Posted tagged ‘key’

“The bicycle is the noblest invention of mankind.”

October 19, 2017

I admit it. I am addicted to YouTube’s black and white science fiction movies from the 50’s. No more MSNBC for me. Give me flying saucers, creatures from other worlds, space ships, really bad special effects and even a Nazi scientist. He was in The Yesterday Machine and unsurprisingly, wanted to save Hitler. The opening scene in that movie is a majorette twirling a baton, and that’s a highlight. I’m got to break this addiction. Library here I come.

Today is beautiful, the first in a string of beautiful days. It will be in the high 60’s, even reaching 70 by next week. Despite that near week of rain and clouds, this fall has been a delight.

When I was a kid, I had all the kid things every other kid had. I had a bike, roller skates, ice skates and a sled, something for every season. My bike was my favorite. It took me all over town and even far out of town. Unless there was snow, I could ride. My first bike was blue. It had a wire basket in the front and a bell on the handle bars. I loved that bike.

I remember a tingling on the soles of my feet when I roller-skated. I remember the sound of the skates. They were the loudest on the street and the quietest on the tar parking lot near my house. I carried the key on a rope around my neck. I’d sit on the curb to reattach the skate to my shoe. The skates were heavy.

Like every other girl, I had white ice skates. We all carried our skates tied together on our shoulders, one skate in the front, the other in the back. The trick to skating was always to make sure the laces were tight or I’d have to stop to retie them. My best skill was skating backwards.

When I was in Ghana, kids played with hoops and sticks. They’d use the sticks to roll the hoops. The first time I saw the kids playing, I remembered seeing the same game in old pictures. I never saw bought toys there. I saw cars and planes made from tin cans. Ghanaian kids are ingenious. I did see bicycles, lots of bicycles, but mostly adults rode the bikes as they were dear, expensive. I would borrow a bike to go market. It was an easy ride downhill from my school compound, but going home uphill was, at first, difficult. I had to walk part of the way pushing the bike loaded down as I was with vegetables, fruit and even a chicken from the market, but soon enough I could ride all the way home.

I have a bike but haven’t ridden it in a long while. It has gears. It doesn’t have a basket or a bell. It’s a good bike, but I’m still partial to back pedal brakes and no gears. They were more than enough to whisk me away!

“Roller-skating and ice-skating are two different things – I found that out the hard way.”

March 19, 2016

The day is beautiful with lots of sun and a clear, deep blue sky. The only problem is the cold. It isn’t take your breath away cold, for which I am thankful, but it is wear a jacket or a vest cold. The prediction is for snow starting tomorrow night and continuing into Monday. We could get up to 8 inches, but the forecast is still filled with maybes. Sadly the snow isn’t a maybe but the amount is.

Even when I was young, I don’t think I’d have welcomed snow this time of year. It’s bicycle time. Sled time is over. I’d have already put my sled in the cellar and brought out my bike.

I was a pretty good roller skater on the sidewalks near my house. My skates were the key kind which attached to my shoes, always shoes, never sneakers. I’d sit on the front steps,  loosen the sliders on the under part of the skates then put my feet in and move the slider up and down until the skates perfectly fit my feet. I’d then tighten the slider bolts. The next part needed my key which I always kept on a string around my neck when I skated. The string was a necessity because losing the key was about the worst thing to happen. That key loosened or tightened the clamps at the top of my skates, the clamps which held on to my shoes. Once the clamps were as tight as I could get them the last thing to do was to buckle the leather strap which went across my foot.

I loved how strange the bottoms of my feet felt as I skated. It was like a tingling sensation. Coupled with that was the great sound of skates rolling across the sidewalks. It was almost like the sound of a revving motor.

The skates never really glided and didn’t do well dealing with big bumps or cracks in the sidewalks. I didn’t care; however, I did sometimes fall after encountering a crack and often skinned my knees. Blood trails went down my legs. They were like badges of honor because I’d get right back up and skate again, blood or no blood.

We went to the skating rink occasionally and rented shoe skates. The rink was in Medford, the next town over, and was called The Bal-A-Roue. It looked a bit like a hockey rink. The skating part was oval and surrounded by a railing. The surface, though, was wooden. An organ played the music so easy even now to recognize as skating music. I love going there.

When I’d get home, my skirt or my pants were usually dirty from the number of times I fell on that wooden floor. I admit the railing and I were great friends.