As of today, I’ve had more than 10 bikes stolen in the past seven years. That’s 1 in Boston, 8 in Bloomington, 0 in Zurich, and now 2 in Hanover, NH. These aren’t >$1000 bikes, they’re almost all <$100. But it makes you wonder, how do you convince a reasonable person that you're not crazy when you say that you still aren't locking up? Is it something about wanting to give the world multiple chances to be better than it is? (Or some other rhetoric for self-administering that noble glow?) Is it rather some egoless, arcane, and strictly intellectual life practice about non-attachment? Or maybe an extended experiment for learning what kinds of places or vulnerable to the theft of crappy bikes (college town on party night: very high risk; downtown Boston: surprisingly low risk)? That can't be it; as interesting as that question is, I definitely don't care enough about it to have lost all the bikes I've lost. Maybe it all comes down to some brilliant, insightful way I have of calculating costs and benefits that makes this all very reasonable and acceptable and it's everyone else that's crazy. Or maybe I should just cut the crap and admit to being stubborn or lazy or asinine, and, like a fool, inexplicably smug about all of those foolish qualities. I try to be honest with myself about why I do things. And in this case I honestly don't know. I think there's something more to it than the most unflattering accounts allow. I need to know, because I need to know myself. So as much as I hate losing all of these bikes I've built and rode and loved and lost, I might have to keep on doing it until I've figured myself out.