Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Photo Story: Bike

Here's the thing, the last time I saw you, you had the delivery job, you had that tricky riding between the cones, you talked about the circus, the triathalon, the possibility of adding a baby seat. And now, I can't imagine that any of that is possible. You're a lawn ornament!

Can I just say that that that delivery job was not going anywhere...

Compared to right now it was, compared to right now, I should say that a delivery job has everything to do with going somewhere, coming back, going somewhere new...

But it was not my dream...

So, you had a dream of hanging out with Mr. Rusty here by the old brick wall on every day of the week that ends with a "Y"?

You don't understand.

I don't understand, I don't understand why you have a sturdy seat, a fresh coat of oil on your chains, enough air in your tires to take you to Snake River and over, but you're just leaning and that excuse for a bouquet of flowers that you carry is starting to take root on the surface of the very same wall you're so attached to. I see bikes at thrift stores getting a new lease on life, I see bikes that are handed down generation after generation. I see bicycles that are transformed into merry-go-rounds. And I see you in a race with a lone, rusty wagon wheel, and quite frankly, I think he's gaining on you.

Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do...

Your grandmother had a wooden seat, wooden wheels, and no brakes. They simply had to stop pedaling to stop. Pedaling backwards actually made her go backwards.

I'm half crazy all for the love of you...

You know what? I think you might make your name as a lawn ornament! There might be an imminent mudslide, you're preserved in your present condition, and civilization a thousand years from now will unearth you and they will receive your message of passive, nature-embracing, inertia-fighting, resistance to employment and their aggressive, over-worked, commercialistic totalitarianism will snap deep inside and a change, lordy lordy, a change will come over them that will return all of the universe into a more pleasant configuration.

It won't be a stylish marriage.

I can't afford a carriage.

May I say something now? I can tell that you're very concerned with my plans, my future. I wouldn't want your friends to look down on you for the state of my spokes. I get the irony of my situation, being a vehicle that's not in motion. Still, I don't get the vibe. Are you comparing me to a wheel that I just happen to be standing next to? Is my character dictated by speed, distance, velocity and direction? All bikes have a kickstand, all that I've ever seen. If you have a kickstand, doesn't that mean they stand still from time to time? You complimented my chain, my seat, you're not afraid of building me up a little, but is there some great threat that a couple of flowers is presenting. We're not growing younger, but don't we have time to stop and smell the flowers?

I do like white flowers.

See, that was a small compliment...

They could use some water.


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