The Cycle
We were sitting in my living room, Lindsay and I, when I heard the commotion. On the street right outside my balcony I could hear music and bike bells and I shot up out of my seat.
"The bike parade! It's the bike parade!" I exclaimed with all of the excitement of a child hearing the ice cream man coming. Lindsay looked at me quizzically. I ran to the door separating us from the celebration and threw open the glass.
"It's the bike parade Linds! Get up! You have to see this!" I was breathless as I stepped onto the balcony.
And there on the street was the bike parade. Hundreds and hundreds of people on beach cruisers, mountain bikes, ten speeds, even a unicycle! rode past my home. Some were carrying boom boxes, the music playing a soundtrack for their moonlight bike ride. Others wore orange hazard cones on their heads like hats.
I started cheering, jumping up and down and clapping. I'm not kidding. My exclamations of joy caused the bikers to hoot and hollar and woohooo back at us. I stood on my porch with the biggest grin on my face.
Some might say it was the wine that caused me to act like a silly schoolgirl. It was just a bunch of people on bikes after all. But what is special about this moonlight bike parade is the mystery and memories that surround it.
Last summer around this time I was over at my (then) best friend, Adam's house. He lived in an apartment complex not unlike Melrose Place- everyone was young, attractive, sleeping with each other and staying up all night drinking. It was a nice place to visit, I wouldn't want to stay. Anyway, one night several of us were gathered on the balcony at Adam's smoking a cigarette when a throng of cyclists rode by. There were hundreds and the parade went on for miles. All of us began cheering and the riders responded, equally enthusiastically.
"You're all winners!!!" Adam yelled and the rest of the guys on the balcony joined in, joking as if it was a race instead of a leisurely moonlight ride. For the five or so minutes it took for the pack to ride by, I was engulfed in the festive mood that cheering for strangers can bring. It was just one of those moments so full of happiness, a bit indescribable I guess. Afterwards we came inside and took to Google to try to figure out what that was all about. Were they a bike riding gang taking to the mean streets of Sherman Oaks to spread their crazy cycling convictions? Unlikely. Maybe biking fanatics hoping to bring attention to their biking agenda? Doubtful. Just a bunch of happy, cruisin' cats? That's what we had to assume since we couldn't find out anything else about them.
So when I heard the chime of hundreds of bike bells ringing, I was filled with the same joy I felt that night last year.
It also made me miss my best friend Adam.
We blurred the lines between friendship and more a couple years back and we never really recovered. Now our friendship had become little more than infrequent texting, in stark contrast to the twentyfourseven butt buddiness we had once been. I still thought about him often and missed the bright light of humor and fun he brought to my life. But I also tried to have peace with the divergent paths life has taken us on.
The bike parade reminded me of how much I missed him.
And so I said so, albeit by text. To my surprise he responded quickly. And said he would stop by and see Lindsay and me.
He arrived with a bottle of wine in hand and a smile on his face. I told him all about the bike parade and how watching it made me miss him and how excited I was that they came back again.
"You're all winners!" he said with a big smile on his face and Linds and I broke into laughter.
Hugging him felt like seeing family after a very long separation. Sometimes the passing of time changes everything... but sometime it changes nothing.
"The bike parade! It's the bike parade!" I exclaimed with all of the excitement of a child hearing the ice cream man coming. Lindsay looked at me quizzically. I ran to the door separating us from the celebration and threw open the glass.
"It's the bike parade Linds! Get up! You have to see this!" I was breathless as I stepped onto the balcony.
And there on the street was the bike parade. Hundreds and hundreds of people on beach cruisers, mountain bikes, ten speeds, even a unicycle! rode past my home. Some were carrying boom boxes, the music playing a soundtrack for their moonlight bike ride. Others wore orange hazard cones on their heads like hats.
I started cheering, jumping up and down and clapping. I'm not kidding. My exclamations of joy caused the bikers to hoot and hollar and woohooo back at us. I stood on my porch with the biggest grin on my face.
Some might say it was the wine that caused me to act like a silly schoolgirl. It was just a bunch of people on bikes after all. But what is special about this moonlight bike parade is the mystery and memories that surround it.
Last summer around this time I was over at my (then) best friend, Adam's house. He lived in an apartment complex not unlike Melrose Place- everyone was young, attractive, sleeping with each other and staying up all night drinking. It was a nice place to visit, I wouldn't want to stay. Anyway, one night several of us were gathered on the balcony at Adam's smoking a cigarette when a throng of cyclists rode by. There were hundreds and the parade went on for miles. All of us began cheering and the riders responded, equally enthusiastically.
"You're all winners!!!" Adam yelled and the rest of the guys on the balcony joined in, joking as if it was a race instead of a leisurely moonlight ride. For the five or so minutes it took for the pack to ride by, I was engulfed in the festive mood that cheering for strangers can bring. It was just one of those moments so full of happiness, a bit indescribable I guess. Afterwards we came inside and took to Google to try to figure out what that was all about. Were they a bike riding gang taking to the mean streets of Sherman Oaks to spread their crazy cycling convictions? Unlikely. Maybe biking fanatics hoping to bring attention to their biking agenda? Doubtful. Just a bunch of happy, cruisin' cats? That's what we had to assume since we couldn't find out anything else about them.
So when I heard the chime of hundreds of bike bells ringing, I was filled with the same joy I felt that night last year.
It also made me miss my best friend Adam.
We blurred the lines between friendship and more a couple years back and we never really recovered. Now our friendship had become little more than infrequent texting, in stark contrast to the twentyfourseven butt buddiness we had once been. I still thought about him often and missed the bright light of humor and fun he brought to my life. But I also tried to have peace with the divergent paths life has taken us on.
The bike parade reminded me of how much I missed him.
And so I said so, albeit by text. To my surprise he responded quickly. And said he would stop by and see Lindsay and me.
He arrived with a bottle of wine in hand and a smile on his face. I told him all about the bike parade and how watching it made me miss him and how excited I was that they came back again.
"You're all winners!" he said with a big smile on his face and Linds and I broke into laughter.
Hugging him felt like seeing family after a very long separation. Sometimes the passing of time changes everything... but sometime it changes nothing.
Comments
Post a Comment