The Old Coot gets a comeuppance

A few weeks ago I explained why I ride a bicycle without a helmet, to complement a previous article where I explained why I ride facing traffic. I bike at the same speed that many joggers run at, eight miles per hour. They don’t wear helmets; why should I?

I added this “Ps.” at the end of the article: To my 92 and a half year-old, Iron Man friend, Bill Schweizer – Yes, I wrote about Spandex yet again, but notice I did not chastise those who wear it. (It was implied but not stated.) If you feel compelled to submit a poem to the editor in protest, you’ll have to confine your rhyme to my bare head.

Here is Bill’s response: (You need to understand that the word love, in line five, is pure sarcasm. Bill is well aware of my dislike of Spandex).

There is this guy I much admire,
who has a problem with his attire

Dressing down is his big thing,
of its features he does sing

His love of spandex is well known,
trying a pair might change his tone

Most of the time his rants are harmless,
but when it comes to helmets, call it scandalous
Riding without, and wrong way to boot,
is sure to result in a short lived coot

So far, he’s been a lucky fellow
he has escaped a head of Jell-O

If the wind in his hair must blow,
Put the top down on his car and go
Show some wisdom on his ride,
protecting head should be the guide
So my friend, my fondest hope,
wear a helmet, don’t be a dope
(Written by a guy with three broken helmets but with the ability to walk out of the emergency room in every case.) Bill