The Banana Seat Bike

My first bike I can recall in the early 70’s was a magenta (hot pink) girls bike called a Dragster.  It had a white with black pinstripe long, banana seat and high, upright handlebars that seem to be as high as a mountain now days.  After years of childhood fun and running the green lights and stopping at the stop signs I drew with chalk in front of my home in St. Clair Shores, it was retired to the family garage.  This  was the bike I even rode in the funeral procession of the deceased butterfly.

      That magenta bike from my loving parents birthed in me my favorite color of magenta, otherwise known as fuchsia.  Years later, I did not have a little girl to give it to.  My son would in no way ride a
magenta bike.  The feminine Dragster gathered rust.
 
      My father recently cleaned his garage and said, “Hey Dee!  You’ve got a bike in here.  It’s red.”  (Many men don’t know color).  “Maybe Cameron would like it.”  My father had been so busy through the
years; he didn’t realize it was in there (with all that other stuff).  But I knew.  My heart knew.  My first bike, my magenta bike, from my parents was in that garage.  I was waiting for something to do with it,
though I didn’t know what.  What did I ever have the time to do with it?  Was it really redeemable by anyone? Would this be considered a gift to anyone? Would anyone even be seen on a banana seat bike?  Could I really hoist it up on my upper living room walls like they do at Applebee’s?
 
     So I brought the bike home to free up my father’s garage.  While taking it out of my vehicle, my neighbor who restores things said someone would really go for something like that antique.  So off to Craigslist I sent my son to list it (he would receive 10% of the selling price).
 
      ‘Ryan’ contacted me with interest.  He regularly buys old bikes.  For several months we could not connect, but I was persistent.  At last, we met today.  Ryan pulled up in his gold, 1969 Mercury Monterey, which he restored.  He was the perfect person.  Then out came the dignified, pretty Dragster.  Pleasantly in his checkered shirt Ryan said, “I restore bikes like this all the time.  Ninety?”  “I’ll take it” I said.  “You’ll have to take a photo with me on it first.”  My heart really didn’t want to let that beautiful bike go.  But I consoled myself that I could let that part of me go and use the money to pay for the editor to work with me on my book.  “There is a time for everything”  (Ecclesiastes 3:1).
 
      Whatever you are holding onto, let it go.  God can give you something else in return.  What was, was for then.  Enjoy it for what it offered then.  Now allow another the blessing of having it.  Pass
it on.  Leave a heritage of any sort.  Make room for something else good God has for your life.  He is not done with you.

     I just got an email four hours past the time of the ‘changing of the bike’.  Ryan said the bike will probably be finished tomorrow, and I get pictures!  And my son gets $9!  How cool.
 
The banana seat bike…Can’t wait to call and tell my father. 
 4/29/10