Yeah, so ... I need to buy a bike helmet, and I’m not exactly a helmet guy. I mean, I’m anti-brain injury and all that – I’m totally pro-brain. But man, helmets are not for me. Some dudes look good in a helmet; they can totally pull it off. Some guys can strap a hunk of molded plastic and shock-resistant foam to their noggins and actually look better. Not me. If you watched me put a bike helmet onto my head, you’d gasp as I transformed from a ruggedly dashing, awesomely awesome man into Commander Dork Pants, First Class. You’d think some sort of evil voodoo was a-goin’ on.

I’ve shopped around for cool-looking helmets featuring sweet designs, anything that might wrench your attention away from the geekly shape of my helmeted head. Blistering flame decals? No good. Skull and crossbones graphics? No help. My Little Pony logos? Almost.

I found all of these helmets in Target’s kids’ biking section, so none of them fit me anyway. Unfortunately, most of the adult helmets were simply grey or dark blue. And many of them had blinking lights and tiny rearview mirrors attached. No thank you very much.

Right now, you’re probably shaking your head and talking (out loud) to the magazine in your hands, saying, “But Mike! You’d look good with anything on your head! Your handsome good looks and snazzy sense of style could make anything, even a pageboy haircut look great.”

While I appreciate your affection, I must ask you to quiet down. You sound like an idiot. And while the depth of my expertise in personal grooming is indeed quite deep, headwear is my one weakness. The Kryptonite to my Superman. The yellow to my Green Lantern. The chocolate to my dog. The raging pimple to my senior class prom attendee.

It’s just genetics – Mike plus helmet equals nerd. Heck, I’m not even a baseball cap guy. It’s not for lack of trying. I’ve purchased a variety of hats, always thinking this could be the one, but those caps usually end up in a box in the attic, destined for a garage sale. It must be the shape of my head or something. I guess The Universe just wants to see my magnificent hair, and who am I to argue with that?

    Oh wait, did I even mention why I need to buy a bike helmet? Because I bought a bike! After years of whining about how I should get one, I finally ... you know ... got one. It’s not the highest tech of bikes, just a basic commuter, but I love it. I ride it to and from work most days, flying down the bike trail, screaming ZOOM! at a gleefully high pitch only dogs and superheroes can hear.

My wife and I actually bought bikes that match. I know that’s pretty dorky, but they don’t look identical so I think we’re safe. We weren’t looking for matching bikes; we just liked what we saw. Many married couples go so far as to buy matching track suits to wear while biking. That’s totally insane, of course, and symbolizes much of what’s wrong with America and the world in general. Seriously, why would you buy matching his ‘n hers track suits when you can make them? My wife can sew and I’m somewhat of an amateur track suit designer, so you can expect to see a two-person fashion show wheeling around town sometime soon. Try not to be jealous. (We’re OK with pictures.)

But alas, helmets must be added to the ensemble. I’ve always known that helmets are great for stopping your head from bashing into hard stuff, but I’ve got another reason to wear one – stopping my kids' heads from bashing into hard stuff.  Apparently, the one thing that trumps my inability to look awesome in a helmet is my children.

See, I need my kids to wear helmets while they bike so their little brains stay safe, and as that rascal Carl Jung says, “Children are educated by what the grown-up is and not by his talk.”

So a helmet I must have. If any of you know of some headgear that might somehow keep my dork levels to a minimum (and keep my hairstyle to a maximum), e-mail a weblink to mike@volumeone.org. If I buy it, I promise to post a picture of myself wearing it on the internet.

And if I still look like a geek, it’ll be all your fault.