My First Ride

I'll never forget one particular birthday gift back in the day: a classic Hippity Hop... It was the greatest gift ever.  If memory serves me right, I was 15-years-old... Or was it 16?  From the moment Hippity Hop and I met, we became inseparable.  (Is it any wonder I didn't start dating 'til later in life?)  We were the best of friends, so I figured why go out when I had a big round ball to keep me company...  "BFF!" Yup, Hippity Hop was the ideal companion for me; he never talked back, I didn't have to feed him anything other than air... "How many pounds per square inch would you like, buddy?"  Picture this: Hippity Hop and I  bouncing around the neighborhood, without a worry in the world (truly a Rockwell moment). "Hop, Sammy, Hop!"  Life was truly wonderful in those days.  Mama would wave from the window as I hopped by, full of pride.  "That's my baby!"  Good ol' Hippity Hop, he's the one who encouraged me to consider bronco riding as a living (a urologist friend of the family quickly discouraged that notion).  Then one day it finally happened: I discovered girls.  Not wanting to offend Hippity Hop, I compromised.  I showed up at my date's doorstep with Hippity Hop in tow.  "What in the world is that?!" the girl screeched... Believe it or not, she got offended when I introduced Hippity Hop to her.  "Hop on," I said invitingly.  Don't ask me why but the girl refused to ride on Hippity Hop with me.  What did she expect -- a car?!  Years later, I got the last laugh when I rode by her house -- all Mr. Cool -- on my way to the prom... on my sleek mini  moped.  Oh yeah...