Wednesday, September 13, 2023

The Old Coot get a comeuppance. Published 11/28/2021 (Binghamton, NY Press)

 The Old Coot Gets a Comeuppance

By Merlin Lessler

 This column was initially published in 2008. It’s being republished to honor the memory of Bill Schweizer, who died this year at age 99. He competed in 291 triathlons and duathlons starting when he was 62 holding 14 world titles and 26 national titles. He’s my Hero, though we did have a friendly bickering over the use of Spandex.

 I was in the Owego Dunkin Donuts the other morning. It was about six am. Nobody was around. Sunday morning was just coming up, a lazy, peaceful time. I was nestled in a chair by the window; the muddy Susquehanna was off to my right; the intersection of Front and Park was straight ahead. I counted the signs at the corner. There were 15 separate pieces of tin giving directions to three car routes, two bike routes and two local streets in view from where I sat. A lot of information to decipher while driving down Park Street, talking on a cell phone, balancing a cup of coffee between one’s knees and looking for route 17C. This is the same spot where the inspiration to write about spandex came to me a few months back. The need to ban it! It started when a spandex clad cyclist pulled up to the intersection and stopped for a red light. He was perched on a high-tech racing bike; an aerodynamic helmet that made him look like a space alien was on his head; a pair of exotic cycling shoes locked into his pedals. The light didn’t change! He, and his bike, weren’t heavy enough to trip the sensor in the road that would turn the traffic signal from red to green, in spite of his being at least fifty pounds overweight. He waited and waited. Finally, he got off his bike and walked it over to the pedestrian crossing button and pushed it. It gave me the chance to examine his spandex profile in depth, the proverbial two pounds of bologna in a one-pound sack. It fueled my desire to ban the stuff, at least for “athletes” of his stature.

 As often happens when I shoot my mouth off in print, I irk a few people. Ok, a lot of people. This time it moved a reader to challenge my spandex stance with a poem. A friendly neighbor who lives a few doors up the street from me penned it. He thought he could do it anonymously but as is always the case when I say I won’t mention the subject’s name, I do.

 Here is the spandex rebuttal poem, written by Bill Schweizer.

 I wonder what bothers the Old Coot                                           I’ve finally run out of “oots”

On spandex he should have stayed mute                                    To disparage the column by Coots

Was this a confession                                                               I’ll give it a rest

To hide an obsession                                                                And wish him the best

Or just a try to be cute                                                               In spite of our spandex disputes

           

Referring again to Old Coot                                                                             

Whose column one must refute                                     

Why can’t he find                                                        

A spandex behind                                                        

Is really a nice attribute                                                

 

The subject of spandex is not mute                               

In spite of complaints by Old Coot                               

He should not pretend                                                  

All’s well in the end

If spandex was given the boot                                        

 

As the biker went by really cruising

His spandex controlling the bruising

He yelled at Old Coot

Your column’s a hoot

But I don’t find it very amusing

 

This message I give to Old Coot

At least try a spandex suit

You’ll ride with abandon

On your 10-speed tandem

Without a suffering glute

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