Looking Out My Backdoor: Tricycle, Tricycle, Tricycle!

I want to ride my tri-cy-cle. I want to ride my trike!

Queen, I shall sing you all day.

Do you remember your first wheels? Mine was a tricycle, all metal, sparkly red. I remember the size, the shape, the feel of leaning over the chrome handlebars, skinny legs pushing the rubber-clad pedals with all my might, wind in my face, tooling down the lane between the house and the barn.

My friend Janet bought an electric tricycle and she is excited. Her excitement is infectious. I caught a case of trike fever.

I have not had an automobile since moving to Mexico. Public transportation is so good here, e...