Let's get right down to business, shall we?
I bought my oldest daughter a bad ass bike today. It is slick and fast and complicated. Buying a kid a bicycle is the most awesome thing a parent can do. It is their first step across the bridge to independence. When I think of my childhood, I think about Atari, Sid & Marty Kroft and my gold Ross bike with the black banana seat. I've had my current set of grown up wheels for about three years now. A black, two door, Jeep Wrangler. I've put only 10,000 miles on it. I'm pretty sure I put a solid 50,000 on my Ross between the years 1977 - 1981.
Where we live now is really close to where I grew up as a kid. Amazingly enough, I was able to purchase my kid's new ride at the exact same establishment that I bought my Ross back in 1977. That made the whole experience quite surreal for me but it was pretty damn cool to walk in there and see the expression on her face when she got a glimpse of all the Bikes. I'm not sure of the origin of the expression, "Like a kid in a candy store". But I think I'm gonna write a letter to my local congressman and request a change. I've seen my kid in a candy store and it's not that big a deal. Now, my kid in a bike store was pretty off the hook.
Here is the tale of the Tape:
'09 Diamondback Girl's Impression
Seat: Kid's Gel Saddle
Helmet: Bell Trigger '09
Brakes: Rear linear-pull brake + coaster brake.
Accessories: SuperTex vinyl travel bag
Bottom Line: Has already crashed into a pole and seemed to hold it's own.
'77 Ross Barracuda
Seat: Banana, Bitch!
Helmet: Parents didn't give a shit back then or were just plain stupid.
Brakes: You can't do a proper skid out and leave a tire mark with wuss handbrakes.
Accessories: Dumb ass pole / flag attached to back of banana seat, if your parents had cash.
Bottom Line: This bike would survive a nuclear holocaust and still get me to school in the morning.
So our first bikes are very different on the outside. I guess that's not what's important. There's always gonna be some punk ass that parks his Green Machine, right next to your shitty Big Wheel. I really don't care if her Bike can kick my Bike's ass. The smile she had on her face, right before she smacked into that pole at the school yard was the exact same one I had back in 1977.
Being Out-Numbered by your daughter and her '09 Diamondback Girl's Impression... Priceless.