Essay/Term paper: Experience
Essay, term paper, research paper: Critical Essays
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																																										Sangho Kang
                       																															Feb 4 ,97
																																												La 350
					       
                       My first time experiencing bicycle
					After a very meaningful conversation with my dad about the 
old days, we came up with an object that we both remember 
cleary. It was my very first biclycle. My mind told me that I 
got it when I was only eight but my mom insisted that I was 
seven when I got it.  Either of us had a proof, and so we 
desided that when I got it was not important.  
					My dad put together all the small pieces of the bicycle.  
From a butiful material that he called, "Your own car."  Of 
course I knew that he had some magical ability, but I didn't 
think he could make such an awsome object.  He added the seat 
and the pedals.  Last so that I would not have any problems.  
					My dad recalled that the bicycle was the smallest he could 
find.  I remember how gigantic it was.  I was so afraid of it 
and there was no way that I was going to control that monster-
sized material.  The bicycle remained in my backyard as a 
decoration for a month because I refused to ride it.  Honestly, 
I was scared to try it.  
					After a month, my dad gave me a lecture to teach me what 
being a man was all about.  I was finally determined to try it.  
My dad was proud of me and I felt very manly.  He and I went to 
the park to see what we could do there.  
					The park was empty when we arrived.  I had no dought that 
my dad told everybody not to be there because we had to use it.  
I felt badly for other people, but I was proud to have such an 
onnipotent person as my dad.    
					We found a smooth and a often space.  My dad was holding 
the rear of the seat to make sure I didn't fell.  He assured me 
that I was not going to fall because he would be running right 
behind, holding the bicycle.  He reassured me by saying that it 
was the word of a man and I could trust it.
					I started to pedal and the bicycle moved.  Once it started 
to move, I felt pedaling was much easier than expected.  I asked 
my dad if it would be as easy to ride a bicycle without him 
holding on it.  He did not answer me because he couldn't run, 
hold the bybicle, and talk at the same time.  I told him we 
could stop if he was tired.  Again, he did not reply.  I turned 
to see if he was feeling O.K.  I saw him, except he wasn't where 
I expected him to be.  He was about fifty yards away from where 
I was.  Then I lost control and fell.  I cried but no one looked 
at me because...well...no one was there.
					He ran over and said he forgot that he wasn't supposed to 
let me ride the monster by myself.  After I was done crying, he 
told me there was nothing more he could teach me.  He said that 
if I could ride it the way I rode it for that fifty yards, I had 
no problems.
					I practiced for a few more hours and I was pretty good.  My 
dad told me I was the fastest learner that he had even seen.  I 
told him that he was thw best teacher that I'd even met.  We 
came home hand in hand as if we were best cronies.
 
 
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