I sold my Catrike and I eat Dessert in the Desert

14 Jun

Jeez. How embarrassing. I misspelled dessert, like, nine times in two posts on the other blog. Yes, I left out an “s” so the spell checker was all like “That shit’s fine, bro, no problem here.” I guess a “desert” dish would be glassware that one uses in the Sahara and is, of course, shaped like a cactus. Jesus.

I don’t know how I finally realized the mistake. While thinking about and writing the posts I probably mentally mouthed the word four dozen times, and then I sat down this evening, took one look–desert dish? Holy Hell!–and felt this rush of warmth across my face. Yes, all by myself, I blushed and felt like a dumb-ass.

* * *

Hey, that's not me! Just too lazy to find photos of my own trike.

Hey, that’s not me! I’m simply too lazy to find photos of my own (former) trike.

In other news, I sold my fluorescent green recumbent tadpole trike for $1500 to a cool-cat 85-year-old man from Godfrey, IL. At 65 this guy won his age group in the Lake St. Louis Triathlon. I was amazed to hear he still rides his bicycle, but he’s been falling over lately, which can’t be good for 85-year-old bones. So now he’ll be on three wheels. I hope he rides the wheels off that thing.

I loved that freaky three-wheeled beast, but it mostly sat around, bored, as I rode my common two-wheeler. It also attracted excess attention; people would stare and point and  yell “Nice bike dude!” I guess I should have expected that, but it kind of drove me bananas. I wanted to point out that I wasn’t atop a purple giraffe wearing a clown costume and maybe yell back something like “Why don’t you watch the goddam road . . . dude.”

Anyway, If I’m lucky enough to live another 40+ years, I wouldn’t be surprised if my old, wrinkled ass ends up in another three wheeler. When my ear hair starts growing up and over my head as part of my comb-over, I’ll know it’s time to add another wheel to the mix. And by then I’ll be too senile to notice the rubberneckers. I’ll think I’m in a canoe or something.

That’s it. Really, I just couldn’t go to bed without setting the record straight about how I totally mastered the desert/dessert problem, like, 32 years ago.

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