STING-RAY BRINGS CHILDHOOD FULL CIRCLE

I just want to thank you for bringing my childhood back into full bloom, if for only one day. I have no idea what types of bikes are popular today, but they all seemed to cost around $350. There were Haros and Diamondbacks and some other bikes that all looked the same. I told my daughter we would go over to the old Scwhinn shop in Media, PA, where I dropped a lot of hard earned money over the years in my youth.

While I was marveling at some of the "custom" looking bikes up front, I wandered back to where my daughters and their friends were. My eldest daughter was sitting on a Pea Picker. I immediately told her to get off of it, that it must have been for show only. She said, "No, it's for sale dad." And she was right. I knew my daughter had no idea of the greatness upon which she was seated.

After walking around the store for thirty minutes, I finally justified the purchase in my own head. I think in reality I bought the bike more for myself than for my kid, but what the hell. I bought the finest lock in the store, and set upon the ground rules of the bike to my daughter:

1.   If your butt is not on the seat, the lock will be on the bike.

2.   You will not lay the bike on its' side.

3.   You will not let any moron boys ride the bike to pull stupid stunts that could potentially harm the bike.

4.   And the most important of all: I will never see a fingerprint on the chrome fenders or wheels. You are to keep them polished and shiny at all times.

I smiled from ear to ear as I watched my daughter ride off on her Krate. It was a wonderful feeling to see the torch passed. Even if she didn't understand the gravity of it. Later that night, a number of people came back to my house. Most of the men were my own age, late thirties, early forties. I told them to close their eyes while I got the Pea Picker out of the garage and brought it out onto the deck. I turned on the deck lights and told them to open their eyes.

The reaction was exactly as I expected. Grown men were speechless. One said, "Is that, a… a… that's a real Sting-Ray! Look at that banana seat!" We were all transported back to our youth. Each of us had a story to tell about our Sting-Ray, or how much we always wanted one. Each took his turn riding the bike on the deck, pretending to pop a wheelie. Our wives all looked at us and said, "You guys are idiots. It's just a bike for Pete's sake!" Oh, "just a bike" indeed.

Regards,
Dave Kowalski
Southeast Pennsylvania

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