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A Christmas Story.


middleageman

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I'm about to unfold, a story from my teenage years, about a Christmas morning.

But first, let me paint you the picture.

When I was thirteen years old, the year was 1982.

A new bike had arrived on our shores from America. This bike was every lads dream machine.

They called it the Bicycle Motocross - the 'BMX'!

(They were probably in this country earlier, but not in our town!).

For those who weren't there, at that time, this bike seemed like it had arrived from another planet!

One by one, their numbers grew. Some rich lad from school. Then a mate's mate had one.

Christmas loomed....and passed. It seemed that Santa had bought practically everyone I knew a brand new BMX!

Except me.

It was a long year. A year of trying to perform jumps and stunts on second hand 'racing bikes', bought from the

small ads of the local newsagents window by my Dad. They broke, a lot.

I managed to persuade him to buy me a set of 'cowhorn handlebars'

for my birthday so I could fit in a little more. I didn't.

Then my Dad suddenly brought home one day, a second hand Raleigh Grifter!

Now, for the uninitiated, this was a 'must have' bike from the late seventies.

It was almost a BMX, in looks at most, but weighed the same as a baby Hippo.

Nevermind, I was happy!

Because this bike was as strong as, well, a baby Hippo, it meant I could perform jumps and stunts as well as

my mates. This bike took no end of punishment, scratches, dents and dirt, until that fateful day, when I obliterated my rear wheel.

My Dad wasn't annoyed this time? When I asked if it could be fixed, he just replied with a knowing wink and said "We'll see".

'Of course', I thought, 'Christmas is only three weeks away!'. I had pointed out, in my Mums catalogue, the BMX I desired several times that year.

December the 25th. Christmas morning.

After enthusiastically opening my stocking fillers, I had a gut feeling. I knew something greater awaited.

I was beckoned to the front room. Next to the Christmas tree stood a large present wrapped head to toe in gift paper.

A bike shaped present!

"Merry Christmas Son!". My parents words echoed around my elated mind.

In a frenzy, I tore wrapping paper from seat, wrapping paper from handlebar, wrapping paper from wheel..........

....and there.....stood before me......in all it's glory....!!!

....was my Raleigh Grifter.....cleaned and polished....with a new BACK WHEEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Edited by middleageman
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