Well for one, it takes more words. It takes thought and insight into what isn't on the surface. When I say bicycle, you see an image of a bicycle. Hard stop.
It's the bike you're most familiar with.
But when I say freedom, it's not one image you see, it's not a bicycle, it's not a bike. It's intangible for a second. You have to think about it to really see anything besides the letters in the word. Freedom. An idea, a feeling like freedom, makes the mind race faster than any bicycle can.
After that intangible second, that strain for focus, the floodgates open. It's a deluge usually. Probably eagles, America, et cetera. But don't stop. Stayed focused. There's so much more. Let your mind off the leash in that meadow of thought. Meander.
This probably makes zero sense to you, I know, but it's crystal clear. Trust me.
That's why I'm writing a bicycle.
*****
PART I: Scattante R330
When I finally got accepted to a UC after two years of slaving away at Santa Monica Community College, my uncle bought me a bicycle. I told him I was going to Santa Cruz and that the campus was atop a mountain. He's a bit of a bicycle enthusiast to say the least (when he retired from his government job in DC, he rode his bike across the country to the little plot he called home in the Tri Cities area of Washington state), so he found me a nice light racing bike that could take hills well. It had twenty-seven speeds and a ultra-light carbon-fiber frame. She was all black with red and white racing stripes, and she was so lovely, she was the nicest bicycle I've ever owned.
PART II: Schwinn World Sport
3/1/2012
I like running. Well no, I shouldn't say that. I don't actually run even. I don't get it, personally. It hurts, it makes me sore afterwards. I don't like the shock to the knees, and I've always got more pressing things at hand. Like all life's little stresses. And they're not always so little. Yes to be sure, I must admit that I hate running. What I love is running away.
Not in the Forrest Gump way, but to the same virtue maybe. Sometimes in a car, sometimes on a plane, but today it's on a bike, which I prefer sometimes because I can feel the world fly by through my hair, feel the distance grow behind me on my face, and feel everything faster and alive. Today running away is galloping off to work, but it feels grand all the same. And I only turn back to check traffic.
