The Chicken or the Egg

Dateline: 06/19/00

It's a scary world out there. With all the hostility against skaters and their own resulting retribution against an uncompromising oppressive authority, it's no wonder tensions run high on the street. Why, we ask, do skateboarders destroy property? Is it simply because the irresistible gleam of a perfectly chiseled curb beckons to be slid or could it be something else? Say, some exasperating provocateur howls madly at said skater and christens him menace thereby instigating a deliberate revenge. Perhaps we'll never know.

Let us begin then with that which we do know. I am but one earthly bound soul and as such can not reasonably be expected to probe the depths of another human mind so I will delve therefore into my own. I'm a sensible grownup. Given that I have gained some education, some maturity and a little life experience I ask myself a question. As a property owner, can I think of a better way to assuage this disheartening situation than to screech at the top of my lungs and impose an unbearable tyrannical authority against these urban athletes?

The answer is, yes, I believe I can. Given that I am the adult I'm relatively certain there's a compromise in there somewhere. Given that I have spent as much as double the time on the planet as any of these young skateboarders I'm confident that I can negotiate it. At the very least I can set an example.

Why then, do other educated, reasonable adults fail to see the situation as I see it? What is the difference between thee and me, my stagnant fellow mortal?

The difference is I am a skater. The problem is, you haven't stood a board in years. You've spent too much time in corporate board meetings, twiddling your thumbs and silly aerobics classes waggling your rears and doing ridiculous dances that you have forgotten it is even among your capabilities. The dilemma is that someone convinced you're old and you believed it. And every time you dare to reflect now some exuberant kid comes along and augments the predicament.

The solution is obvious. You should try it. Get on a board. Just jump on and give it a spin. A little curb grind-age? It's fun. You'll like yourself better tomorrow. And when your own kid sees your coming they'll be proud to show you off to their friends. They'll say "Hey, that's my mom!" or "Look, there goes my dad!" instead of ducking out of view, or rolling their eyes while muttering under their breaths, "Look out for the crusty old geezer."

On the other hand, maybe they'll just say, "Wow, that crusty old geezer can skate." But you'll be none the worse for wear and you will have gained a new respect for the sport. While it is almost certain that you'll never pop a 900 off an eleven foot vert, you will at least know the joy of a simple down hill jaunt that carries you through a gentle wind while you admire from afar the coordination, elegance and devotion with which each fresh, young skater takes to the sport and inevitably pushes it to new limits.

There is call for you, kinder, gentler skater to get off the backs of these athletes. Answer it. Breech the gap. Go out and seize the day.