I had that bike I was free. I was no
longer restricted to a tricycle that was
too small or my brothers' bikes which were
original story, unedited,
a bike was a pretty big deal in my family, at least
from my perspective. It indicated that you had
reached some great milestone. Every family has this
thing where, "When you are "x" you can
(This isn't to say that a parent couldn't
indiscriminately change the age at any time. For
example, I had to wait until I was eighteen to have
my ears pierced, whereas my two younger sisters had
theirs pierced way before they were eighteen.)
the time when I got my bike, the magical age was 9.
Now my mother doesn't recall this age factor. She
only remembers when Howard, my oldest brother, got
his bike. Maybe the idea came from my sister Ann
who wanted to keep me under her subjugation as long
as possible. Until then, I had to beg and plead to
ride someone else's.
bike was a lovely light-blue, girls' style Schwinn
bike that had tall chrome handle bars with blue
plastic grips. The banana seat, which was all the
rage in the mid 70s, was white with pink and blue
flowers. One of the best things about having a
banana seat was the ease of which you could give
someone a ride. Or, if the person was small enough
and agile enough, he or she could ride in the deep
"U" of the handle bars.
I had that bike I was free. I was no longer
restricted to a tricycle that was too small or my
brothers' bikes which were too large. And more
importantly, I was no longer forced to grovel to
Ann to ask to take hers. "What mom? You need me to
tell dad something out in the field?" Hop on my
bike and wing away with Mercurial speed to grant
her request. "Huh? It's time to weed the garden?"
Hop on the bike and dart toward the tree break to
lose myself behind the lilac bushes.
at last. Free!"
Karen Johnson's teaching article and learn
techniques for teaching students to write more
Interest to Writing
- ©1997-2008 -
Sandy and Thomas