Cycle Eternal

If you have ever had anything stolen from you larger than a twenty, it will appear within your horizontal vision like a phantasm and haunt every eye twitch, resembling a bad case of visual hiccups.  A boy named Precious stole my young son's bike decades ago, riding down the street to a waiting van as nonchalantly as if his own mother had sent him out for a quart of milk.  We got the low-down from the police that he was part of a small time ring of thieves and that the bike was absolutely, positively now pedaling down stranger streets under an assumed name, and probably hanging out on corners, smoking cigarettes stolen from mom's purse.  It took me years to not examine every seven year old child riding a white bike, as if I could have magically leapt forward to snatch it back.

Later on in his life, my son had another bike that he had lovingly customized with some flipped-out handlebars, and left outside a bistro while getting a cup of in DC.  The lock was a Nitro U-Bolt, made of Rocket Space Steel and Wolverine Psycho Dog Nightmare Beat You Daid Titanium.  It couldn't be cut through with an atomic laser, but the guy who stole it within fifteen minutes knew how to jiggle the tumblers with a Bic pen abracadabra, sis-boom-bah, and toodled away.  The seething violation of theft ate at Brian's soul for months, and every bike, every wheeled conveyance whispered Hey, It's Me.  You look and look, and want justice.  You want your bike back.  Gotta get over it, folks.  The only people interested besides you are the shopowners who are going to sell you your next bike.

I have a bike that has been with me for years; even when younger it was difficult and uncomfortable to ride, so now it's impossible to hoist ye fanny up and over the bar--it's a men's style Schwinn, an iron horse.  Riding while leaning forward over drop handlebars was tiring, as I have not ever had arm strength (failed the test in Phys Ed my senior year), but I actually liked the installed toe clips as compared to pedals; it allows you to pull up on one while the other gets pushed down.  Still, the bike gave me emergency transportation whenever the car was at the mechanic's, and frankly, I like a bicycle.

So now I am in the market for a sedate two-wheeler, not so much for fighting potholes and city traffic as for tipping up on the back of a car rack and out to a park.  Son says I should go to a Professional Shop, but he is young and sort of status-conscious; I am looking at the local big box store for a upright handlebar model with fenders and a rack in the back, just in case groceries get involved. The Dutch have very charming bike skirts that wrap halfway around the radius of the wheels to contain mud, and extra wide seats for Mevrouw's big posterior;  I am also sure there is some website somewhere that sells a good bell for startling pedestrians.

The warm weather is coming, and I would like to get out on the trails after all the ice melts into puddles for sparrows.  Nothing like noticing where you are on a bike, and the fresh air would just lift me up.  There is a time during summer that happens just after sunset, that causes the air to settle from daytime affairs into a somnolent coolness that contains the beginnings of tomorrow's dew.  The vapors from the ground, of dirt and grass and small running things rises to meet the roric air, blending into an oxygenated elixir that makes you want to live, forever.  You pedal to home, wipe off bits of grass from spokes, read the paper, shoo the cats, maybe have a bit of a supper; flop down and sigh, happy.

Night is spreading over the city; as the sun dims, the electrical lights plink on to illuminate byways for the remaining travelers.  Myself, there is a bit of supper and then bed, it's been a long day and tomorrow my son returns to his home.  I am sorry to see him go, but I am glad that he still loves us all who are here enough to make time to visit.  He will sleep on the couch one more night, and I will kiss the top of his head one more morning when I go off to work.  I am so proud of him.  Good night; the wheels of the planets cycle, the stars and nebulae all turn, all spin.