Sunday, March 3, 2013
Happy Birthday, Old Man
My dad would have turned 68 today.
He was a founding member of the Grumpy Old Bastards Bike Club (peak membership: 3), and a staunch proponent of the widest tires he could get his hands on -- "fat-tired bikes for fat, tired guys" is how he described it.
We used to ride together in the evenings, after dinner -- he had a theory (the "Seven o'Clock Calm") that the wind would always die down around seven. It didn't always pan out, but now, whenever I hear cicadas, I remember rides with my dad.
At 45, he had his first heart attack. He barely survived a second at 50, and was taken by the third one at 55. A life of smoking and obesity was just too much for his cycling habit to overcome.
One of the last places we went together (though I didn't know it at the time, obviously) was a bike shop.
I miss him every day.
Tailwinds, old man.