Showing posts with label obsession with bicycle maintenance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label obsession with bicycle maintenance. Show all posts

26 February 2018

I'm In Love With My...

My track record in love relationships is, to put it charitably, spotty.

Now my road and trail records are another story.


All right, that last sentence was yet another of my many lame attempts at cycling humor.  


About my relationships:  They seem to have a four-year lifespan--you know, like a Presidential term.  I found out that one of my paramours was a Republican, but that isn't what ended our liaison.


Nor did cycling.  In fact, of everyone with whom I've been involved, she was the only one who had any sort of passion for cycling.  Though hers didn't quite match mine, I didn't have to use my powers of persuasion (Yes, go ahead and laugh!) to get her to accompany me for a spin.  In fact, more than a few times, she initiated the ride and I went along.


But, my other partners--including my former spouse--had little or no enthusiasm for cycling.  The ex-cohabitant would go for a ride with me every now and again and, at one point, even wanted a bike of her own, which I bought for her. (It wasn't a gift for any particular occasion.) And when I wanted to go on a longer ride, by myself or "with the guys", we'd agree upon a day--usually Saturday--and she would spend time with the friends of hers I didn't like.


So I can't say cycling broke us up.  In fact, my riding wasn't a factor in any of my other break-ups, not even with the girlfriend (ironically, my first after my divorce) who'd never ridden a bike in her life and had no wish to get in the saddle.   (That, honestly, was a "rebound" relationship for both of us, and we both knew it.)  And then there was the boyfriend who rode with me once, and we never talked about cycling again.  Even he, as possessive as he was, at least knew that I needed a Day of Riding (Yes, it became official, more or less.) every week during the season and once or twice a month during the off-season, as weather permitted.


I guess I've been relatively lucky:  Other cyclists have told me that their riding--and the time they spend working on their bikes and shopping for parts and accessories--had something or a lot to do with the end of their relationships and even marriages.





So it was for a man in Istanbul who was identified as Burak Z.  His wife, identified as Yagmur Z., said his obsession with his bicycle damaged her mental health and left their marriage in shambles.  She has filed for divorce and is seeking 400,000 Turkish lira (about 106,000 USD) in damages.  


Instead of spending time with her, she says, he works on his machine.  He sets it up in the living room, she alleges, and cleans and fixes it daily.  "This is no ordinary attachment, he is literally in love with his bike," she explained.


I couldn't help but to think of one of the most deliriously funny songs on what is probably Queen's most deliberately campy album, Night At The Opera. 



Just substitute "bike" for "car" and the names of bike parts for the names of car parts, and the song would work for some of us.


Seriously, though:  He didn't pay attention to her.  He paid attention to his bike instead.  Now he'll have to pay her.  As much as we love our bikes, we have to remember that we can't fix our relationships with people in the same way we patch our tubes or adjust our derailleurs!