TheKeenTaco

My bike is a vintage 1973 Raleigh handed down to me by my father.  The steel frame I use to bike those forty miles to and from class every day is the same one he used on his campus, way back in the Bronze Age.  Sure, I've replaced the brakes, the shifters, the chain, the pedals, the wheels, and about half the rider, but the core of the thing is unchanged. It's only natural, then, that I was replacing the brake cable when I discovered them.  I'd been inserting a Dremel bit to cut some sheathe when I thought to wear eye protection, and what should I find when rifling through the mess called my father's garage but a pair of glasses that could h