The Triumphant Return of the City Elite

At one point in my first tour of duty as a father, I owned 6 or 7 strollers.  Now, mind you, I only paid for one of the strollers.  The rest were gifts or loaners.  As anyone who has read this blog regularly can attest, my favorite stroller was "the City Elite," made by Baby Jogger.  It's not a performance or racing stroller (I have one of those, too, also made by Baby Jogger).  Rather, it's a 3-wheeled, all terrain, around town stroller.  Lots of pockets, some hidden and some not.  Lots of sleeves and compartments.  And - very important - it reclines all the way back which allows one to transport an infant who can't hold his or her head up yet.

Really, it's a hipster stroller - in my view anyway.  And I, of course, am a hipster dad, albeit an older one.

J.P. and I put some serious mileage (probably more than 200 miles in my estimation) on the City Elite, mostly in the neighborhood.  We routinely strolled to Bongo Java (the center of my universe), the 12South Tap Room, Kim (Green) and Hal's (Humphreys) house, Sevier Park and locations in between.  It's funny, but my memories of the first 2 or 2 1/2 years of J.P.'s life seem to melt into one memory of me pushing him in the City Elite, walking somewhere in the neighborhood.

I'm a nostalgic sort (big surprise there, I know), so it was quite difficult for me when J.P. got too big to ride comfortably in the City Elite.  It just became easier - or, perhaps, more convenient - for me to drive with him to Bongo Java or Belmont University.  It was almost like a "Puff the Magic Dragon Experience" - you remember, Jackie Paper grew up and stopped coming to see Puff.  Well, J.P. grew up and at Jude's urging, the City Elite ended up in the pseudo-garage behind our house, where it gathered dust, pollen and mildew and silently stared at me the last couple of years every time I took the trash out.  I thought about giving it away but I just couldn't pull the trigger.

Then, along comes Joseph Dylan Newman.

One of the first things I thought about, after Jude told me she was pregnant and we found out it we were having a boy, is that the City Elite would ride again.  I've not seen "Toy Story" (the movie), but I suspect  the City Elite felt like the old, seldom used toys did in the move, just sitting out there in the garage in cold and hot weather, waiting for someone to use it, for someone to love it again.  So it was with more than a little anticipation that I rolled it our of the garage the first part of this week, just to get a good look at it and to see what kind of shape it was in.

Much to my dismay, the City Elite was covered - and I mean covered - in dust, bird shit and, really, just a fine layer of dirt.  The tires were flat and there were small packs of diapers, wipes, etc. in the pockets and sleeves of the stroller - leftover relics from a bygone era.  I really didn't know if it could be salvaged.  For a minute, I thought about ordering a new one.  First, though, I decided to at least make an effort to clean it up.

I hosed the City Elite down 2 or 3 times, then left it out in the front yard to dry.  When J.P. got home from school, he and his grandparents (Jim and Jane White) went to work on it.  They filled a bucket with water and soap, lovingly washed and cleaned it, then laughed as J.P. got after it with the hose.  When I got home, my spirits soared a bit when I saw it sitting in the front yard, gleaming.  I love that damn stroller and what it represents - time spend walking with my son.  Or, soon, time spent walking with my sons.

Today I took the City Elite for a ride in my truck to the gas station, where I put some air in the tires.  If the tires are still full of air tomorrow, we'll be ready to roll.  I think I'll take Joey out for a stroll this weekend, proudly.

   

My pit crew of one, working on the City Elite, getting it prepared for its second tour of duty.