Friday Bishes

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IK,R? And apparently when a kid (or anyone, I guess) learns on a bike with hand brakes and then gets a bike with coaster brakes, the learning curve is *interesting*, b/c they're not used to the bike suddenly stopping just because they pedal backwards.

Now me, I rode my first bike with gears and hand brakes - a borrowed "English racer"!! :eek: - in fifth grade in my hilly Virginia suburban neighborhood. Apparently, halfway down Bound Brook Lane, I wondered what the extra handles were and pulled on them. Woke up the next morning wrapped in bandages, concussed and missing a fair amount of skin, with no memory of anything that happened after getting pretty dang fast on the hill.

Luckily, it was one of those neighborhoods in the 60's where you could knock yourself unconscious in front of a stranger's house, and she'd figure out whose kid you were and call your mom. Who then called your dad, who came home and bandaged you up. #FeralMiddleClassWhiteKidsBackInTheDay
 
IK,R? And apparently when a kid (or anyone, I guess) learns on a bike with hand brakes and then gets a bike with coaster brakes, the learning curve is *interesting*, b/c they're not used to the bike suddenly stopping just because they pedal backwards.

Now me, I rode my first bike with gears and hand brakes - a borrowed "English racer"!! :eek: - in fifth grade in my hilly Virginia suburban neighborhood. Apparently, halfway down Bound Brook Lane, I wondered what the extra handles were and pulled on them. Woke up the next morning wrapped in bandages, concussed and missing a fair amount of skin, with no memory of anything that happened after getting pretty dang fast on the hill.

Luckily, it was one of those neighborhoods in the 60's where you could knock yourself unconscious in front of a stranger's house, and she'd figure out whose kid you were and call your mom. Who then called your dad, who came home and bandaged you up. #FeralMiddleClassWhiteKidsBackInTheDay
Damn Skippy!
 
Damn Skippy!
Note that it seems not to have occurred to my mother to take me (the unconscious 10-year-old) to the ER or anything. No, she calls my dad, who was at work in the Army Surgeon General's office in Falls Freakin' Church VA, to come home and deal with it.

There's a reason for all those "OK, Boomer" moments! I think we all had at least one episode of untreated TBI when we were growing up. :p
 

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