Being The Third Wheel

"Man, I know how you feel -- third wheel.

I have been the third wheel so many times in my life ...

my mom told me something once that made me feel a lot better.

she said the third wheel is what makes it a tricycle."

-- "Michael Scott," The Office

Three wheeler 7-10-14

Yesterday Leo invited me to go on a trip to the thrift store with him and his girlfriend, Mackenna.

I thought maybe he just wanted me to go along so I could pay. So I gave him 20 bucks and said they could go alone. He gave the money back and said no, they actually wanted me to come.

I asked if he was sure.

I didn't want to horn in on their time together.

I didn't want to be that weird mom who inserts herself where she isn't wanted.

I didn't want to be that awkward third wheel.

But he insisted, saying "We want you to come. Mackenna likes you."

Awww!

So I went.

I rode in the back seat of Leo's car and listened to their adorable, entertaining banter.

Mackenna and I helped Leo pick out a couple of pretty cool shirts.

Then I left the two of them alone and cruised around the music section while Leo waited for Mackenna try on dresses. She found a pretty great little sweater dress, and I found a used Indigo Girls "Shaming of the Sun" CD.

Being the third wheel is typically a bad thing. Shadowing along behind two people who are all gaga in love with each other and who don't even notice whether or not you're there isn't all that fun.

But our little threesome to the thrift store wasn't about all that. It was simply about three people who enjoy something in common, doing that thing together.

Leo and Mackenna enjoy the treasure hunt atmosphere of searching for vintage-y treasures buried in the clothing racks.

So do I.

They enjoy getting really great stuff for practically pennies.

So do I.

They both like straying from the high school herd and wearing unique clothes that aren't emblazoned with the same "guess where I buy my socially acceptable clothes" logos.

So do I.

We all like the thrift store because you never know what abandoned little gems might be quietly waiting on a dusty shelf for you to notice them and maybe take them home -- like the warm fuzzy feeling that your kid isn't embarrassed by you, and that he likes you enough to take you out in public with his girlfriend and actually share his life with you.

I paid for our finds -- they didn't cost much.

But that last little treasure -- that one didn't cost me anything at all. Just a little bit of time.

It didn't go into the bag with the other stuff.

I carried that one home in my heart.

Riding My Two-Wheeler

"A good bicycle, well applied, will cure most ills this flesh is heir to."

-- Dr.  K.K. Doty

Fat tire two wheeler with wire basket 4-13-14

"A bicycle ride is a flight from sadness."

-- James E. Starrs

"Cycle tracks will abound in Utopia."

-- H.G. Wells

They say you never forget how to ride a bicycle.

I'd argue that you also never forget the very first time you did it.

I must have been 4 or 5 when my dad took the training wheels off my little red and white Schwinn, trotted along beside wobbly me until I found my balance, and then finally let me go.

And even though I can't remember my exact age when it happened, I will never forget how it felt the very first time I rode a two-wheeler.

I only made it past a couple of mailboxes down our dirt road before crash-landing in the ditch (Lesson #2, Using the coaster brakes), but I'd done it. I'd tasted smooth, unbridled freedom. It was the best feeling in the world. 

I wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

I couldn't get enough.

I still can't.

And even though I've traded my little red Schwinn for an expensive, multi-geared, high-tech, feather-light, narrow-tired road machine, and my scuffed up Stride Rite sneakers for clip-on cycling cleats, and my Toughskins for aerodynamic padded Lycra tights, the feeling I get riding a two-wheeler hasn't changed a bit. 

Smooth, unbridled freedom tastes the same no matter how old you are or how fancy your stuff is.

If you have a bike and you haven't ridden it in a long time, why don't you dust it off, clean it up, grease your chain, pump up your tires and get out there. A bike doesn't have to be high-tech or look super-cool to feel great. So what if the baby seat is still attached and your baby is in college? A baby seat is just the right size and shape for a bag of groceries or a couple of six packs. Just remember to strap them in. I know a lady who takes her two elderly Dachshunds for rides in the pull-behind Burley bike trailer she bought for her grandkids. I see them cruising all over town, and it's pretty damned adorable. 

Sometimes I like to just go cruising on my heavy old retro "Susie one-speed" with her fat tires, wide springy seat and basket on the front.  

Anyhoo ...

This is all by way of saying that yesterday, after many winter months on the indoor trainer, I finally got back on the road. (I still ride a red and white bike. I guess that hasn't changed either.) It was chilly. It was windy. It was glorious. It was the best feeling in the world.

I want to do it again. And again. And again.

And I will.

Whoever said "enough is enough" was obviously not a cyclist.