It's all in my mind, and it began the first time I rode a bike.

When I'm riding a modern bike, and I look down, my brain expects to see a steel top tube that will
hurt my jewels if I fall on it.

That defines my brain's approach to identifying, recognizing, and analyzing the "normalcy" of any bike I'm on, compared to the imprint. It's about the threat, not the bike.

If my brain does not "see" a steel top tube, it doesn't consider the bike a threat to my reproductive system or general amiable feeling. No threat, no bike.

As such, it removes the image from all the past possible choices of "bike," moving the image to the realm of "Fisher-Price."

At that point, it doesn't matter how fast, sleek, pretty, aero, or light it is, I can't get the implication out of my head.

So, I blame it on reptilian survival instincts.

I knew it wasn't my fault.