If you're an aging old-school skater like myself, you may find various body parts (like knees) don't always function the way they used to. Suddenly, dropping off a small ledge renders one's knees useless for the rest of the day. Or falling on your ass evokes a desire to sit a lot longer than you previously had to.
Don't worry. You're not alone. I find this happening more and more as time progresses. Naturally, I don't give up and find a sudden passion for watching televised football. I simply adjust my lifestyle to these infrequent abnormalities. Sometimes this involves taking interest in sports that are slightly "less than sk8".
After all, its difficult to be hardcore all the time. I'm certainly not advocating a soft stance, but you have to achieve balance in your life. IE- don't find God without regard for devil worship; don't scoff at big 68mm wheels before trying them out; its not about Goofy -vs- Regular, ride both - its all about switch.
I have no problem coming home from a day of skating and relaxing in the backyard with my wife, a good book and a bottle of chardonnay. Not wanting our neighbors to mistake this scene for some wholesome literary snooze, we also drag out the boom-box and pump a little Green Day through our quaint little hood (aka: "neighborhood" to those well-to-do Volvo-driving types). As the wine goes to my head and the music livens my spirits, I often look around the yard and wonder, "What else?"
Basking in the cool post-afternoon breeze my mind wanders to the scenes from "Heathers" in which the pretty villains decide the fate of their enemies over a game of croquet. Croquet is definitely a lame sport, if a sport at all, but the larger picture makes me wonder what plans I could concoct during a relaxing (wine-induced) lawn game. Perhaps the outline of a new day-trip skate destination or a better way to use the funbox at the skate park. Who knows. So, I dive into the imbecilic intricacies of lawn sports hoping to further my inner-sk8.
We find Metallica best accompanies a festive game of croquet and alerts neighbors that lawn sports are not just for pussies. Flaming tiki torches also pose the imminent threat of arson should anyone smirk at our drunken gaming.
My penchant for lawn sports again runs rampant.
Spending a few dollars at the local "Dollar Store" sends me on my way with a delightful set of lawn darts. Never missing a beat, I peruse the local liquor store for the perfect bottle of chardonnay to accompany a rousing game of Lawn Darts. I select a bottle of Toasted Head and head home.
My craving of outdoor yard-play mystifies my wife who soon becomes engaged in tossing plastic darts at small delineated goals. As I ponder the correct transitional arc for my next ramp, I briefly wonder why fire or squirrel-skewering has never been entered into this game.
After resting your old school aches and pains with a relaxing alternative sport and a spot of alcohol, GET OUT THERE AND SKATE!
Hey: If you are seeing this message, your browser is crappy (aka: old). You should upgrade it to one which follows web standards. This site is designed for a graphical browser which supports W3C recommendations. The content of this site is accessible to you, but you will not get it's full visual effect as it was intended to be displayed. Check out our upgrade page and download the latest version of your preferred browser.