Here's Your Sign

I don't believe in accidents or luck.  It would take too long to explain it now, but I promise I will sometime.  If you accept my premise, then our lives are full of signs or consequences.

I traveled to the neighborhood market to buy some ice this morning; on my bike as I usually do.  It's a couple of blocks away and it's a nice day so far.  My bike, you have to understand, is over 35 years old; a great over-the-internet trade deal with a gentleman in Colorado.  The paint is fading and scratched, there is a rack on back and a basket in front.  Other than the wonderful leather Brooks saddle, it can stay in the rain and not be too affected.  A great town bike that my children like to make fun of, but each will secretly ride.

After arriving at the market and paying for the ice, the owner walked outside with me to unlock the ice storage chest.  We talked as we usually do about various things and I took the ice from the chest and set them on the ground in preparing to put them in the basket.  She looked at me and exclaimed, "You're doing this on a bike?"

I answered something to the effect of, "Yes."

She then got a big smile on her face and said the bike reminded her of the bike her father rode in their native Indian village, and the happy memories of him cycling through the village.

Which is my sign:  I have more in common with an older man riding his bike?  Or am I prepared to survive in a developing culture?