Take your so-called vintage bike with rust and its obvious
wears of past rides, and spray paint it so you can convince yourself you have a
new one.
And so I did.
But after the first set of screws we took off, it was clear
it would take many, many more minutes for my bike to become fully dismembered.
It quickly became very much not a good idea; nuts and bolts
rolled down the gravel, ultimately disappearing for good. We snipped wires that
shouldn’t have been snipped, and we certainly did not know what we were doing.
But we continued. I was set on the paints I’d chosen, and
for some reason determined we’d remember where each screw went when putting it
back together.
The bike was apart, and I was finally able to start to paint.
The handlebars and the bars that hold the tires were painted olive and the body
a cream tone. By this point, I was taking up too much room in the garage, and I
had invested quite some more time into this presumed ‘little project’ than I
had envisioned.
I ended with a box full of metal parts that all looked that
same but somehow had different functions.
Two months later, the parts remain in the box within my
shed. I was able to link the handlebars with the body, but the rest remains
unwontedly unconnected. Ultimately, it all caused me more distress, and one
roll-of-the-eyes too many. I simply gave up.
Dear Bike,
I’m truly sorry.
 |
