السبت، 16 يونيو 2012

My history with bikes

This wasn't my first bicycle !!!

Bicycles and I go a long way. As a boy, my bike was my horse, riding it as a cowboy. Sometimes I added all the gadgets I could find to attract the attention around me.  In my imagination, a bike wasn't just a bike, it was anything I wanted it to be.

At the age of four, I had my first bicycle with training wheels. I rode it on the roof of the building we lived at. The skies were the limit. Thought I could fly and almost got myself killed. I was banned from using it for self endangerment. What a lame excuse it was. 

At the age of six,  I had my second bike, still with training wheels. I rode it in the corridor of the building we lived at. It wasn't fun at all. Felt like that scared kid from the Shining horror movie.

At the age of twelve, I got my third bike without training wheels. It was red but had no bells or whistles. However, it was a solid one. Had my first accident on it when I flipped backwards. It didn't hurt much, but my ego was deeply scratched . Neighborhood kids never made it easy for me to forget. The bastards.

At the age of 14, I had my first racing bike. I was a chubby kid then thanks to cheap KFC and Buskin Robins ice cream. Had both tires flat after one hour of riding it. The week after I ruined the gear system when I used my bike as a target to hone my soccer skills. Ended up buying rolling blades and skated back into another damned building corridor.

At the age of 15, I had the urge to try riding my friend's bike bare feet. A BMX with no brakes. Zoomed down the second level parking lot, hit a cement wall head on, broke both hands. Got four stitches on the chin and couldn't wipe my ass as normal kids do for two months. It was great having some one wipe it  for me. I love you mom.

A long time passed, got married and had kids. I got my first daughter her first bike with training wheels. She went over the edge and got a face plant when she flew over the bushes. She was okay, but was banned from using it for self endangerment. What a lame excuse! ... she said.

Got a scooter for my second daughter and a pink helmet for protection. I figure I was much wiser then. She tripped and  fell face down. A scar is still shows on her forehead. I gave up. 



At the age of 34, I bought a bike to ride it to work. I left it outside my house over night one day. It disappeared the next morning. Reported it to the police, but gave them the wrong model name. Never heard from them again.

Bought a new bike to stay in shape. Had all the bells and whistles this time. Rode it downtown once and almost ran over a bird. Went flying over the handle bar after a sudden violent brake. Hit the pavement and fractured my right elbow instantly. Waited in the hospital for five hours with my dear friend. Paid $35 dollars for a lousy arm sling that I used for three weeks. Still have it as a souvenir. My wife refused to wipe my butt even if I had broken both arms, legs and my neck. I love you mom. 

Got a new bike for my first daughter. Went riding together a couple of times. Got a new bike for my second daughter for just $25 from a neighbor who was moving out. It was a steal. Got a scooter for my third daughter. She rarely used it. Her friends played on it more than she did. She was banned from using it. Didn't want some neighbor to sue my ass off, after all my mom went through.

Last week my wife got the Canadian Tire flyer. They have a training bike on sale. She wants one.

So, I have three bikes and scooter sitting in the basement collecting dust, got no space left down there, my wife will get what she wants whether I like it or not, and I'm thinking about buying one of those new electric scooters with no license required and to save on gas.

Sometimes I think to myself .... I'm really a sucker for two wheelers. It turned out that there are a lot of suckers out there just like me.


That bastard could have been me.  
Sam Meddaka
Widsor, ON

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