Fox's fire

To many Tulsans, Biker Fox is, to use an '80s catch phrase, totally awesome.

It's more than those psychedelically-bright cycling outfits he sports.

Or that he's invented a front-flip with his mountain bike, which you may have witnessed him perform if you drive just about anywhere in Tulsa.

It's more than the fact that he's run a successful, classic muscle car parts business from his south Tulsa home for more than 18 years.

Or his trademark howl.

It's definitely more than the dozens of "glamour shots" he posted to his Web site after he lost nearly 90 pounds, helping to earn him a national cult-like status on the Internet.

"You know, everyone likes to look at themselves in the mirror and take pictures after they lose weight," he explained. "Maybe I just went a little overboard."

Maybe.

But what makes 47-year-old Biker Fox -- born Frank Palmer DeLarzelere III -- so popular is his relentlessly positive attitude.

"Life, love, fitness, being happy, self esteem is all about what you tell yourself," he said. "I'm serious about my philosophies, but I'm humorous, too."

With catch phrases such as "Send positive thoughts to the cortex of your brain!" and "Exercise cures all pain and stress!" corny may be more apt a description for how he words his philosophy.

But they work. Just ask any number of his fans.

In recent years, he's been featured in "The Physics Teacher" magazine, "BMX Plus!" and the Houston Chronicle.

He's been contacted by Jay Leno and Jimmie Kimmel.

He's become a motivational speaker, reaching out to school-aged children, business people across the metro area and to just about anyone who will stop to say hello while he's out on his bike.

He was a featured guest on a program for the Internet extreme sport and entertainment Web site Ripe.tv.

But also he's been lampooned, even by audacious X-generation comics Bob Odenkirk and David Cross.

Not that he minds.

"I never take myself too seriously. I think that helps people relate to me and my message," he said.

Go to YouTube.com (or Google, or Yahoo or MySpace, for that matter) and type in his name: Links to videos, articles, photos, blogs . . . from all over the state, country and world will appear.

Which may leave one wondering: Just who is Biker Fox?

Born in Monroe, La., DeLarzelere moved to Tulsa when he was 5 years old.

"Back before I started balding, you know, I was known as good-looking guy, a fox," he said, then laughed.

Now 47, he officially changed his name about a year and a half ago, he said.

But he's been Biker Fox for quite a bit longer than that.

About six years ago, living what he calls a "typical life" of being overweight, middle-aged and divorced, he decided to change his ways.

He was more than 90 pounds overweight. He was depressed. His attempts to become more healthy had stalled.

And he wanted to reach out to people but didn't know how -- or what -- to do.

"I prayed to God. I got down on my hands and knees," he said, collapsing to the floor in his home, reenacting the moment during a recent interview. "I cried, 'God, help me. There's something more for me out there, something I need to do.' "

His bicycle helped show him the way.

When "plain exercise and a stairstepper" couldn't push his weight loss any further, he started cycling.

Once on the road, he realized that being a cyclist in Tulsa could be rather dangerous.

"There were no bike lanes. There was very little courtesy. . . . I've had things thrown at me, been charged at and hit by drivers," he said. "Going through crosswalks, I even ended up on the hoods of a couple of cars."

He broke his right shoulder -- twice -- and his right elbow.

So, he invented a front flip technique to help reduce the odds of being injured if struck by a car.

The trick saved him from further injury -- several times.

Then, he decided to incorporate his bike tricks into a motivational repertoire.

"Can you imagine? A man like me coming into a group of people on my bike, flying off of it, then going into my howl?

"Then, I'd start talking to the kids and tell them how I got where I am, make them happy. That's what I'd like to do a lot more of," he said as he sat in his home office, answering seemingly endless e-mails from prospective car parts buyers. (For a sample of that howl, go to www.BikerFox.com and click on the Biker Fox cartoon's head.)

There are already plenty of people around who believe in Biker Fox's messages of health and happiness, and are willing to help share it.

Tulsa filmmaker and co-founder of the Tulsa Overground Film and Music Festival, Jeremy Lamberton, is filming a documentary about Biker Fox.

"I play the part of who I really am," Biker Fox said, and laughed. "Think about that."

Lamberton was at Biker Fox's south Tulsa home on a recent, sunny, weekday morning, following him around with a hand-held video camera.

"He asked me to help him with a movie short," Lamberton said with a smile. "Next thing you know, I'm his producer."

Executive producer, in fact, according to the Biker Fox Web site.

Lamberton's even gotten his friends involved in the phenomenon that is Biker Fox.

Lamberton was helping edit that movie short, called "Coondogs," (Biker Fox is also an environmentalist) for the festival when he recruited local artist Elvis Ripley to help.

Ripley is a fan and believer in Biker Fox's philosophies, too.

He first met Biker Fox like most people do: Watching him "riding around on the street."

"I think he is quite a character," Ripley said. "He's very positive and driven to help out everyone -- especially with positive messages to kids and teenagers, to keep them healthy as they grow up so they won't end up fat and stressed like Biker Fox was before he started biking."

Ripley's also helping Biker Fox set up a call-in show, which will be available as streaming audio from Biker Fox's Web site podcast, he said. It's now available from the MySpace Web page, www.myspace.com/BikerFox.

And, Ripley's posted several popular, homemade shorts to YouTube.com.

Remember the "dancing baby" video craze of the '90s? They're like those.

Ripley and Lamberton aren't the only folks singing Biker Fox's praises.

Local pop trio Admiral Twin wrote a surf-inspired ditty called "Hey Rider."

California-based band the Misprints has written a hard-driving '80s synth-pop rocker, "Biker Foxy."

And, Tulsan Stephen Glenn has penned an acoustic, hip-hopish "I Really Need Me Some Biker Fox."

At least a half dozen bands from Oklahoma and around the nation have followed suit, vying for a "Biker Fox Idol" prize and prominent play in his upcoming documentary, slated for release sometime next year, Biker Fox and Lamberton said.

Standing out in his back yard, filled with car bumpers and two garages full of parts, his home phone ringing and ringing with business inquiries, he said he yearns for the day he might be able to give up his car parts business and become "Biker Fox full-time."

"I want people to see me and know that if I can do this they can too," he said. "Kids are so excitable and such dreamers. It's time for all of us to take those dreams and make them real -- for the children in all of us."

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