Super Bike Haskell Wexler

I got a new bike over the Thanksgiving holiday. It was left for me in the basement of our apartment building by an old tenant who told the landlord that he didn't want it any more. It is a powder blue Schwinn with the old-style stick gear shifts near the handle bar stem. I am not sure how many speeds it has, but I think it must have ten or so. It has skinny road wheels and straight across mountain bike handles. My wife named it Haskell Wexler after the famous cinematographer and I started calling it Super Bike soon after since it is so much faster than my old bike. I refer to it now as Super Bike Haskell Wexler.
I still have my old bike. Its a Schwinn too. Jack named it Rock Hudson. Kevin bought it for my wife on her birthday a few years ago. He had it custom built at a bike shop in Fort Green. The bike shop has a pile of old frames and forks and wheels and seats in the back and Kevin picked out the heaviest, midget-looking parts he could find. My wife rode it for maybe a week and pronounced it too heavy. The thing must have at least 60 pounds. I was only too happy to take it on as at that point, my old bike "The Green Dragon," had been stolen from in front of the 'L' stop on Bedford. Frank, the nice crazy guy who later died of liver or kidney failure, told me he saw the bike being stolen and grabbed the cops but the cops told him to mind his own business. My wife has some of the worst bike luck of anyone I know. I can't be too critical since New York is a nightmare for bicycles what with the near epidemic flat tire situation and thieves that will steal bikes just to steal them. But her bikes, as short the shelf life they may have had, have been superstars. Her first bike in New York, Gonda, was purchased in the liquor shop around the corner from my place. A beautiful little Schwinn, it was the shop owner's grandfather's bike. My wife left it unlocked in the foyer of a friend's apartment building for ten minutes and it was gone. The second bike. Francoise Hardy, a gorgeous little white number, was also stolen near the Bedford 'L' stop in broad daylight. Her third, Kevin Curran, lasted the longest but soon became so run down that when I took it into the Brazilian bike doctor he refused to repair it. Then the front tire was stolen. We kept the rusted remains of Kevin Curran in our garden for a couple of years until the construction workers threw it out this week. My wife's current bike, Tommy, is wasting away in front of our place. It is possibly the worst bike I have ever ridden. The three speeds do not work, leaving it permanently in the hardest-to-pedal speed and the seat cannot be tightened up or down and swings freely as one rides it. It has a neat little stick and twine woven basket that our dog likes to sit in so we keep it around.
It is nice to have a fast bike in the winter months. Riding a really slow bike like Rock Hudson through the rain is a bummer. Super Bike Haskell Wexler will do a great job of getting me over the bridge to the office in record time even in the biting cold.