The serene scene at Millennium Park was broken by the screams of a baby. I guess the baby didn't want to go back into the van.
A woman was nearby, lying down on a blanket, laughing to someone on the other end of the phone.
A little girl was trying to learn to ride a bike, despite the help of her father. Well, I'm not sure that she was actually trying to learn. Everytime she tried to steer, the bike started going off the path. I think her father needed to give her a lesson on steering first. The idea, as I understand it, is to keep the bike going in a straight line. She didn't seem to care much about steering, or keeping her balance either, for that matter. Her father kept holding her up all the time, and didn't let her go.
It reminded me of when I learned how to ride a two wheeler. At first I had a bike with training wheels. You know they are uneven on purpose, don't you? That's so the rider can practice trying to ride on two wheels, and if you start to fall, one of the raining wheels will catch you.
This was never explained to me. That's why you could see me riding down the street, tilted to one side or another.
One day my best friend Paul Tombeno, got a wrench out of my cellar and took off my training wheels.
He got me on my bike, ran along side, and then just let go.
I was riding.
That's how I learned.
Paul Tombeno should head on over to Millenium Park and teach that little girl to ride.
On second thought, maybe he shouldn't. She'd just ride right into the bushes.