Becoming ToF

Being relatively new to ToF I’m kurious as to what it takes to become ToF. How does one learn? Does it take long? Will it hurt? Much? Will I like it? And will it impact on one’s future employment prospects?

Whilst on an initial fleeting, yet piercing, glance there appears little that unites this motley crew of unhinged proportions, one needs only to scratch the surface, or alternatively wait for a ToF’r to conveniently remove her/his own epidermis, in order to glimpse and then probe, in a firm yet purposeful manner, at what lies beneath.

So, with no time to waste, dressed in a fabulous old skool Sherlock Holmes check inspired Kafkaesque kaftanesque number, and accompanied by the satisfying snap of rubber surgical gloves, a rope around my waist firmly tied to the edge of this blog and dropping crumbs to ensure a safe return, I mount the tall and ride forth…..

….to seek out what makes up ToF.

Guided by these questions and the results garnered from my extensive methodical and systematic quantitative and qualitative survey of one hundred I wish to take this opportunity to share my discoveries thus far and also call upon others with more hands-on experience and intimate knowledge to enrich this visceral and cognitive exploration. In no particular order, the following appear to be some of the key biological and sociological facets of becoming one with the ToF.

1. The ubiquitous machine; complete with name, personality, costume and/or customised assemblage of found, made or otherwise dubiously acquired artifacts (see No. 6).

2. Stories about the making, riding, crashing, breaking, remaking, riding, crashing etc. of said machine.

3. A beer in hand, in mind, in belly, in esky, in word, in plan, on trousers or in beer holder on aforementioned machine.

4. Scabs, scars, scrapes, lumps, stretched, stitched, ripped or otherwise missing bits (often closely related to No’s. 2 and 3).

5. Tools (in bag, on bike or on body) of assorted form and function for fixing ‘mechanicals’ and opening beer (See No’s. 1 and 3).

6. Eyes, devilishly alert and twitchy, on look-out for hard rubbish treasure and other abandoned or forsaken objects ‘with potential’ (see No.1).

7. A grin of inexplicable delight that makes one’s face ache for days after riding or watching others ride.

8. A fine and nuanced tacit knowledge cleaved at the intersection of the human condition and vehicular form (of which JG Ballard would be proud).

9. An impressive ability to withstand heat of gargantuan proportions and still think it a fine idea to cook with fire, ride through the deserted streets and drink beer.

10. (Perhaps matched only by) A superior and well honed ability to believe standing or lying on abovementioned machine whilst hurtling across busy intersections or down steep hills is a good idea despite because of consumption of aforesaid liquid and possibly heat damage (See No’s. 3 and 9).

11. A keen sense of balance (depending on No's 3, 4, 9 and 10) (and if not it assists in the development of No’s. 2 and 4).

12. Rubber bones and enhanced elastic skin properties (though some people are still developing this particular skill set) (see No's. 2 and 4).

13. A penchant for experimental creativity that finds outward expression in dressing up at any op, musical performance and acrobatic endeavours (see No’s. 2, 3 and 4).

uh oh. At that fortuitous number I find with horror I’m out of cake crumbs and at the end of my rope so I must hurry back.