Frankenbikes

FD has a friend named Fred who is forever speening him to get a new bike. They make them better now, you know.

But you might also know that our bikes, old 27 inch 10-speeds, cumulative ages 60 plus years, have sentimental value.

And they work good, as my father would say.

The other day our #3 son blogged about how we never bought him a new bicycle when he was a kid. He had Frankenbike, a hodgepodge of a bike that FD configured from my father's garage of old bicycles.

I honestly don't remember Frankenbike, but the kids assure me there was such a thing.

So apparently #3 son didn't appreciate Frankenbike or ride it and we gave it away or left it out in the yard to be stolen which, in my neighborhood, would take all of fifteen minutes, Franken-like or no.

Anyway, I read his post and felt kind of bad, but it is what it is.

The very next week my friend Natalie, who is THE boss weaver over at the Chicago Weaving School, caught me in the hallway of the school and asked me if I knew anyone who needed a pretty good bicycle, someone very tall. The bike's in pretty good shape; I'm giving it away, she said.

Well. It was meant to be, obviously.

Without thinking, I said, Yes, me. I need a bike. But I'm paying for it.

Done. The next day I picked up the bike. It's exactly what I would have expected from a person who appreciates finer things, which is why I automatically agreed in the first place, a used Miata 500, probably cost $550 if it cost a penny new. Her husband had just had it tuned and truly, this was a wonderful exchange. All I had to do was fill the tires.

And I loved the color, a slate blue.

#3 was ecstatic when I told him about it on the phone. He and his right arm (and brain, the wife) had just made the decision to move back to Chicago, a very flat city.

They arrived last week and the first thing Three did was take the bike out for a spin. "It's great," he said. "It'll need some adjustments. Like the handlebars feel too far forward, and maybe I have to lower the seat."

The thing has a lever to lower the seat, sweetie.

"But you know, these new bikes? They're not as good as the old bikes," he said.

"Huh!?" (I never expected this)

"No," Three continued, "the old ten-speeds with the larger wheels are less work to ride, aren't they? They're called racers for a reason. They're really faster."

Vindicated. Take that, Fred.

Copyright 2007, therapydoc