Easy Come, Easy Go

Two bikes were stolen from my house the other day. I just left them in the front yard, because I am an idiot. All the thieves had to do was roll them out of my life and into theirs.

One of the bikes was really nice. I don’t know how nice because I inherited it from a friend after he died, so it didn’t cost me any money. I had put some new tires on it though, and a rack pack, and that wasn’t cheap. I also just really liked riding it. It was a nice bike, so it rode well, and it made me think of my friend. Goodbye bike.

The other bike was a piece of junk. It used to be nice, I bought it for my wife, but she has had a particular lack of time to ride a bike, what with having a baby and finishing a master’s program, and being dragged to New Mexico by her itchy footed husband. So that one isn’t too much of a loss. So long.

I’ve had bikes stolen before, of course. It’s pretty much an aspect of owning a bike, having it stolen eventually. In the past it’s upset me greatly, but this time, meh. I’d like my bike back, the one that belonged to my friend, but honestly there is an aspect of relief involved. The bike was really nice, so even when I locked it up somewhere I would worry that it would be stolen. Now I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Au revoir!

I don’t like that somebody came onto my property in the middle of the night, that’s pretty creepy. No one came in my house, though, that would be a different story altogether, I think. The outside of my house is pretty much just outside. I believe there is a significant difference between the kind of person willing to trespass on someone’s yard and the kind of person willing to actually enter a home where people are. Especially in New Mexico, it’s the wild west out here, I don’t think many people would risk a firefight to steal a tv or whatever. Maybe I’m wrong! It has happened.

Ultimately, though, my life just hasn’t changed that much. Of all the things I care about, I still own almost all of them. I just have to buy a new bike, which is kind of fun anyway. I doubt the thieves lives changed much either. I imagine they are either kids, who were just being kids and will continue to just be kids, or they were adults whose lives are so rotten that they have to steal bicycles to make ends meet. Either way, having those bikes are going to change the trajectory of their lives anymore then losing them is going to change mine. Vitae permanet.

I’m trying to think of a reason for having written all this. I guess having those bikes stolen must be impacting me to some degree, to feel the need to shout into the void about it. I think I’m just doing a bad job of making this point: people act like they have problems when they don’t, and even having those bikes stolen isn’t a real problem. Yes, that is my point. There ought to be criteria to be met in order for a situation to qualify as a problem, and whatever those criteria are, this didn’t make the cut. Sorry thieves, you got my bikes, but it ain’t even dirt on my shoulder.

Addendum: I wrote the above piece, and then I left to go get some groceries, and some kid rode by on my wife’s bike. It had actually been fixed up a bit too. Kid gave me some story about buying it off a homeless guy, and I gave him a ride home. Easy come, easy go, easy come back!

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