Holding Out For a Hero
Chapter Three of my Indie-Film Journal ‘A Virus Ate My Movie!’
“He’s a repeat offender… she’s a little desert flower.”
Who is your character?
I never thought of riding bikes as a sport. I thought of riding bikes as a gift.
“I get to ride this thing?” I thought.
“I get to build ramps and jump in the street and nobody is going to stop me? I can squeak and scuff my Vans on the front tire and get a nice ‘whoa that was cool kid’ reaction from the tourists passing through Sonoma?”
Sign me up. I’ll ride every day and twice on Sundays. And we did. We rode all over town. We had paper routes so our moms couldn’t hassle us about spending money on “bike stuff,” which is exactly what we did as soon as we got paid. We knew every part on our bikes, and we knew every part on our friends’ bikes. We knew who stole Jim’s skull valve caps last week and who just got a new Redline.
We also knew whose Redline was stolen and then found in the bottom of the swimming pool at Costi’s condo complex. Isaac did it. That kid was always stealing. Jeremy’s mom bought him a chrome GT, and the fact she was a cute mom didn’t hurt. That GT was sick.
