The dialog in my latest video is a bit quiet in spots, but I’m hoping the cinematography makes up for it (yeah, right). Quick synopsis: Ben and I set out to ride around the neighborhood at random. Within a minute he came up with our first destination, and shortly after we reached it I contributed the other. Ah, the sweet reward.
You can hear quite clearly the dumbest sentence I’ve uttered on camera. In case the first part isn’t leisurely enough, let the last 30 seconds or so take away some of your stress, courtesy of Pink Floyd.
Give it a moment to start playing after clicking the “play” button. (and don’t worry if you only want to read — there’s more of that, too.)
(If you have trouble watching it in the window above, just right-click (or Apple-click?) here to download it to your computer. Mac users, you may view the file using the free Flip4Mac WMV, as the Quicktime encoder in Adobe Premiere Elements is not very user friendly.)
***Video Spoilers Follow***
Sure, we had stopped to read a book together on the sidewalk, seen a burned house, and enjoyed donuts at the local fried dough purveyor, but as usual it was when I put away the camera that the best moment came.
Although Ben yelled, “Hey, don’t pass me,” at one point, I was glad when he finally suggested I set the pace.
Each time Benjamin completed a street crossing and made it up the slightly sloped sidewalk ramp (no small feat with those tippy training wheels), I turned and gave him a big, dorky thumbs up. If it means adding a little joy to his child’s life, every good father willingly sacrifices what little “cool” he possesses.
“Hey, Daddy, let me pass you,” Benjamin said. I worried that our steady progress since my taking the lead would devolve into the start-and-stop affair from earlier.
I pulled over to give him room. He rode past me and turned his head, flashed a smile, and gave me a big, dorky thumbs up. Then he slowed to let me in front and made the same request, repeating the move.
It was quite possibly the perfect bicycle ride.