Monster BMX

Ssssssssss — no, that’s not the sound of a flat tyre, rather my own deflation.
Despite my funny age and just-​about-​grown-​up legs, I bought a BMX online. But this child of the 80s has had trouble ironing out its kinks following self-​assembly. If I’d have known about this place, I could have saved myself the bother and been helping out E. T a lot quicker. Well, that or cycling round the park in a duffel coat, with only the top button done up, impressing the birds and that.
For a man — there, I said it — who should know better, there are some familiar brands from back in the day: GT, Diamond Back and the less exotic Raleigh. There are also the very 21^st century-​sounding names, We The People and Alienation. I guess riders these days must feel part of — or adrift from — a supposed urban collective. Back when I was in the saddle, I was just happy going to the post office for a foam glider and cleaning my mag wheels with some old pants. Perhaps I should have been bringing butties to striking miners instead and, navigating bollards, said: «mom, it’s like a jungle out there.»