Dear generic 42 road bars:

I'm leaving you. I'm sorry.... but I'm just ... bored. Its not really your fault. You've always been a good reliable partner -- if in your ordinary, pedestrian sort of way. Complaining creakily on occasion, but very low maintenance and always there when I want you. The thing is, I've moved on -- I want the sort of relationship that my friends have. The ones whose eyes greedily devour the senusous curves and soft lustre of their partners .... the ones who can't keep their hands off of them. I wish you were more exciting and lovely like Cinelli or Nitto. But you are what you are....despite how much you might get dressed up. I'm going back to my old but still beautiful Cinelli's that are upstairs in the attic. Don't hate me because I am weak.

Besides; you're too small for me.