Learning How to Ride
Published March 21st, 2007 in It's Really Just All About Me....Day Two of the diet didn’t go so well. It involved a trip to Universal CityWalk, Buca di Beppo, and the movie 300 on IMAX. I asked for Tabasco and I got a 2nd helping of Fettuccine… It wasn’t pretty. So, I have to change the subject.
And now for something completely different.
I was really caught up in a bit of the history from the movie 300. Let me stop for a second for a quick film review. Guys, you should go see this movie for all the blood and guts and ass kicking. Fun stuff. Ladies, you should go see this movie for all the beefcake… the star of the movie was Gerard Butler. Let me tell you, he was about this close to turning me gay.
But, back to history — and I’m not saying that the film had ANYTHING to do with history (I’m pretty sure the only thing they got right was there were people from Persia and people from Sparta) but it’s been told that the people of Sparta raised their young boys to fight. And fight very well. They apparently would train their whole lives to be warriors. As mere boys, they were sent off into the wild to fend for themselves. If they came back alive, they got a gold star or something.
Sitting in the theater, it reminded me of how I learned to do some things as I was growing up. No, I wasn’t required to kill a wolf with my bare teeth or anything, but I did have some scary experiences. You see, my father passed away when I was a mere 6 months old. I was severely lacking in the father-figure department. My brother is 20 years older than me so he had his own family to deal with by the time I slid into the picture.
Two of my most horrifying nightmares memories involved learning how to swim and how to ride a bike. And it happened exactly how you’re imagining it right now. My first swimming lesson involved being pushed into a lake by some older kids. They laughed, wished me luck, and walked away. I managed to go under five times until I realized that if I kept moving my arms and legs at a hundred miles an hour that I could tread water. I dog-paddled my way to shore, kicked a few boys in the family jewels, and sulked the rest of day. I didn’t go back in the water for a year. To this day, I love to swim and love to dive into the water but my first instinct is to do my little dog-paddle, self-taught swim technique. No harm, no foul, I guess. But I want my gold star, dammit…
Ah, but the really fun adventure was learning to bike ride. My next door neighbor taught me. He was about 10 years older than me. I was probably five or six years old and had just gotten my first bike. A rad yellow bike, with chopper handle bars, and a black banana seat. I never did the training wheels thing - I went from being a master of the Big Wheel straight to the big league.
The guy who lived across the street saw me struggling to learn how to ride my shiny new bike. He agreed to help me learn. Bless his heart. His recommendation was to get away from the sidewalk with the cushy, soft grass on both sides of me and head straight to the school parking lot. With a wide open expanse of… concrete. He would push me for about two steps. I would vainly yank my handlebars back and forth for about three feet and then I would eat a mouthful of cement. We did this for about 15 minutes. By the time I figured out how to pedal two times all the way around, I was declared an expert!
My neighbor was so full of pride and sure of his star bike riding pupil that he decided I needed a real challenge! I was bleeding from seven locations on my body and I couldn’t feel my left arm from the elbow down, but that was of no importance. My neighbor pushed me on my bike over to the top of a very high hill on a very long street. He waved his arm out over the steep road as if to say I was king of all I surveyed. I tried to say no. Really. I did. But it came out, “Doh” because I was missing part of my tongue and a few teeth seemed to be loose.
He got behind and pushed as hard as his hormone-fueled teen body would allow. He laughed, wished me luck, and walked away. I went soaring down the hill. I did pretty good. At first. Which, in hindsight, was not a truly good thing. I was headed downhill and so I didn’t have to pedal - I could concentrate on balance and steering! And I picked up speed. Fast. And then it hit me.
He didn’t show me how to stop. So, I pedaled forward. That didn’t help matters. Being the genius that I am, I decided to pedal backwards. And what do you know?! I stopped. But it scared the shit out of me so I stopped. That skid was enough to send me veering off course and straight into a parked car.
(I didn’t know this at the time but apparently your mom is responsible to pay for damage to another car through her insurance company. Who knew?)
But did I quit? Oh, no. Not me. I was like a Spartan warrior-child, I was. I was only 1/3 of the way down that hill. I climbed off that cracked windshield and limped over to my bike. The wheel was bent but it would still turn. I had to get my precious bike home so I decided to ride it the rest of the way down the hill. A fucking genius, you’re saying to yourself. Aren’t you?
Well, I won’t bore you with any more sordid details. But two more parked cars later and I was finally back at home. Without my bike. It didn’t work very well anymore.
