|The first time I smiled riding a bike!|
What is theme for today?
Way back Wednesday.......
My mother sent me this picture a few years ago before her death. I do not remember seeing this picture before, but I remember the day vividly.
It was my first attempt at riding a two wheel bicycle at the age of four. My prior rides on the stretch of our driveway had always been on my Big Wheel.
Who remembers those machines? They were fun! I still remember my friends coming over with Big Wheels and we would have impromptu races on Saturday mornings. Only after our fill of Saturday morning cartoons and Captain Crunch!
My Big Wheel was the bomb as they say now. I loved that machine and I do miss the fun of sliding that thing into a turn. It was like power sliding a 5.0 Mustang! Eventually I wore a hole into one of the back tires from all of the power slides I managed to do. And then one day the Big Wheel was gone and as you can tell from the picture I began the right of passage to freedom!
Two wheel bicycles offer freedom to any red blooded American child, actually any child around the world! With a bicycle you have the ability to break the rules and ride wherever your legs will take you. But before I get ahead of myself and beyond my driveway, I had to gain mastery of a 26" tire bike and that was memorable day for a four year old. No 16" or 20" banana seat bike for me, only a vintage 26" tire bike would do.
As you can tell by the photo, my father was right there at my side and I had a smile on my face to boot! Not long after that photo was taken, my father let go of the handlebars and I was off on my way. I made my way to the garage and made the turn and shortly after the turn of the handlebars I crashed.
For those of you who ride bicycles and my want to critique my seat position or saddle height or even frame size choice, remember I am only four and my father had not ridden a bike since he was a child some forty years ago, so his choices on those subjects did not come from an experienced background.
Alright back on subject. I crashed, no other way of saying it. I cried, yes I cried like any four year would, like a baby! Luckily for me my father had served in the Navy in WWII and evidently had some type of first aid classes. Or either he didn't think I needed to go to the emergency room. *Side note, later years in my childhood, I would become a frequent flyer at the Ochsner Hospital Emergency room.
I had a decent size gash on my right knee. Yes I can still see the opening to this day in my mind [key word opening] and I have the scar on my right knee to prove it. As I typed those words I couldn't help but think of Mel Gibson and Rene Russo trying to outdo each other with their scars in Lethal Weapon 3. I feel the same way about all of the scars on my body and would be willing to challenge anyone who has not served in the military to a scar contest!
Back on subject, so my father being the Navy veteran he was, decided that no emergency room visit was needed to close up a two inch long gash on my knee. That was well within his super powers as a father. He poured some good old fashioned Mecuricome on it and after more screaming and crying, he applied the magic tape. Magic tape sounds good doesn't it? Actually I have no idea what type of tape it was. Knowing my father it was probably duct tape. But he taped it shut and wrapped with gauze and I was back on the road to life and to freedom. As I look back on his tape job, my guess is that is the reason that I have a very visible scar on that knee fifty years later.
What fun and what memories. I feel sorry for kids who don't have those types of memories because we bubble wrap our children for safety today. And that is another subject as they say....
That's all for today, on my way back Wednesday
Have a great day!