Sunday, February 01, 2004
A NEW VIEW OF THE ROAD A couple of weeks ago, I confessed to someone that, like my father before me, I wear rubber bands on my pants when I ride my bike. This person, who I was attempting to impress with my lack of fashion sense, one-upped me by saying that not only does he wear rubber bands on his pants, he actually stops his bike whenever he sees a rubber band in the street, so he won't run short. I, of course, thought he was crazy--not just for stopping to pick up rubber bands in the street, but for actually believing in their existence. I had certainly never seen a rubber band in the street. That would be like seeing a stapler, or binder clips, lying casually in the bike lane, a few feet from the curb. (What other office supplies was he hallucinating, I wondered?) How would they get there? Who would drop them there? Coins, loose screws, hubcaps, sure. But rubber bands? Certainly not.
But over the last couple of weeks I started watching--and lo and behold, my eyes were opened and I began seeing rubber bands, everywhere, in the street. Today on my way to church I saw no less than a dozen on Gilman Street alone. And these are not just any rubber bands, but the good kind, the thick wide kind that hold your pants leg tight and secure. The kind I have to make an extra effort to find in the collection of rubber bands strewn throughout my desk drawer. I found myself almost stopping one day, when I saw a nice thick one in a lovely teal blue. Of course I couldn't do that, not after I had mocked my friend so mercilessly, expounded so eloquently on the health hazards of picking up random rubber bands on the street ("My goodness! Who knows where they've been!")
But over the last couple of weeks I started watching--and lo and behold, my eyes were opened and I began seeing rubber bands, everywhere, in the street. Today on my way to church I saw no less than a dozen on Gilman Street alone. And these are not just any rubber bands, but the good kind, the thick wide kind that hold your pants leg tight and secure. The kind I have to make an extra effort to find in the collection of rubber bands strewn throughout my desk drawer. I found myself almost stopping one day, when I saw a nice thick one in a lovely teal blue. Of course I couldn't do that, not after I had mocked my friend so mercilessly, expounded so eloquently on the health hazards of picking up random rubber bands on the street ("My goodness! Who knows where they've been!")