So, I went over to my next door neighbor’s house, kicked him in the family jewels, and went home to sulk. My new bike was toast and I couldn’t pass out sleep well with my mom yelling back at the people with the dented cars. To be honest, I was a little proud of all my war wounds. My badges of courage. I had faced that big hill and… it had kicked my ass. But I didn’t quit.
Do I get my gold star now?
I’m going to call my mom tonight and remind her of all this. She’ll say, “That was crazy!” And I’ll say, “No, mom. That… was Sparta!” But, since she hasn’t seen the movie, I’ll spend about 42 minutes trying to explain it until she finally hangs up on me…
18 Responses to “Learning How to Ride”
- 1 Pingback on Jul 1st, 2007 at 1:05 pm
- 2 Pingback on Sep 18th, 2009 at 9:54 am
Man, that was too long… I really should edit this stuff… Sorry.
Ouch, what a story! Learning to ride a bike wasn’t nearly that bad for me, although I had neighborhood kids teach me, too, since my mom worked too much to have time to teach me.
And yeah, loved 300. Awesome movie. And Gerard Butler has been my favorite actor ever since I saw him in the Attilla miniseries years ago.
Yum, Gerard Butler. Yum.
I’ll give you a gold star. Sounds like you’ve more than earned it. Hee hee.
And just cuz I like to share, this is how I learned how to swim. My dad tied a rope around my waist when I was five, took me out into the middle of the lake and tossed me from the boat.
Everytime I sunk like a stone Dad would haul my water-logged ass up. He did that multiple times, laughing and drinking his beer until I figure out how to dog paddle.
I swallowed a lot of water. Dad swallowed a lot of beer. I’m not bitter or anything though….
Ouch! Great story.
“I asked for Tabasco and I got a 2nd helping of Fettuccine…”
I’m sorry. I can’t get past this line. That truly made me laugh out loud.
I guess i should read the post now.
Fucking awesome line.
Dude. You have way too many bike accidents. I hope you have some super thick, and super sexy chaps for your new bike.
Hope LA Mommy is feeling better. When I was pregnant with our son I took Zofran and it was the only way I got through my days - 31 weeks of nausea… it was awful.
How’s your stomach with all that tobasco and Fettuccine? Are they getting along in there?
I wish I could eat some pasta with yummy sauce. I’m eating rice tonight for dinner (good ol BRAT diet - hoping to ward off more nausea over here)… not fun.
Too long??? It’s because I must be rubbin’ off on you …hee hee hee
Love the bike story, I don’t remember much of my childhood, but I do remember learning to ride a bike, and the war wounds. But they have all been replaced with memories of teaching my 4 kids how to ride a bike.
Interestingly enough I have the same kind of learning to swim stories…I’m still not a swimmer BUT replaced stories are all 4 kids have done the swim team, just wait until your there with LA Toddler and baby!
You had me at “my father died when I was 6 months old.” I’m a sucker after that.
You should get this post published. And the part about Gerard Butller nearly turning you gay will probably help your chances.
Wonderful story!
Great stories. When I learned to ride a bike I was taken right out to the street…luckily it was a quiet street and the neighbors knew they had to avoid me. The craziest thing is back when we learned nobody had even heard of a bike helmet.
L.A. Daddy
Do I dare ask if my story in which I almost called my kid a whimp while teaching him to ride his two-wheeler dragged up these memories? If so, I’m not feeling so bad. If you are an articulate nice guy who cares about other people my little man will be fine.
Especially since I haven’t demanded he go down big hill. Yet.
Mitch - the chaps are for the bedroom. But I do have a new superhero outfit to wear on the bike, with all sorts of pads and protection.
Briana - Third day of The Great Tabasco Experiment. Going well - I’m afraid to eat. LA Mommy is feeling better - she’s taking some meds.
Soccer Mom - Yes, you inspired me! But I’m semi-articulate with a nasty little mean streak, so don’t count yer chickens!
Thanks for all the kind words, folks! I live these nightmares so your kids won’t have to.
As a kid, I was always toothpick thin. Now after marriage and a kid I have discovered rolls. I also struggle to find the expando pants with the fatty mcfat expando waistband so that I can comfortably sit down without unbuttoning my pants.
I love Buca di Beppo.
After watching 300 I went straight to the gym. Well, not really, but I thought about it.
Hi! I was looking for some stuff from the movie 300 and I was linked to your blog so I read your comments about the movie! Well I’m from Sparta (I was born and raised there) and it happens to know a little bit more history than you. I would like to inform you that despite the Hollywood touch almost everything in the movie did happened! Except some monsters and some Nija! Those were ancient Greeks and I really hope that one day all new Greeks be like them! Thanks for your space… ΜΟΛΩΝ ΛΑΒΕ!