Dear Friends,
This is it. My illusions are shattered. I've known all along it would come to this. Even as a kid I vaguely sensed the first faint warning signs of Quality Fatigue Syndrome. What started with the simple joy of bicycling soon became a desire for a "better bike". How much money would I need? A visit to the local bike shops revealed the answer: "just a little bit more". After more washing dishes and bussing tables and saving money, I had enough to buy the Better-Quality Bicycle. I was thrilled to have a bike that was so light, so well-made, and so fun to ride.
But as time passed, and I read more books and magazines on bicycling, Quality Fatigue Syndrome really set in. It seemed no matter how good your bike, no matter how well-suited to your purpose, there were always better bikes out there, and beyond those, even better ones, and so on. It is now abundantly clear that even the kindly souls on the CR list find little to love in the "production-run" bikes that were the high-water-mark classics of my youth. Really, it was a shame so many good sets of 531 tubing were wasted on such shoddy mass-produced consumer goods.
Well, I can't take any more. Quality Fatigue Syndrome and the inevitable deep depression that accompanies it have finally driven me over the edge. Tonight I'm taking my PX-10 out in the driveway where I can run over it several times with the pickup truck. Then I'm going to end it all. I'm going to bid high on the most expensive Masi or Colnago I can find on eBay, having first made sure to leave a loaded revolver on my wife's nightstand. That ought to do it. Goodbye, cruel world.
John Hurley
Austin, Texas, USA