Friday, June 13, 2008

Fountain of Youth....

The other night when I was riding home from downtown after stopping by the library to check out some DVDs for the weekend, I realized how incredibly happy and free I felt zipping down the street on my bike at night, lights a flashing. It took me a moment to realize that it was an emotional deja vu that overcame me, since I felt like I was back in college, feeling the like world had possibilities. Perhaps bicycles are a metaphor for possibility? Singer songwriter Amy Correria thinks so:

Amy Correia The Bike lyrics

I became the heiress to a red and rusted bicycle
Built like a tank from Sears Roebuck circa 1952
It had been entrusted to me by my late great uncle Pat
And I guess he didn't ride it much
Both tires on the bike were flat
Pat had died at Christmas time in 1991
He had fallen off the wagon
And he sunk into a Christmas funk
My father he had found him
Two days after he had died
Well he drank himself to death one night
In a little home he owned by the seaside
So I took the bike and I cleaned it up
My father he patched up the tires
Am I going to town or just spinning my wheels
And when I die I wonder how it feels
Hey and I'm riding around riding around on it
Hey just riding around riding around on it
Hey you know I'm riding around
riding around on it. Hey!
The funeral service was a few days later
At a place down the street from where he had lived
There wasn't a hell of a turn out
He had never married and he never had kids
The coffin lid was open
Pat was lying inside
His sister had a picture of a poodle named Pepper
She put it in his hand and then she cried
Now I'm riding around in the city
Through the smog and the summer heat
And I'm blowing through all the red lights
I guess you could say I'm feeling lucky
And the taxis and the trucks
Everybody's blowin' their horns
And I got a bicycle bell to ring
And I got a notion to sing as I'm riding along
Well I didn't even really know him at all
And I wonder can he see me
As I'm riding along
Riding along
The day that Pat was buried
The air was cold and clear
And we drove out to the cemetery
And snow flew around in the air
And a hired man from the State
He played taps on a coronet
And a flag was presented to his sister
For time in the service that Pat had spent
When he used to ride on the bike
Way back in ‘52
He was starting out a life
And the bike it was brand new
And life was laid before him like
a platter before a king
He was young and he was handsome
and the world was alive with meaning
The world was alive with meaning


source Music Song Lyrics

Nice cover here:

The delight of controlling your destiny makes you feel young.


At 10:51 AM , Blogger Dianna said...

a melancholy idea, but you're right, there's an exhilaration to bike riding that takes me back to when a bike was my only ticket to freedom, before i was old enough to drive or get rides.


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