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September 9, 2007
Duck Duck Goose
You know how sometimes when you go on vacation and you leave a pet behind (well cared for at a kennel or with a neighbor) and when you retrieve him he engages in behaviors that piss you off seemingly as a way to teach you a lesson for abandoning him?
The Mighty Schwinn seems to have done the same thing to me. I pulled it out of the garage today and noticed it had a funny roll to it. Close examination revealed one of the back spokes was broken and that the tire needed truing.
The only other spoke I know I've had replaced was the one from last month. That spoke was 21-years old and it made sense that it snapped… I'm pretty sure I blew out my knee about the time I was 21. Things happen when you hit that age.
That 21-year old wheel was replaced with a new wheel and new spokes and one of those spokes has already snapped. It can only mean that The Mighty Schwinn didn't appreciate the sitting-around time it had to put up with while I vacationed.
It had been my intention to put 20 or 30 miles on the bike and I probably shouldn't have gone anywhere after I noticed the spoke. I was having a bad case of The Blobs, however, and hit the road for 14.
And this was good. For it gave me a chance to play the game I sometimes play with drivers.
I'm not sure what the game is called, and I never know when we're going to play it, but it goes like this. I'll be pedaling along, minding my own business, and someone will drive by and yell something unintelligible at me. It's normally high school boys and I think they do it to see if they can startle me so they can then drive off giggling like little girls and telling each other just how cool they are. Following the yelling it is up to me to determine whether or not I should chase them down. I guess the whole thing is sort of like a wheeled version of Duck Duck Goose.
And so, I was pedaling up the hill on Fishinger Blvd. when a faded gray Caddy went by and the driver leaned across his passenger and yelled at me. The driver had a wild tangle of dark hair and there was a third guy in the backseat. Despite the fact the car had gone by me in the left-hand lane, leaving me the right-hand lane all to myself, I didn't care for it.
I had been startled and I could almost hear their girlish giggles of the guys as they drove off.
They were slowed by the light at Smiley which had turned green by the time I got to it. As I pulled into the road adjacent to the Mill Run Shopping Center they pulled into the parking lot for Mill Run. I swung into the parking lot and kept my eye on them as they made their way toward one of the banks. And this is where we met.
The driver, a high-schoolish looking guy with wild, dark hair, had a surprised look on his face when he saw me.
"Was that you that yelled at me back there," I demanded.
He shook his head at me.
"You didn't shout at me? None of you yelled?"
Three heads shook and the passenger shrunk away from me and leaned more on his door.
So far this year the score for the game is tied 2-2. I've had four idiots yell at me or make hand gestures and I've tried to catch three of them. I've caught two. Wait, maybe the score is then 2 (caught) to 1 (got away) which puts me in the lead.
Anyway, chasing people down may not be the smartest thing to do. I like to think it will teach the idiots a lesson but maybe the lesson they learn will be hey, we've gotta start packing some heat.
(BTW, closer examination at the bike shop would reveal two broken spokes.)
Posted by delmer at September 9, 2007 9:30 AM
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