From Aunt Lily:

You can retire to Phoenix where…
1. You are willing to park 3 blocks away because you found shade.
2. You’ve experienced condensation on your butt from the hot water in the toilet bowl.
3. You can drive for 4 hours in one direction and never leave town.
4. You have over 100 recipes for Mexican food.
5. You know that “dry heat” is comparable to what hits you in the face when you open your oven door.
6. The 4 seasons are: tolerable, hot, really hot, and ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!!

OR You can retire to California where..
1. You make over $250,000 and you still can’t afford to buy a house.
2. The fastest part of your commute is going down your driveway.
3. You know how to eat an artichoke.
4. You drive your rented Mercedes to your neighborhood block party.
5. When someone asks you how far something is, you tell them how long it will take to get there rather than how many miles away it is.
6. The 4 seasons are: Fire, Flood, Mud, and Drought.

OR You can retire to New York City where..
1. You say “the city” and expect everyone to know you mean Manhattan ..
2. You can get into a four-hour argument about how to get from Columbus Circle to Battery Park, but can’t find Wisconsin on a map.
3. You think Central Park is “nature.”
4. You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes you multi-lingual.
5. You’ve worn out a car horn. (ed note: if you have a car)
6. You think eye contact is an act of aggression.

OR You can retire to Maine where..
1. You only have four spices: salt, pepper, ketchup, and Tabasco.
2. Halloween costumes fit over parkas.
3. You have more than one recipe for moose.
4. Sexy lingerie is anything flannel with less than eight buttons.
5. The four seasons are: winter, still winter, almost winter, and construction.

OR You can retire to the Deep South where..
1. You can rent a movie and buy bait in the same store.
2. “Y’all” is singular and “all y’all” is plural.
3. “He needed killin’” is a valid defense.
4. Everyone has 2 first names: Billy Bob, Jimmy Bob, Mary Sue, Betty Jean, Mary Beth, etc.
5. Everything is either “in yonder,” “over yonder” or “out yonder.” It’s important to know the difference, too.

OR You can retire to Colorado where..
1. You carry your $3,000 mountain bike atop your $500 car
2. You tell your husband to pick up Granola on his way home and so he stops at the day care center.
3. A pass does not involve a football or dating.
4. The top of your head is bald, but you still have a pony tail.

OR You can retire to the Midwest where..
1. You’ve never met any celebrities, but the mayor knows your name.
2. Your idea of a traffic jam is ten cars waiting to pass a tractor.
3. You have had to switch from “heat” to “A/C” on the same day.
4. You end sentences with a preposition: “Where’s my coat at? ”
5. When asked how your trip was to any exotic place, you say, “It was different!”

AND You can retire to Florida where.
1. You eat dinner at 3:15 in the afternoon.
2. All purchases include a coupon of some kind — even houses and cars.
3. Everyone can recommend an excellent dermatologist.
4. Road construction never ends anywhere in the state.
5. Cars in front of you often appear to be driven by headless people.

A few weeks ago, The Bride said that I looked like a real biker (it’s the tights), but in my mind, real bikers conquer busy streets and steep mountains, and are defined by their mileage, climbing ability, speed, or a combination of the three. They can also change a flat tire.

I haven’t changed a flat tire yet. I’d been carrying the gear (CO2 inflator, spare tube, and a tire lever) for all trips, even for short distances, and had watched YouTube videos like the one at the bottom. I even kept a squinty eye out for bikers in distress.

It took a while but I finally got that flat tire tonight over by Empire Elementary on the far east side of town. Far from annoyance, I got the front tire off and eagerly got to work. The tire lever worked like a charm and I separated rubber from rim like I was born to do it. I even found the thorn that punctured the tube. It was a Kodak moment.

I hooked the CO2 inflator to the valve and pressed the trigger. And nothing. The tube wouldn’t inflate.

The CO2 cartridge was charged but I couldn’t figure out the right combination of attaching the inflator to the valve. While I was playing around, I realized I’d emptied the cartridge and had no spares (I probably would have emptied that one with zero success, anyway). Walking home from the Empire Elementary neighborhood to the Carson Middle School neighborhood was not my first choice so I called for retrieval. The support team was in Reno, naturally.

I’ll play around with the tube and the CO2 inflator in the morning but am thinking that a good old fashioned tire pump would have saved me a couple of hours of hassle tonight. Next time I’ll be better prepared and maybe then I’ll be a real biker.

Edit: Thursday morning, I figgered out what I was doing wrong with the CO2 but still had problems getting the tire back together. The kind folks at the LBS took five minutes to fix it and I learned valuable lessons for next time. Thanks for your kind words and a big shout-out to The Bride for rescuing me last night and, more importantly, being so patient.

That’s where all three daughters were born so it must be true.