There are many things that can go wrong in the course of our lives. For the most part, we overcome them and soldier on. Of the many misfortunes transpired within our forgotten pasts, there is one particular pathos that we can never seem to fully erase. We never forget the day we lost our bike. It’s because we lose so much more at that moment than just the steel and rubber. Our bikes to us are often so much greater than the sum of their parts, especially to a kid. I suppose that those of us who have lived it can always feel sympathy when we hear of someone losing their bike, and perhaps a bit of anger at the thought of some heartless thief out there possessing what was supposed to always belong to us. There are two classic films that put all of this into a great visual and emotional perspective, Vittorio De Sica’s 1948 classic “Ladri di Biciclette“, and Tim Burton’s 1985 manic “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure“.
Rarely have I ever encountered anyone who successfully recovered a lost or stolen bike. As a kid, I always imagined that all our lost bikes where somehow spirited overseas somewhere, in a great international stolen bike network. I could almost picture my beloved lime green Schwinn being misused by trained Baboons at some roadside carnival somewhere near Istanbul. So, when I came across these hand written signs around my neighborhood today, It made me smile. That’s one bike that hopefully will go home again. Thanks, Mister. From all of us.
I had two of my favorite bikes taken from me when I was younger: one a nice standard beach cruiser, with fold down foot rest on the front tires (you know, to give the ladies a ride on the handle bars!) and the other my self-built chrome and red GT Pro Series from parts I managed to buy every few weeks at the Rosemead swap meet. I was pretty sad about it. But needless to say, what goes around comes around, and I found my own special way of making things right, but I ain’t telling! 😉
I lost so many bikes as a kid it’s not even funny. My dad would be pissed and disappointed that I got jacked by a freaking crack head.
its like a rare view into the mind of a crack head having some karmic issues.
i’d love to see video of this person writing these notes from the crack den, sweating and smiling and stressing and sad and depressed then happy.
Back in the days my dad told me he bought my brother this expensive as bike this brand called Mongoose or something like that and he went to play video games and locked his bike up on the rack when he came out he saw a big ass dude who litterly picked up and jacked the bike rack along with his bike.
man my dad was pist
I always had the cheap swapmeet bikes after that but i guess that’s what swapmeeteras get lol
i wonder how he got a hold of the bike, he probably stole it from a crack head thinking it was stolen, but what if it wasnt?
El Chavo’s quote:
…”what goes around comes around, and I found my own special way of making things right, but I ain’t telling!” 😉
http://i287.photobucket.com/albums/ll128/psychoworks13/ChavoDeathWish.jpg
When I saw the first picture above, I thought the phone number was blotted out on the paper itself! What a cruel-but funny-joke, I thought. I couldn’t stop laughing.
Then I realized it was you who did that to keep some good samaritan’s number private. It still would have been funny though.
ANyway, yes, I’ve had many bikes stolen. They all still hurt. I try not to think about it.
I got my bike stolen when I was 14 from my front lawn! I went in to get a drink and relax. Came out and it was gone. A few years I saw it with some black spraypaint to hide it’s original color.
it sure does suck getting your bike jacked, I too am a victim of bike jacking…I do remember that day as if it were yesterday!!