Low Rider

In the last ten years, pretty much since my last big Yank-Out-The-Jams (AKA Vestibular Schwannomas) surgery, I've lost height. Before that cutterage I was almost, almost 5'6." Just a quarter inch shy. I'd boost myself farther up by wearing clogs or platforms. My goal was to top 5'10." Hell's, we all gotta have goals in life, eh?

How tall am I now? That question is more aptly phrased as "how short are you now, Donna?" An ignominious 5'4." Worse yet, my balance is so poor that I can only wear the lowest, the most horizontal of flats. It's disheartening, I tells ya!

Adding to my pint-sized stature is this—my gorgeous recumbent trike just skims the earth. I'm, at most, a few inches above the road. Yeah, I feel every last bump, pothole (and they are myriad after this past winter) and stray pebble. I think, mebbe, I want to invest in some giant wheels, like this but for all three tires.

Then there's Bix, my trusty smart car, also a low rider, with it's notoriously rough drive quality. Yep, paint stripes at intersections—I can feel em.

I need to figure out how to smooth out my wheeling.  My personal, physical elevation though—nothing can be done about that. I AM a human low rider. Maybe I just need to go all zen and accepting and keep this playing on my internal jukebox.

All my friends know the low rider
The low rider is a little higher

Low rider drives a little slower
Low rider is a real goer

Low rider knows every street, yeah
Low rider is the one to meet, yeah

Low rider don't use no gas now
Low rider don't drive too fast

Take a little trip, take a little trip
Take a little trip and see
Take a little trip, take a little trip
Take a little trip with me
Lowrider—War