Generational Upgrade

 The guy at the bike shop reminded me of the Ship of Theseus.  It is a paradox that poses the question: is a ship that has had all of its wooden planks replaced piece by piece over time remains the exact same ship? He brought it up to me in reference to "Archimedes' Ship," which is a bit confusing, since Archimedes did a lot of work on buoyancy, but wasn't much of a philosopher. Then again, there are those who would insist that Matt Damon has nothing to do with Ulysses. 

That's not me, mind you, but I digress. 

The discussion was based on the top to bottom, over and under, side to side reclamation of my bicycle. After parking my bike in the basement after the last day of school before summer break, I didn't pedal a block on it for two months, moving it from left to right as we hauled things out to give or throw away in an effort to reduce the surplus of stuff and junk down there. It was not until the week before my return to school that it occurred to me that I might want to check out the condition my bike's condition was in. 

A quick ride down the street let me know that I had forgotten just how bad things had gotten in spoke and sprocket land. 

Really bad. 

So I loaded my Dawes Eclipse City  flat bar hybrid two-wheeler on the bike rack and drove it to the bike shop. A brief assessment from an expert let me confirmed what I had already imagined: the patient was critical, and the outlook was better than terminal, but not by much. Chain, derailer, crank, tires, brakes, shifters and overall deportment were all part of a laundry list of maladies that needed treatment. 

I left it there with the understanding that the deposit I had left was going to be a fraction of what it would take to get me back on the road. Sails replaced. Planks replaced. Rigging replaced. When I once again tossed a leg over the frame, would it still be my bike?

In thirty years of teaching elementary school, I have had four bicycles. I bought the first one from one of the accountants at my old job at a book warehouse for fifty bucks. The next one came to me as a gift from my wife who announced that, "We may never own a new car, but you can have a new bike." The third was a replacement for the second which was "donated" to the community after I left it in the front hallway at school while the door was propped open. That was a Wal-Mart special that only lasted a few months. It was not up to a daily commute. 

The Dawes Eclipse City was. It served me well for a good long time, and endured all the DIY fixes I could throw at it until one day it didn't. All the inner tubes and brake pads and WD-40 that I had used up on my trusty steed just wasn't enough. In the end, I paid enough to buy several old accountant's bikes to get mine back on the road. 

The second week of school, I was back in action. On my nearly new bike.