With absolutely no apologies to Robert Frost, as that poem is totally overrated. I like “Something Like a Star” much better. Anyway, so here I am, down for the count. Healing, slowly. I have every reason to believe that I will, in fact, feel much better about life in general in a few weeks than I did before my surgery. But I have a problem I didn’t really anticipate. I have a bad case of Non-Buyer’s Remorse.
You see, I have this problem. I refuse to buy things I don’t really need, but would really like. I am not a collector of useless junk. In fact, I’m not even a collector of useful junk. I grew up as the daughter of a serious thrift store addict, and I will admit to disliking clutter. It still happens, but I attempt not to contribute. I’m the woman who routinely thinks: “I should wear those cute turquoise capris…” only to realize that I gave them to the Goodwill last year in an attempt to streamline my closet. No one else in my family seems to share this concern, and are happy to fill every available space with crap. My son has been known to save the wrappers for the rice crispy treats I put in his lunch, because I wrote “I love you” on them in Sharpie.
So a few months ago, a gentleman on Bike Forums put his vintage French constructor up for sale on Craigslist, for a price I could theoretically have paid. I “oooohed.” I “ahhhed.” I did not purchase this bike, despite the fenders with turquoise pin striping and the fancy silver chain guard. I kept photos of this bike in a folder on my hard drive, but I didn’t buy it. Someone else did.
Then up came the mint condition Japanese 50’s Skyway 3-Speed with the atomic headbadge, integral front rack and space-age partial aluminum frame that was dirt cheap and my favorite color (copper). Despite Googling it and discovering both its rarity and relative niftiness, I ignored it, because I have a 3-speed. And when I saw the ad asking if anyone wanted to buy a prewar folding Japanese Road Puppy in mint condition, I also ignored that, because I have two bikes, and do not need a third.
Today, the French constructor popped back up on my local Craigslist, for much more than was originally being charged. As far as I can tell from the far inferior new photos, the current owner has done nothing more to earn this bonus than assemble the bike, slap some new tires on it, and hold onto it for three months.
I know, I know. I don’t need another bike, much less a seventy year-old 3-speed. But I do think I’ve learned something about myself: I like bikes most when I’ve passed up the opportunity to own them.
Good thing I don’t feel the same way about boyfriends!
That is the bike when I first saw it.
If someone would like to purchase it and put me out of my misery, it’s here:
As usual, I will live with the regret.