Reasons to own a BMX bike shop.

It's always closed. Downstairs in the basement is a makeshift skatepark where the owner decided would be a good outlet for himself as well as the kids (the ones in the know at least) to stay in from the winter cold while still having ramps and metal piping to play on. "Shit, I'd rather have them in my basement than being outside getting into trouble. At least here I know where they are." *this is what community care looks like* Inside, the store is nondescript, skateboard boys as interior designers. Some shoes, some shirts, some bike parts, some bikes. Walk toward the back, two couches covered in doritos and bike bits, gamer mags, Hannah Montana toys (BMX bikers eventually grow up and have daughters who hang around the store bored out of their mind wishing they were elsewhere). A flatscreen TV with a huge iguana to the right of it sitting under a heat lamp, also surely bored out of her mind). Alongside this makeshift living room/lobby/waiting room are bike repair stands where two owners (Alex and Jeff) spend most of their time putting bikes together, swapping parts, selling road bike conversions, and serving as therapists/social workers to the boys. At any given late afternoon you could hear the following from a 13 year old's mouth. "That Tat I paid for was 350 not 175 because the fucker charged me under the table cause I couldn't sign consent," "I touched her titties but she got scared and walked back to Chem," "I love this show *pointing at The Brady Bunch*." I spent many afternoons on the couches waiting for my bike and just taking in the community. It reminds me somewhat of being 15 in Los Angeles in a friend's home covered in dirty clothes, games, pornography, cds, records, and feeling right at home (Mr. Dobalina, Mr. Bob Hata Dobalina). The owner likes to weave his stories into his time in the shop. "...when I was their age..." He tells the story to Ang and I. Youth. Violence. Carelessness. Ego. Desert Storm. And then the condom breaks. And the back gives out. And the leg gets fractured in 7 spots. A handful of moves, a handful of bad decisions. Then humility. Then grace. Then a botched health care plan turned right and some money out of "thin air." "Call my mobile phone in another few hours and i'll have disassembled your Raleigh. Your rims will be here on Tuesday but it'll take me a day to get the closed hubs you want...Ooh, and i'll call my friend about the bike stand. There's paint and shit on it but its solid." He told us when the summer comes around, we have to come join him and ride BMX bikes into Lake Michigan off street ramps. "Right around 5am. We'll drink and skate and just hang till then. It hurts if you land wrong but you gotta come." Ang shook her neck, that move that suggests a finger snap, and grinned at him "we're all over that ish. Just tell us when and we're there."

*In a Harvard symposium going on at that very moment*:
Myth #1 It's too late to start something that ambitious.
Myth #2 You're better off without it.
Myth #3 Watching it is just as good as living through it.
*Charlie peeks her head into the window of the lecture and screams "What is IT!!!?", smiles, and runs off karate kicking into the air.*