As you get older, things are not always as you remember ‘em. If you remember ‘em at all! That was the topic of conversation last week when the Women Who Run With the Moose got together for our regular girls night out. Betty was hosting, and she was serving these watermelon margaritas, which, to be honest, are kind of an acquired taste. Luckily, after half a glass, you don’t really care! Plus, they’re garnished with melon balls, so they qualify as a fruit, right?
Celeste says, “Remember how I told you that Bud and me were thinking about buying a couple of bikes? You know, it was something we used to do as teenagers, ride around together. We thought it’d be fun.”
“Oh, no,” goes Shirley.
I chime in “That sounds like something destined to end in tears.”
“You’re not far from the mark, Ida. The first thing that started crying was our bank account. When did bikes get to be so expensive?”
“Jeez,” Rita says, “why didn’t you just buy a couple at a yard sale or something?”
“Well, we figured if we’re going to do it, we might as well do it right. You know, bikes have come a long way since our old one-speeds. Plus, now you got all the paraphernalia to go with it: water bottle, helmet, gloves…”
Dottie jumps in. “You didn’t get a pair of them biking shorts did you?”
Rita adds, “After a certain age, bike shorts and a helmet aren’t all that attractive.”
“No, we drew the line with them bike shorts. The helmets were off-putting enough. Then you got your helmet hair, after.”
“Helmet hair?”
“Worse than hat hair, I can assure you.”
“OK, OK, we’re dying to know. How’d you make out with the bikes?” I ask.
“Well, we get the things home, and Bud rides to the end of the street and back. Then he looks at me and goes, ‘Not like I remember it.’ And he was right! Not even close. First off, you got all them gears to figure out.”
“And the wind’s not whipping through your hair because of the helmet.”
“Right!”
Rita jumps in, “Oh, I loved that. Racing down the hill, feeling free.”
“There’s none of that,” Celeste says. “It’s just me with this dorky helmet on, riding the brake, so I don’t pick up too much speed, fall off and break a hip.”
“Oh, honey!”
“I don’t know what we were thinking. That we’d recapture our youth or something? And we spent all that money on the bikes…”
“Hang in there, Celeste,” Betty says. “It’s got to get better. You know, practice?”
“I’m trying. In fact, a couple of days ago, I went out for a ride before work, trying to get more comfortable with it, so’s I can keep up with Bud. When I got home, I sent him a text. I have it right here: ‘went biking. did good except I fell at the end but I’m alright.’ He sends me this one back: ‘happy to hear you broke bones.’ I think he might have left some words out. Don’t you?”
“Sounds that way.”
“What happened to just jumping on your bike and riding fast and carefree?”
Dottie says, “At our age, there’s a lot of things that aren’t as good as you remember.”
“Like sex,” Shirley jumps in. “It’s serviceable. Sometimes, I have to admit, it’s pretty good. But it doesn’t quite, I don’t know, pack a punch like I remember.”
We shake our heads in agreement and sigh.
“Well, one thing that never changes, “I says, “is the importance of fruit in your diet. Another round of watermelon margaritas, everyone?”
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Just Like Riding a Bike
Last chance to see Ida on stage this summer.
July 30, Makin’ Whoopie!, 7:00, The Footlights Theatre, Falmouth, ME