And I had a good time back in Michigan this weekend. It was great to see everyone, as usual, and to be honest I was going to write all about my weekend up there tonight, but then when I got back to my new Worldwide Headquarters I noticed something. Right after I poured the water out of my kayak, The Miles Standish, I looked around and noticed that something was conspicuously missing from the courtyard behind my building.
While I was away someone had been kind enough to liberate me from my bicycle. Yeah, that's right. Someone stole it. In a town of 1500 people, where everybody knows each other, SOMEONE TOOK MY BIKE! I bet it was that dick Mike Evanson. I am just kidding, Mike. But someone did take it. I suppose that it was my fault because I didn't lock it up, but you know what? I just moved. The lock and the chain were packed up, probably under some books. So I thought it would be safe under the light near the other unlocked bikes. I guess not.
No one is outraged by this. I took the time to watch the local news and the main story was that there are new laws affecting the small wineries that dot the area. Not a word about my bike. I went down to my friendly local grocery store and checked out some milk cartons and you know what? Not a picture of my bike on any of them. I did some research and traced the lack of local concern back to the fact that I failed to report this incident. I didn't report it for three main reasons. 1.) I don't care a whole lot. 2.) How are they going to find it? Just go out looking for a random bicycle? Am I supposed to tell them that it was a City of Waukesha bike license form like 12 years ago on it? I live like 250 miles away from there. No, I am not going to stroll in and make that kind of fool for myself. 3.) My bike is a piece of crap.
I hate to say it but it's true. My bike was a pile of shit. I am not even sure why I was bothering with it. I was actually relieved that someone finally took it off my hands. Listen, it's not even funny. And the not even funny joke is on the asshole who took it from me. First of all, the brakes, both front and back, don't work. That's not true. They do work eventually. But if you want to stop for something you pretty much have to plan ahead for at least four city blocks. So good luck with that. Let's see, what else is wrong? Oh yeah, the gears don't switch like they are supposed to. On both the front and the rear. I mean, they do but never when or how you want them to. Wow, that's 0 for 4 with my bike. So let's recap. It doesn't go like it's supposed to and it doesn't stop like it should. Okay. Well it steers like it should. Sort of. I mean, if you tell it to turn to the right, it will. But the handle bars aren't straight either, so if you want to go straight, you have to make the handle bars point a little bit to the left. Oh, and did I mention that my bike is pretty much rusting out on every metal surface that exists? Yeah, that is happening too. If you stripped the paint off I am sure that it would just fall into a pile of ferric oxide on the ground. That's rust for those of you who aren't chemistry majors.
So woe is the douchebag who stole my bike. I mean, I am not mad at him or her, I understand the complex feelings that go behind theft. I have stolen things myself before, so I know what it's all about. I actually feel sorry for them. Because they have stolen themselves the bicycle equivalent to a Ford Pinto. Good luck with that. I am sure that by the time that you read this my bike is rotting on the bank of the Wisconsin River, or it's been ditched back in the woods behind the high school. Sort of a sad end to a piece of equipment that has been a piece of my life for over ten years. But such is life. Not like I rode it much anyway. If anything it gives me an excuse to get a sweet new one though, now doesn't it?