Tyrades! by Danny Tyree

“A Classic Childhood Pastime Is Fading,” blared a recent headline in “The Atlantic.”

The article lamented the fact that the number of youngsters (ages 7 to 17) who report having ridden a bicycle at least six times in the past year has fallen by nearly half since the Nineties. Fewer than five percent reported riding “frequently.”

(Or maybe they’re just LATE in reporting, as in “Hey, Mom, I was supposed to tell you I need you to whip up a diorama of Victorian London in time for school today. And, oh yeah, Liam and I discovered an alien portal in the creepy woods outside town last Saturday.”)

This data comes from the National Sporting Goods Association and is corroborated by data from the National Vegetating in the Basement Association.

Don’t blame it all on the kids. Parents have not exactly set a sterling example about the need for exercise. Many young viewers have been traumatized by movies such as “The Goonies” and “E.T.” (“I can’t believe it — those kids are traveling around on non-stationary CLOTHES RACKS!”)

But it would be misleading to perpetuate the nose-stuck-in-a-smartphone stereotype of modern youngsters. The article does not shame kids for failure to pedal around in the fresh air, but in fact acknowledges their pent-up desire for freedom.

Unfortunately, higher speed limits, heavier automobiles, ill-designed intersections and other factors have made bicycle travel a daunting task compared to the days of “The Brady Bunch.”

Additionally, our shifting standards for heroes have tarnished the allure of bike-riding. Adventurous pre-teen explorers used to be placed on a pedestal. (“You went across the county line? And brought back these neat arrowheads? Cool!”) Now they’re more likely to have their statues torn down. (“He’s a colonizer! Let’s show him where he can stick his Schwinn!”)

The writer opines that the navigation and decision-making of bike excursions can rewire young brains toward confidence and self-esteem. Of course, even “stay at home” or “shuttled to events by their parents” children become more creative without the crutch of a bike to leave lying in the driveway for dad to back over with the station wagon. (“Now, where did I leave those Faberge eggs?” *CRUNCH!*”)

The article postulates that bike-friendly city planning will bring more children outdoors and thereby increase overall neighborhood bonding. (“Hey, neighbor! I’m Tommy’s dad. Been dying to say hello – and borrow your chainsaw – so I can carve up that campaign sign posted by the jerk at the end of the street.”)

I must admit I am an outsider on this subject. Complications from chickenpox did a number on me when I was the prime age for learning to ride a bike (leaving my sense of balance only slightly more balanced than that of an Iranian newscast covering Irving Forbush’s bar mitzvah), and attempts to find a safe, peaceful practice venue as an adult invariably tempt fate. (“We normally stage the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain; but the GPS got it wrong by a few thousand miles.”)

Still, I’m optimistic that bikes can restore their glory days, just as long as kids swerve to miss the milkman, keep their coonskin cap from blocking their vision and wear clean underwear in case they have an accident and the doctor makes a house call.

Norman Rockwell would pop a wheelie for the chance to paint the scene!