Lords of DC-Town

Skateboarding

I picked it up when I was about 12 years old. My best friend at the time was a kid by the name of Chris Menges. He influenced me to pick up the thing on wheels and within days I was obsessed. We would watch each other's tricks and look for all the best places to skate in the city. We'd spend hours walking, taking the bus, the subway, looking for the perfect marble rails, pools, ramps...whatever we could use to jump off of or grind our axles on. Back in the 80's skateboarding was still socially unacceptable, and we played the roles of Jay Adams and Stacy Peralta in Lords of Dogtown, running away from the police and the disapproval of our parents.

I can remember these summer days skating around the city with my best friend as the happiest moments in my life. There was an independence that came with being able to roam freely in the city on our boards. Life was about coming up with the next trick, impressing the older guys with how crazy we were with our bodies or getting new parts and accessories for our boards. If we had any money, it was for bus fare or maybe to buy a 99 cent 2 liter that would last the whole afternoon. That 2 liter by the way, was always some generic neon colored sugar water with bubbles, and it tasted unbelievable for less than a buck. We were so physically active, that any junk food we ate (and we ate alot of it when out of the house - strict parents) probably metabolized before it had a chance to do any harm.

From the age of about 12 to 14, skating and hanging out with my friend Chris was my life, and I realize now that those years have come to define an important part of who I am today. A good deal of my behavior and thoughts are the grown up version of that 13 year old kid. This is a kid who didn't know anything about what he wanted to be when he grew up, let alone knew what he wanted as a 13 year old. School? I did well in, but really didn't care much about. Other activities? I was never really encouraged or pushed by my parents. Actually most things that parents are expected to be there for, like homework, report cards, plays, after school activities...etc, mine were busy working.

So this skateboarding thing was something. It gave a wandering, anxious, energetic and nervous boy something to get excited about and aspire to some level of success. Success in that day may have often been measured by who could jump the most steps without hurting themselves, but it was success nonetheless. And that was all I had, after what seemed like 13 years of really not knowing anything about what I wanted. An aptitude was there, and like anyone who finds that they're naturally good at something, I would wake up excited about it.

I shouldn't forget that in the midst of discovering my "talent" I had a friend in Chris. Actually, he was my very first, true friend - one in which both people in the relationship could never ever really piss each other off, no matter how ignorant and dumb a 13 year old's actions may be. Our bond was unconditional through everything. My parents weren't the fondest of Chris and his behaviors, and therefore weren't fond of his parents' job as caretakers. Looking back on some of the things they were critical of him for, I can't say I understand why I never noticed Chris' parents to be the more rightfully judgmental. I had always wanted the love and care that I saw in his home.

Chris turned me on to skating, and for that I was always grateful to him. We were rascals, not miscreants or delinquents. The extent of our trouble-making was minor trespassing and throwing water balloons at cars. Skating was looked down upon back then, and so it was unfortunate that we were probably regarded as punks. And like I said before, I carry some of that with me to this day. There's still a rebellious streak, albeit a non-harmful clown-around, adult version of that 13 year old.

More importantly, there's the loyal and loving, never-leave-you-we'll-go-down-together, partner in crime part of me that's still here. I've found that in certain situations as an adult, I've stuck with someone or remained loyal no matter what the consequence. I'm very loyal to those that I feel have given me something priceless as Chris had back then. I pride myself on maintaining that loyalty and love; a camaraderie that I've rarely experienced the way I did as a kid with Chris. I'll treasure that and keep it close to me, because of what it meant for me back then.

So skating - yeah, it used to be one of my favorite things. I don't do it anymore, and I don't have a desire to. But whatever part of my spirit that those childhood experiences opened are still with me. There's a good reason why I have the job I have, why my hobbies are what they are. For me, that kid is still there, searching for something. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't for my friend Chris, and those moments we shared as kids, but you can't bring back the past or live the life of a 13 year old when you're 28. But part of who I am today pays homage to the process that led a boy to slowly uncover a spark of the type of person he wanted to be. It pays homage to Chris, to ollies and rail-slides, hot summer afternoons at Liberty Plaza, the loyalty between 13 year old boys, and true friendship. I think any man at any age can understand what I mean, and looks back in his past for those moments of definition with satisfaction and gratitude.

Skateboards and All Things Gummi

I guess you've looked at the title and wondered, "Why skateboards and gummi bears?" I guess I in thinking of a title, I thought of two favorite things in my life and just jotted them down. I think that anyone who knew me when I was young will understand skateboards. I think that anyone who knows me now can understand the gummi bears. For those who've known me all 28 years of my life, putting the two together might make even more sense. Yes, these are two of some of my favorite things, but the reason I picked these two is because I feel they represent two periods in my life: my childhood and my recent adult life. I'll try to explain how I think the two might represent pieces of who I am, and their relative importance to me, now and then.