Evening star., 1942-01-13

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Hs.ry MeLA.ors. whisk from one
end Of the floor to the other at
breakneck speed might just as well
hang their birth certificates on their
backs. The same is true of arm
pumpers-those gentlemen who en-
danger the health Of fellow dancers
by whipping their elbows up and
down after the manner of hen
attempting to fly. And those swoop-
ing waltz boys who give the appear
ance of fat sea gulls in flight when
ever something by Strauss is played.
No one can 60 wrong on the age
Of a man who, when the music gets
hot, goes into a family remembered
version of the Charleston. or one
who, when you pass him when the
lights are low, has a glazed look IN
his eyes, and is humming bits OF
Three O'Clock in the Morning"
through clenched teeth. e
But next to dancing. it's hard to
| beat the plain, ordinary old bicycle
as tipoff on when the stork
brought a man into the world.
This is not heresay. I have It
from personal experience, because
I have been riding bicycle. have
been riding one in company with
other men, who, in laudable effort
to be farsighted, have settled on the
bicycle as the vehicle which will
eventually be the answer to wars
time Americas civilian Transports
ton problem.
We have decided that with the
automobile going going gone, and
with the horse and buggy a trif7e
| cumbersome not only to handle
but to keep, the bicycle soon will
be our chief means of getting about.
So We have organized a cycling
club here on the worlds great beach.
The same beach which Malcolm
Campbell utilized to establish many
a worlds speed record. We have
been accustoming ourselves to riding
bicycles.
Already We have fallen into dif-
ferent classes. There are the early
20s" riders. the middle 20s' riders.
the middle 3Os" riders, and so on
up to the I'll ride this confounded
thing or break my neck" group.
This last named section is COM
posed of old gaffers who haven't
ridden a bicycle since it had mon
ster front wheel and who can't get
used to the new-fangled modern
machine.
Along with several others I am
middle 30s" rider. This is the
most dangerous time Of life to ride
bicycle. At 35. say, a man is not
old enough to have forgotten his
youth when he could ride without
touching the handlebars, Jump on
the bike after a running start and
do all sorts of tricks. Such aero
battles are still fresh enough in his
mind to make him feel that he stiIl
can do them.
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At the same time. he is not young
enough to do them without his
knowing-or NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.
things have happened to muscles
here and there, and his timing and
coordination have been nibbled on
by the saboteurs of Father Time.
In short, your 35-year -old bict-
clist Is a bum but doesn't know II.
So what does he do? He selects
the reddest, trickiest bike there II
preferably one with q raccoon tail
flying from the mudguardD and tries
to show on. Doggone If he won't
show the others a thing or two.
Memories of his prowess when he
was IL, delivering papers, flood his
mind. He remembers how he used
to bring the flush of pride to his
sweetheart's face by riding back.
ward while sitting on the handIe-
bars and jumping a curb while
riding without any hands and bal.
ancing so we'll he could sit on .
motionless bike =.
So he becomes kid again. That
Is. in his mind.
He tries to shoot the works.
The first time he takes his hands
of the handlebars the front wheel
spins around and he lands in the
sand. -
He attempts to ride backward and
whams into a parked automobile. 10
His stomach, his chins, his ankles
all get in the way. His pants get
tangled up in the sprocket. He looks
his age, even If he doesn't act it.
A man from Mars could drop
down. take one look, and say What
the devil is that 35-year-old wreck
doing? Trying to kill himself?"
Son. hand me down my walking
stick. ~
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