Had taken my two bikes in for tuneups last weekend and drove over to pick them up this afternoon.

My original plan had been to wait until Saturday to walk over and ride one home and then walk back and ride home again. But it looks like the streets will be sloppy by then. And I don't really want to coat my brand new chains with winter road grime two seconds after leaving the shop.

My bikes, which are identical except for the horns, were not expensive when I bought them in 2008. I"m quite sure that what I have paid for tuneups over the years eclipses what I shelled out to purchase them.

But I think most of us have places we feel good about supporting. That's certainly how I feel about my bike shop. They have treated me well. And I enjoy talking with the young guys who work there.

The first employee I ever met there, back in the summer of '08, was Joe Perrizo. And he was at the cash register this afternoon as I paid for the tuneups.

I had asked how come they listen to an oldies station in the shop. (They like the songs.) And I was in the middle of telling him a fascinating story about the Monkees tune being played at the moment when we heard an urgent hissing.

I had no idea what was happening. But Joe figured it out.

One of the expensive racing bikes up on a wall to my left had suddenly lost the air in a tire. And it wasn't even being ridden.

Prima donna.

Neither of my no-nonsense bikes would ever pull a stunt like that.

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