I've now ridden my bike as much in Portland today as I did in Berkeley in the last 9 or 10 months. It's sad how little that's saying -- I rode to a (very exciting, actually) consignment store 2 miles from my house, bought some five-dollar curtains, and rode back. Granted, I got lost on the way and took an exciting detour through the most sharply uphill portion of Portland I've yet found, but it was less than five miles round trip.
Still, I may never stand or walk again. I should have stopped at the hospital that I passed on my detour and asked them to send me home in a wheelchair. I could have sat gloomily by the picture windows of my living room, huddled in my chair with my new curtains draped like a blanket over my aching legs. Why, I would ask myself, why was I not content to walk? Why did I crave speed and convenience and panache? Why was I determined to join the legions of high-velocity hipsters zooming down the streets with the clicking of gears and the flashing of calves? (Hussies.) Did they learn nothing from the lesson of Icarus? Did I learn nothing from the lesson of Icarus?
Just because I'm 26, I see no reason I can't also be 87 and curmudgeonly. Hrmph.
Posted by dianna at July 29, 2007 05:01 PM