I Told You He was Good

So I had a few posts this fall on my bike, Serra, no? The custom-built Waterford that fit me like a dream and rode even better. Apparently I am not the only one who thinks he rocks. I received this message from my bike shop:

Dear Triteacher,

I'm forwarding the message that I received from Richard Schwinn. It looks like they were impressed with your bike and would like to use a photo of it on their web site. If you are interested, I'm sure that the details would be easy to iron out.

Sincerely,
Bike Shop Guy

So guess who's being shipped to his photo shoot this morning? Movie contracts next??

Happy Holidays to everyone! I'm off to Denver for the duration. Catch you after the New Year!

Sack of Gold

"Sack of gold!"

I feel his arms wrap around my neck and by the time I hear the "duh" in gold, I am sagging beneath the full weight of my brother. I contort my 9 year-old body and try to twist away, but he is too quick and too determined. His arms extend like steel bands around my neck to my Adam's apple where his hands grasp each other in a death grip. His body sags down the length of my back, his feet drag in the lime behind mine. Up and down the barn aisle I will haul him until he is good and ready to let go.

Oh, I can plead, complain, and bemoan my fate all I want, but the unwritten rule in this unwritten game is that you pay for a lack of vigilance. The price is 80 pounds strapped to your back. You have to bear the "sack of gold." Indefinitely.

I was gifted a sack of heavy metal last week. It didn't even have the courtesy to holler "sack of gold" first. With a suddenness that knocked my breath away, it latched its ugly metallic tentacles around my neck. It lodged lead in my feet. My legs are comprised of cadmium with its sickly-blue hue, my heart cleaved into shards of Baraboo quartzite. My brain is a silvery blob of poisonous mercury, one idea rolling into another only to suddenly split off and meander into another dimension.

I am so heavy that I fear going swimming because I am sure to sink below the surface, to come to reside on the bottom of the pool where my cadmium cancer would be sure to swallow me whole - if the mercury didn't kill me first.

So instead, I've been unpacking the sack - my baggage. Looking at every nugget anew and calling into question what I once "knew" as TRUTH about myself and others. It has been painful - and shifty as mercury. Yet there are some things about which I am rock solid. Sack of gold reminded me of one of them.

Last night I phoned all eight of my siblings. We reminisced about playing Sack of Gold, and I glimpsed inside their lives to see what was in their bags.

Today, I still hurt. I still want to plead and complain and bemoan and begrudge and loathe and second-guess. I am still bearing this load. And it's heavy.

But man, it is a sack of GOLD. As in precious metal.

There are some nasty-bad nuggets in my bag, but mixed in with all of them, there are a few pieces - like my sibling relationships - that are definitively, purely... gold.

FEMININE WILES

I cried, I moped, I pouted

I raged

I was sweet
I was sexy
I wore his favorite clothes

TO NO AVAIL

I massaged his steely frame
I pumped him up
when he was low
You might even say
I "greased his chain"

TO NO AVAIL






I sought to gain purchase with gifts:
1) Tighter tights
2) Bigger, brighter headlamps
3) Racy tubes
4) A back-up tire
(I thought I was saying: I'm investing in this relationship. He heard: You're getting old.)


Then, I let go of my pride
Compromised my principles
I begged.
I want you for forever
and every day, but can't we even just have a
one
night
stand?

He yielded!
November 28, 2007
1:12.28, 19.7 MPH Avg., 24 miles, 29° F

Feminine wiles triUMPHant!

Knock Your Socks Off

I admit it.
I went into it cocky.
Told them I was going to
knock their socks off

They'd made it look so easy
effortless
I had visions of a gingerbread man extraordinaire
with a rose petal for a hat
My mind saw beautiful possibilities.

Then I took hold of the icing spoon
and the dream began to disintegrate
The icing plopped off the spoon
in goopy lumps
The sprinkles clumped together

They
- Heartless creatures! -
dubbed him
"Sumo Wrestler"
and sniggered about how I'd
Indeed
knocked their socks off.

Then
Woops!

I dropped him
facedown
onto the floor
Knocked HIS sock off...

*Sigh*
Coulda been so beautiful...