And now with a commentary, a grumpy old puppy.
I’m old, and I don’t like it.
I HATE IT!
In my day, we didn’t have these “bicycle helmets” and “kneepads” and “armpads”; flabbity floobity!
In my day, there was only one kind of helmet: it was called “use every other part of your body to shield your head if you fall off or you’ll crack your skull open”. And that’s the way it was, and we LIKED it!
In my day, we didn’t have all this attention to SAFETY and concerns about not wanting your child to fall off their bike. In my day, there was only one form of bicycling concern: it was called “if you fall off and scrape yourself somewhere and start crying enough times you’ll learn”. That’s right, it was almost encouraged to fall off your bike and sustain minor injury. Because it put the fear of God into you, and eventually when you got the little push on the concrete sidewalk and had to fend for yourself you DIDN’T fall off. And when you finally didn’t fall off, you got rewarded with a glass of soda and an ice cream bar.
You were woozy from mild concussions and bleeding all over from small cuts but you had some ice cream, and that’s the way it was, and we LIKED it! WE LOVED it, oh happy day!
That’s right, we had little to no concern for minor injuries and the only safety measure we took was to have someone looking to yell “here comes a car!” so you didn’t get plowed into while you were learning by falling off and scraping yourself to protect your skull from getting cracked open.
And that’s the way it was, and we LIKED it! WE LOVED it! Oh, happy day!!!