I’ve always been impressed by people who could fix their bicycle chains.
What on earth does that have to do with “spoke”? Well, I saw “spoke” and immediately thought spokes on a wheel – which is a little weird since I don’t ride a bicycle – and that went to broken down bikes and that rolled into kids fixing their bikes on the side of the road.
Not that they’re fixing their spokes, but I guess that’s how my brain’s working today.
I did ride bikes as a child. It was a major mode of transportation and, being the 70s, included a very cool banana seat to boot. But I have a memory (admittedly vague) of busting my bike one time. Not like I did anything to it, it was one of those things where you’re riding along and out of nowhere you’re suddenly pushing on pedals that clump-clump-clump and the chain’s dangling. Apparently this still happens – my kids are all “I’m five minutes late because I had to put my chain back on” whereas I remember scraping the bejeebees out of my leg coming down and staring blankly at the chain then slowly walking my bike home.
But again. Spokes.
People used to put baseball cards against their spokes to make that cool whirring noise but, sadly, that was before my time. All our coolness came from banana seats and bells. Because who didn’t love a great bicycle bell, am I right? That and those pom pom tassels hanging from the handlebars. Ooh! And sometimes a basket on front.
In my old(er) age bicycle spokes have joined the category of “things that make me nauseated when I watch them in motion” so I only enjoy them with peripheral vision these days. They’re in good company: trees flying by the side of the car and swoopy videos (hello, waterfall scene in Jurassic Park) both make me feel a bit upchuckish, too. C’est la vie.
Linda’s stream of consciousness prompt drives my Saturday post. This week’s prompt is “spoke.”