Man’s (or Woman’s) other best friend

A normal man (or woman) bike is much like a dog. No matter how poorly you treat it, it will always be there for you and will never hold a grudge. You develop a connection with it that no one else could understand. It will likely have qualities that you aren’t particularly fond of, like licking its balls, but you put up with it because “its your dog” (or bike). Its not always the pure-bred that makes the best normal man bike, sometimes it’s the runt or the neglected that cruises around town with you like none other. This posting is both an eulogy and a (re)birth announcement. Following the order of events, I’ll start with the eulogy.

The original normal man bike (ONMB) was first introduced to me at Christmas some years back. It lacked any quality of being “hip,” “stylish,” or “fast.” It was the type of bike you might expect to see your dad cruising around the neighborhood on with his black socks pulled up to his knees, shorts way too short, and sweat-stained undershirt looking disgustingly sweaty for the mild day. He got the bike after a New Year's Resolution to “trim up.” But he only rides it twice before it begins collecting dust and contributing to the rest of the clutter in the garage. Well, you get the picture. Needless to say, ONMB got neglected for several years. Finally, in a desire to simplify my life I brought it up to Saratoga Springs with me. Soon ONMB and I became best friends. I rode that bike everywhere I went and in every condition. ONMB took a ton of abuse and was always a loyal best friend. Soon it was outfitted with a headlight, blinking taillight, and fenders, in addition to its already big comfy seat. It carried me around town in downpours and feet of snow. It took some wrecks, like when I didn’t see the curb in the dark or when I tried to show Elizabeth my latest trick on the way home from the bars (resulting in a nice endo). That bike personified me probably better than I personified myself. Well as these stories commonly do, the original normal man bike met a sad end last fall when it encountered a parking garage while riding on top of my car.

But, with loss comes new beginnings; several weeks ago I procured a new normal man bike. This bike was found at a garage sale and looked like it had not been ridden since being bought over 30 years ago. All components, down to the tires and brake pads, are original and in fantastic shape (all things considered). We are still getting use to each other, but things are going well. While weighing the importance of “braking ability,” sadly a squirrel suffered a tragic demise, and I soon decided that braking ability does provide some benefits.

So, if you have a bike stuffed away in the garage or drive by a neglected bike at a garage sale giving you those puppy-dog eyes, I implore you to open up your heart. Who knows, it could be the beginning of a beautiful best-friendship between you and your new normal man (or woman) bike.