The New Arrival

It doesn't cry or use diapers, but rolls well and I can sit on it. OK, you guessed, I bought a new bicycle! I named it "Specialized Crossroads Sport" (it's easy to pick a name when it comes painted on it). It's a "comfort bike" because riding it is similar to riding a couch. (That is, if your couch rolls up hills and goes against the wind.)

Embarrassingly, by getting a new bike, I felt I was abandoning my old Schwinn Mesa. Of course, it didn't help when my wife said, "I can't believe you're retiring your old bike." Great, pangs of guilt; just what I needed! (Mental note to self: what does it say about me that I get emotionally attached to an inanimate object like a bike? Where is my therapist's phone number?)

First the back story: I'm not someone who does 100 mile cross country marathons, but I do find my way around town, utilizing my bicycle for commuting. I'll ride to meetings, drop off videos, or pick up some groceries. (If you go grocery shopping via bicycle, you save a heck of a lot of money also because you have to lug your goods on your back.) In essence, I do the usual "around town" errands on two wheels instead of four, saving me a few hundred dollars in gasoline, improving my health, and - as an added benefit - feeling I'm making a stand against Big Oil in some small manner.

A bicycle, just like a car (and us), requires regular looking after. Also as with a car, I am not able to provide said maintenance; so I take my metallic steed to the bike shop for adjustments. The last time I brought in my Schwinn, the "bike guy" said the whatchamacallit and the thingamabob were wearing out.

"Not a big deal," adds he (easy to say if you're mechanically apt - unlike me), "But the cost to replace it is more than the bike is worth. You might want to consider one of the newer 'city bikes.'"

City Bikes, I discover, are for people like me; designed for short trips and tasks, they are more comfortable and do not make you stretch as much to reach the handlebars (a big deal, let me tell you). Infused with such newly acquired comprehension, I found my soon-to-be new best buddy at a local bike shop and plunked down my credit card.

After the exchange, it occurred to me:

1. I spent almost $400 on a bike when I used to only buy $79 "specials."

2. $400 on something I actually utilize beats the heck out of $79 on something I won't.

Formerly, I bought all manner of exercise paraphernalia that was eventually relegated to an expensive spot for hanging clothes I did not put away. Now, I know this bike will get oodles of use. Change has really occurred; slowly, over time, and without notice, like it usually does. But it's definitely here.

However, please join me in a moment of silence for my old bike. May he find a wonderful new home.