They're going to send it to me, in a few days. Waiting. Much silence, no more phone calls, no more answering of phones. Just me, and my middle school crush on a UPS truck that doesn't seem to know I exist. Maybe the truck will drop by tomorrow?

At any rate, why can't bicycle shops, and manufacturers just tell me honestly how long it's going to take to get something to me. I don't care if it's going to take 3 weeks, but I'd rather know then, instead of two weeks later than the projected date.