Moving On From 'Bikeshop Guy'

To sell, or not to sell... Thirty years of my seventy-three are invested in being bicycle shop owner/janitor. Sixty of my years have seen me 'in love' with bicycles. There's no better tool for living the good life. Perspective, and down to earth awareness of what the human body is capable of, is provided by living many hours on a bicycle...and many, many hours juggling the components of bicycles. Wrenching gives me an appreciation for how things work and reinforces my sense of accomplishment while boosting my confidence. To keep a business afloat through the convoluted array of obstacles that lay downriver for any 'Mom and Pop' business is something I am quite proud of. Now, if I can convert this career into sufficient retirement funds and energy to go out and realize a decade of 'senior adventures', I will go out a "Winner".

A Life Lived With Limited Funds

I always believed that being wealthy would be a curse. Not that I didn't strive toward having more, but I always felt like I was in a "comfort zone". There's plenty of evidence out there that I was correct. In the late 1960's I had a girlfriend who's great-grandfather had founded a wildly successful drug manufacturing company. There was no doubt about her financial future. Her father loved to show off his indoor pool and movie theater. He more than once pointed out that the theater's wallpaper included a 14k goldleaf design. She and I loved swimming in Lake Michigan and chasing each other through the mammoth dunes. That all came to an end just before graduation...Her father gave her a car to drive to her Ivy League woman's college...Wellesley in Massachusetts. The car...an Excalibur Roadster in yellow with fancy chrome sidepipes. Out of my league, for certain. I harboured no fantasies about living a life of luxury and my definition of 'The Good Life' entailed a story of health, freedom and adventure. After my graduation from a California State University I donned a Kelty backpack and wandered the North American continent for nearly three years while surviving on a shoestring budget. I often refer back to that experience for reassurance that you don't need much to feel satisfied or happy with a humble existence.