Roberta, I’ve said it before: you are a remarkable woman. Had we had more time 
together at our last visit, I might have begged you to show me your ways so I, 
too, could take off a wheel!

I was in a poor mood this morning after having to drive instead of bike in 
lovely weather. I passed the crossing guard, who stations himself at 7:25 at 
the far crossing because he’s expecting the boys and me. (This is a true story 
- very few people are ever using the far crossing, and he waits there to be our 
escort. Precious.) I wanted to yell an explanation out the window, but I 
decided not the cause a car crash instead.

I slogged through the typical Monday drudgery (menu-planning, grocery shopping, 
etc) and decided as a reward, I’d take #thestolenclem for a ride after I got my 
chores done and before I have to pick up the boys. I was really looking forward 
to it, and then....the phone rang.

“Your bikes are ready to be picked up!”

Wow, such service! I’m so happy but for the fact that I will not get to ride. I 
will get to drive for 30 minutes, retrieve my bikes and hopefully make it back 
in time to get my Baby Bear and The Clem Rider. 

I’m off! I’ll be two bikes richer in an hour, folks!

Sent from my iPad

> On Mar 25, 2019, at 5:57 AM, REC (Roberta) <rchas...@gmail.com> wrote:
> 
> I know how to change a tire (on the front)  but like you I take mine to the 
> LBS to help support them in business the little I can.  What's really a shame 
> is that your ride your bike every day, and they know it.  I'd bet those other 
> bikes will get picked up within  the next weekend or two and then sit in the 
> garage until Memorial day.  Still, I guess the only good news here is that 
> people are wanting to ride. 
> 
> Roberta
> 
>> On Sunday, March 24, 2019 at 1:02:25 AM UTC-4, Bicycle Belle Ding Ding! 
>> wrote:
>> We were all set to ride to the boys’ volleyball game at school today - my 
>> whole family. Inexplicably, the front derailer on the Betz would not work. 
>> At all. And it was not that little wingnut, which is the only thing I know 
>> to fix. Also, the Cygolite is missing a piece! I’m the only one with access 
>> to this bike and I didn’t crash it - a true mystery. Fine, I’ll ride the 
>> stolen Clem, alright? My husband has a big ugly e-bike, so he won’t miss his 
>> old under-appreciated Clem. I had to move Baby Bear’s little Hotrock out of 
>> the way, at which point I discovered his front tire WAS TOTALLY FLAT. This 
>> is the same tire I posted about a couple of months ago. That’s it; it’s 
>> going in, along with my Betz. 
>> 
>> I arrived at the shop and the owner loves me because I’m totally worthless 
>> but I pay my bills. We have a mutual affection - he performs hocus pocus and 
>> sprinkles fairy dust and my bike comes back to life; and I pay the bill and 
>> shower him with all the praise and appreciation for returning TBBITW in fine 
>> form. I decide that every single major and minor issue with these bikes will 
>> be written up and addressed this trip. His assistant kindly writes it all 
>> down (and I am not one to use words sparingly) and then tells me to expect 
>> the bike back on Thursday. 
>> 
>> Thursday? 
>> 
>> I gulp. The weather is going to be sublime all week long - FINALLY - and we 
>> need these bikes for it. It’s one thing for me to lower myself and try to 
>> commute with the Clem instead of TBBITW, but Baby Bear has *nothing* to 
>> ride. I am, essentially, bike-grounded. 
>> 
>> “Oh,” I say, “I suppose this time of year gets busy.” 
>> 
>> “Yes,” chirps the helpful employee, “People bring their bikes in and say the 
>> weather is nice and maybe they should ride the bike they have in their 
>> garage. And I tell them, ‘Of course!’ I mean, that’s great, right?!” 
>> 
>> I smile and nod and pretend to agree but really I’m thinking that these 
>> people and their under-utilized, garage queen bikes that they will likely 
>> throw a leg over once or twice this year are AHEAD OF ME IN LINE. I am 
>> selfish and impatient and don’t want to see from Saturday to Thursday the 
>> empty place in the garage that my bike occupies. My mind is racing but I 
>> keep my composure and slide in a sly, “Ok, well I guess I can drive the kids 
>> to school this week. What a shame the weather will be so perfect. Let me 
>> know if it gets done sooner?” 
>> 
>> I know that I’m whining and that I have only myself to blame. If I knew a 
>> thing or two about bike maintenance and repair, I would not be in this fix. 
>> Don’t trouble yourselves coming up with solutions; I know I need an 
>> education but I just haven’t done it because that shop and its agreeable 
>> owner exist. Now you’re here having to read this drivel and it’s not your 
>> fault and you don’t deserve this BUT....I will leave you with the feel-good 
>> video because you’ve been such good sports. Patrick Moore posted it eons ago 
>> and I’ve watched it dozens of times because I love is sooo much. It’s about 
>> a very old bike shop in Europe and the man who owns it. And if you watch it 
>> to the 9:15 mark, you’ll see me guest-starring. I’m a 70 year old woman who 
>> can’t fix a flat and comes crying to the bike shop. But unlike her, I make a 
>> mean sandwich. 
>> 
>> https://vimeo.com/133432406
> 
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