Hey buddy, your child will remember the trauma.

I stumbled across this finely engineered machine the other day and was socked with a flashback deep into the last century.

As a wee lad, a lot of time was spent wedged into a rickety plastic seat which was bolted to a rickety sparkle green Holiday Cruiser 10 speed that my dear mother picked up at a Holiday Gas Station in 1970 during her road trip to start college.

The bike was an impulse purchase along with a pack of gum. As I write this, I'm confused as to why a gas station would even be selling bicycles. It's not like a bicycle would have been any cheaper than a tank of gas, even back in the days of yore. Maybe gas stations sold bikes as a last resort remedy for all the broken down Volkswagens that would have been on the road during that era.

Talk about one of those things that makes you go hmm...

I would just love to be there the day daddy decides to branch out and give his son a front row seat introduction to the world of mountain biking. I have a hunch the look daddy will have on his face when he realizes he's impaled his son on a bar end will be rather priceless.