Farewell Bluesy.

I pushed off. Each foot planted on its rightful pedal. Ready to meet my friends for a night of discussion, wine and good food. Talks of our inner artistry. Talks of the enchanted, dazzling and bright, scary and uncharted forests that surround our dailies.
I pedaled leisurely yet promptly. Right on Vista, left on Temple. A man washing his car. He was a forty something dad with curly, bleached tips. The artsy kind of dad whom his kids friends' could never figure out. An older lady smiling broadly as she rode her cruiser in the opposite direction, groceries in her basket. A small chill in the air. The sun was setting on this late April evening.
Summer is going to be a delight, I thought to myself.
People walking in their homes with bags of groceries, long days under their feet. A young boy walking his bigger-than-self Poodle/Great-Dane mix. We exchanged hello's.
I turned right on First and pulled my phone out of my pocket to glance at the time. I was running a bit late. But no need to hurry, everyone that awaited me would want me to enjoy this ride. As I turned the corner the sun greeted me square in my sunglassed-covered eyes. Thanks yard saler for having a sale.
First street is broad, tree lined and familial. It has grass lined sidewalks and stop signs at every cross street--in my favor. I was cruising now. Humming a tune as I went, making up story lines for the people that passed; we were having a gay ol' time, Bluesy and I. I thanked Bluesy for her loyalty to my sister and I. I thanked her for not ever being fussy or temperamental, like some bicycle friends we know. I thanked her for her ease and comfort.
Right on Hermosa Ave. I have arrived. I surveyed the scene for the best lockup location. We were closer to downtown. Closer to hoodlums, convicts and rejects. Something bad was going to happen. Someone was going to steal my bike. Someone was going to take Bluesy from us... forever! ... No! Of course I wasn't really thinking that. I did feel a lack of faith in my piddly wire combination lock, however.
Ahh, what the hay, I want to go eat. I'll attach Bluesy to the tree, where another bike was locked, that might be Erica's in fact. Great. Plan. Executed. I hopped right up the stairs to dinner only to hop right back down 3 hours later to the remains of a clipped lock and Bluesy out of sight forevermore. I knew it, I said out loud. I knew I shouldn't have locked her there. My sister's bike, Bluesy was. Dangit!

Wherever you are, Thieving-Bluesy-rider; know that you will never appreciate her like we did. That sticker on the handle bars, we put that there. The erratic basket...at least return the basket! The streets that her tires love the most...you'll never know. The bluff overlook that she likes to gaze toward Catalina at, you'll never enjoy with her. She won't treat you as good as she treated us. Because you stole her from us. All I can say now is that you better ride her a lot. It helps me to think that you might have needed Bluesy more than I do, so I release her to you. Enjoy her because she's a real gem. And when you're done, pass her on so that someone else can enjoy her too. We sure will miss you Blue.