I want to ride a bicycle

I love summer in Chicago. An energy crackles in the air.

Of course it’s different this year. I don my mask when I leave the apartment now, including when I take the dog out, and silently judge those who are not wearing one (including myself because I sometimes forget). No outdoor concerts or food festivals this year. The city is allowing outdoor dining now, but I’m skipping since I cannot not think about the miasma of virus surrounding every table, even outdoors.

I pretty much keep to the 1-mile radius around my house (I don’t own a car) as I have for the last almost-four months. Around my neighborhood, colorful flowers are blooming. I saw a pack of lightning bugs the other day. The rabbits and squirrels are running amok. There’s runners and people on bikes cruising through the neighborhood. Sometimes I’m one of the runners. I want to be one of those on a bike though.

I haven’t owned a bike in years. I don’t know why. Laziness? I walk my dog a lot so biking seems extra somehow. And it is (was?) easy to hop on a bus to go anywhere in the city. But I loved riding my bike by the lake. Biking was how I got around when I lived in China. I have fond memories of a bike tour in Amsterdam. And I am so missing that ability I once had to just go, without worrying about a miasma of virus.

By the time this newsletter comes out next month, I should own a bicycle again. I will have adventures to regal you with, of peddling down Lake Shore to picnic at the Museum Campus or exploring Graceland Cemetery and Arboretum!

One thing I loved about music critique Jessica Hopper’s essay/memoir collection was how she captured life at night on a bike in Chicago. The thing about me is I’m deeply afraid, just as a person, so I would never blaze around Wicker Park like she did (in 2005! before it was so hip!) and stop at a bar before going to see friends before going to a bar before biking around the city with orange lights shining on my face and wind messing up my hair and tickling my skin and my ears catching the sound of laughter from open windows. But she did and it seemed so cool, and I worry I missed out.

Another thing about this pandemic is I wouldn’t be thinking about this or getting a bike if I was doing my same ol’ bikeless routine. Summer would be seen from the windows of a bus or a restaurant patio. But now I’m dreaming of a basket on a bike filled with beautiful bright green plants and probably a baguette because I will take any chance I can to indulge in my fantasy of being a cool Parisian.

I don’t know if I can pull off night biking (my butt is deep into my couch by 8PM) but this wannabe Parisian should be wearing a mask when she does got out, oui oui?