On December 25, 1968 I was able to experience that once in a lifetime joy of coming downstairs to find a brand new bike sitting under the Christmas tree. In fact there were four of them. The problem here is that there were five of us kids. Now reason would have you think that the person not getting a bike would be my sister Lori because she was a girl but it ended up being me that went without wheels that Christmas.
To be fair to my parents, it was pretty obvious at my youthful age of four that I was pretty far from having any physical or coordinative abilities for quite some time (if ever – see upcoming blog post of my falling down while running) that would allow me to ride a bicycle. And I could tell my dad felt bad and he told me not to worry and that I would get one someday. And he was correct in that I would eventually get all those bikes. Each came in a varied state of repair but I was able to cobble enough parts from them to be able to ride although it resembled a bike that might have fallen off the Clampett’s truck as the drove into Beverly Hills the first time.
By the time I was age nine it became obvious that there probably wasn’t going to be a new bike under the Christmas tree for me. My siblings and I had pretty much used up all the good cheer my dad had left (I mean till those other two came) after the constant barrage of phone calls from neighbors, school, police and foreign heads of state concerning things that had happened that were never ever our fault. But I still wanted a new bike and figured I’d have to get it myself.
I was already working some at the age of nine filling in for my older brothers on their paper routes while they attended sports practices or while they served their sentences. And I ended up getting my own route when my oldest brother Dave got on at Wareco Gas Station. This opened up his route for Tom to take and then letting me have his Springfield paper route. The Jacksonville paper route was much more desirable as most people took that paper and you could make more money. Very few took the Springfield paper so the route was much longer and for less money. Tom’s old Springfield route had him covering an area twice the size of Montana. I don’t think my mom thought I could handle it myself so she made Lori do half of it but at least I had some cash coming in.
I wanted to get a new ten speed bike. I went down to the Village Cyclery and saw that a new Schwinn ten speed was $95. I immediately did the math and I calculated out that at my current salary I’d be able to get that bike slightly before my eighty-third birthday. I needed to find a different way. Mike Allen was friends with my older brothers and he lived a few houses down. He had a Schwinn ten speed that he said he would sell me for $94 so I had no choice than to go that route for the savings. And buying it used from him I wouldn’t have to worry about all those annoying reflectors and working brakes that you get on a new one. We worked out a layaway plan where I only had to promise to give him all the money I made till age fifty-seven. (It will feel so good next year to get that behind me). He would also let me start riding the bike after making payments a few months and I could then use it whenever he didn’t need it. A total win / win for everyone.
After a while I eventually paid enough to Mike that he let me have it all the time. Now that it was all mine I decided to take it for a ride around the block. As I turned off of Kentucky Street on to Goltra Ave. I decided I needed to see if all the gears worked. As I was looking down back towards the back tire to see the gears change I ended up running smack into a car coming the other directions and ended up on my back on this guys hood and windshield. The guy was nice in that he tried to help me off his car by turning on the windshield wipers. I got up and pulled what was left of the bike off to the side. I drug the bike home as it was no longer rideable and sat it next to the shed.
The bike remained by the shed for a couple weeks until my dad yelled at me to come outside and when I got there dad had loaded up my bike in the truck and we went to Village Cyclery. All my dad said to them there was fix this which in hindsight he might have been more specific because when we went back to get it they charged him $120.
But it was complete with reflectors and brakes that worked.
Stuff that Probably Happened 