Attachment is a privilege. Just as suffering is a privilege. When we realize that loss, sadness, even death are a gift, we begin to live well. (Buddhism is often misunderstood as being about escaping suffering through attempting not to get attached to things. But true understanding is realizing that non-attachment is also about not attaching ourselves to NOT suffering. At the same time.) So between now and when I die I know that what’s really important is what I decide to attach myself to. Attachment, like love, is a conscious choice. Suffering, like happiness, is transformative. Yes, I’m biased because I have a vested interest in saying that my bicycles are worth falling in love with. After all, I founded this company. And yet I really do love my bicycles! I think they’re the most beautiful, elegant, fastest — the most wonderful bicycles in the world. You may disagree, but on the other hand, you have to admit that you’re more likely to get a better bike when you buy it from someone like me, rather than the marketing department of a giant corporation. If I see you riding your beloved $75 Schwinn, I love you too. But if you continue insist that I ride a crap bike like you, and on a deeper level that saving and investing in something beautiful is a waste of money, well — go to hell. Or more precisely, you already have. A well-known Polish poet once wrote, after years in a Soviet prison camp: “The decision to become a dissident wasn’t difficult. It was just a matter of having good taste.” This guy spent a decade in prison and liberated his country because Communism was tacky. This is the secret gift that good art and craftsmanship brings to the world. That’s why fascism hates good art. Is there anything more tacky than war, racism, genocide? I insist on falling in love with the things I make and the things I own, in identifying with them, and suffering when I lose them. Just as I insist on falling in love with my good friends and family, and suffering when I lose them, too.