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Some Chicago Boyz know each other from student days at the University of Chicago. Others are Chicago boys in spirit. The blog name is also intended as a good-humored gesture of admiration for distinguished Chicago School economists and fellow travelers.
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My oldest kid just returned my road bike in perfect condition, having acquired his own much superior machine. A mixed blessing – at my age, I’m happier fixing them than riding them.
Subjects for another day: how my 80 yr. old Dad wrecked his knee falling off his mountain bike; how the only brother of mine who still smokes (we all used to) rides 25 mi. per day; why clipless pedals are really not a great idea for the novice mountain biker, especially not when the Red Cross has issued an appeal for blood donors; why triathlons would be OK if 1/3 of the route did not involve water (in particular, water that is salty, quite cold, afflicted with waves, and not very clean); how unfair it is that tiny 14 year old girls are not even breathing hard when their Dads have to walk the stupid bike 1/2 mi. out of the shrubbery (did you know that mountain laurel forms new roots where their branches touch the ground? and that they form lovely but impassible tangles called “laurel hells”?) to wash the mud out of their impressive new gouges; and other interesting topics.