It was my birthday, maybe I was eight, maybe I was ten. This isn't the actual picture, my bike was worse. It had more heavy metal on it. The chain guard was made to look like part of a rocket ship, so help me it did. It was supposed to look cool.
Mom and Daddy could hardly contain their excitement, They brought it in the house and put a big bow on it. It took two men to get it up the front steps--just kidding about that part, but not kidding a whole lot. That bike was a beast.
This one weighs 76 pounds and mine did too--at least. It cost a fortune, otherwise why would Mom and Daddy be so proud?
My cousin, Holly had a new bike too. Uncle Bliss and Aunt LaVern were thrifty. He taught Seminary for the entire South Sevier High School. He was also the Stake President for seventeen years--Stake President to at least six little towns. Yes, seventeen years so every person in the Stake who had a son or a daughter get married invited them to the wedding reception. That meant hundreds of gifts to buy. They had to be thrifty.
Holly got a cheap blue bike that weighed five pounds. It did have fenders but that's all the extras it had. I think they were made of aluminum foil, painted blue.
In those days bigger was better and poor Holly had the inferior bike--for about five minutes. Whenever we went anywhere she sailed, I pumped. She lifted her feet up on the handlebars and coasted. I stood up and pumped hard. I hated that bike but Mom and Daddy were so proud, what could I say? I pumped and sweat and lagged behind.
After I grew up that old bike--probably because Mom and Daddy had paid so much for it--never got thrown away. It was in Daddy's shop and every time my nieces and nephews came down they had to ride that bike. They gave it the name: The Clunker.
I probably have inferiority complexes by the dozens from that horrible bike. I'm so happy to finally be able to give a name to the cause. I'm a product of The Clunker. I feel much better now.