OK this is one of my funny stories, well at least now it is, back then it was not! It was a great summer day in Colorado. Summer in Colorado is heaven, since you basically spend most of your days during the Winter , Spring, and Fall indoors, or sleping to work or school in the snow, so when summer arrives it is indeed a great time to be had, cause you can finally get outside without a shirt and just wear shorts.

During summers of my childhood when I was about 13, my mom would let me ride my bike to places that were, well within biking distance. One of those places was the local Dairy Queen. So here I am freedom to bike anywhere, so I decide to bike on over to the ol DQ. I gathered up my 2 bucks, and threw on some cutoff jeans. Cutoff jeans then were the sheet man, just take some old jeans, cut off the legs and you were stylin for the entire summer. Cutoffs get dirty? Cut some more legs off your other pants, and you are good to go. I did this all summer, till my mom found out and yelled at me for cutting off too many. Man she was pissed when she found out I had cut off all the pants legs of my entire wardrobe. A learning experience there fo sho!

Anyway, I put the cutoffs on, no shirt, grabbed my money and my bike and I was off.

I cruised up to the DQ , and got one of those blue, red and white Popsicles, back then they called them bomb pops. The bomb pop was a Popsicle that had like three different types of flavors, they are still around but I don't think they are called bomb pops anymore. I get my bomb pop and promptly eat it right there, slurp it was gone! A lady looked at me like I was a homeless kid or something, that hadn't eaten in awhile. Good thing I had some more dough. So I bought another bomb pop , jumped on my bike and headed home.

What a great feeling , riding along the street with my bomb pop, eating , and bikin' .Life was good! I loved to ride, and would ride without any hands. The bomb pop was so cold and delicious I could not wait to get home to really enjoy it, while watching Gilligan's Island! So there I was riding with no hands eating the bomb pop, when I decide to switch positions on the seat. This bike was crazy , it was one of those old Schwinn' bikes, that had the long banana seat , and the sissy bar on the back. My mom had bought it for me at a garage sale for like 5 bucks. It was a piece of crap, but I didn't care, it was mine and was paid for. There was one problem with it, that I had no idea was a problem until other kids on the block made me intimately aware of. You see the problem with the bike, was it was a girl's bike! The neighborhood kids would never let me hear the end of it, but you know , that was the sign of the times, people didn't have that much money, and you got what you got. Now in my family today, I tell my kids you get what you get and don't pitch a fit, it seems to work, although they really don't appreciate the small things. I suppose none of us do when we are kids, until we get older, much older.

Back to riding the bike, I was cruising along on this great summer day, no hands, eatin that bomb pop, I switched positions, and all of a sudden, I see a huge rock in the street, I try to avoid it, but with no hands that is tough, so you guessed it, my wheels turned inward and the bike just simply stopped, but I kept going. Everything was moving in slow motion as I began to sail over the handle bars, and look back at the bike that was laying there in the street. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the neighbor lady watch in horror, I think she even shrieked. Then no mo slo mo, everything sped up and I saw the black asphalt in my field of vision, and blamo, whamo, there I lay in the middle of the street with road rash,bleeding, and friggin bomb pop all over my body. You know how kids are when they get hurt, sometimes they just lay there stunned, well that was me. I lay there in the street not moving, and the neighbor lady freaking out came to see if I was ok. I got up in a daze, bomb pop still on my face, the lady asked me if I was alright, and I just looked at her, and grunted. I gathered up my bike, my wounded pride, and limped home, while the lady just stood there in the street and watched me leave.

When I finally got home, I started crying, not because I was hurt, but my bomb pop was gone, too funny.

Stupid, but it is one of those memories I will always think about, life was simple, and the worst thing that happened all summer was the bomb pop got smashed on the pavement, and I had some really good scars to talk about.It made me a little tougher, I mean how hard was that anyway, I was riding a girls bike! Life was indeed simple then.

Terry Runion
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