Do you remember the first time you rode your two-wheeler down the block and realized at some frontal lobe molecular level that you were suddenly free from your parents’ control? The wind blew on your face, the plastic streamers on your handlebars went from limp to straight back, you could turn right or left or just snake lazy curvy arcs up the sidewalk past the vacant lot your sister told you was haunted?

Oh, God, and then you learned how to do it all without hands!

Later you realized that you were not really free, but the magical feelings from that first time never quite left you and you spent the rest of your life chasing that first buzz with bigger bikes, playing cards in the spokes, a Whizzer, a BMW, a Harley Sportster-Road-King-Custom-whatever. The lazy snake curves were taken at 75-85-95-105 mph in the car pool lane and they almost-but-not-quite matched that first escape from parents, gravity, and rules.

It’s been 60-plus years since that first break from parent/earth gravity on the two-wheeler, but my body recalls all the historical delights when I lean into the bars of my Segway and carve big easy curves up my street, across the bike lanes, sidewalks, lawns and crosswalks, almost silently, just-almost-nearly out of control. 

Who’s got it better than me, Victor Miller, Alameda resident, Segway rider, polo goalkeeper, and unrepentant 5 year old?