Coasting
“The older I get, the more I appreciate my childhood.”
-Greg Mortenson
My obsession with skate culture was elevated at the start of Y2K when I opened the year and next three at the skating rink lock-ins with my cousins. From 6 pm till 6 am, we skated the night away to r&b and pop hits throughout the decades. Looking back on it now, I'd compare it to clubbing - while we were skating, our parents were out on the town as well, opening the new year similarly to how I've spent my early twenties. But what was so magical about literally rollerskating all night was how it never got boring. This is surprising to me because it's the same circular rotation for 12 hours - obviously, they throw in games, dance breaks, a lot of pizza and slushies, arcade games, winning prizes, and an actual sleeping area.
I'm so fond of these memories. I remember being so tired after eating that my mind was made up; I was done for the night. The moment I take my skates off, the DJ plays my favorite song at the time (Outkast - The Way You Move), and all of a sudden, my skates are back on just to go back on the rink to catch the vibe.
Now just writing about these memories, the bad moments are coming back as well. I vividly remember the golfball blisters we'd get from hardcore skating for hours on end. New Year's day was a full day of healing. I wonder if my cousins ever think about our memories so fondly?
I had forgotten what any of this felt like until now. After three days of owning a skateboard, the urge to get back on it is so alluring I'm finding any excuse to go anywhere just to skateboard. It's like I'm trying to make up for the lost time. My younger self is so jealous and so elated at the same time that I'm finally doing something that I've wanted engraved in my childhood more than biking or rollerskating. I don't remember explicitly asking for a skateboard, and I believe it was because I already knew my mother's answer would be no, or it was because I didn't think I could learn. Or possibly thinking more in-depth, it could've been the lack of Black representation in skate culture that turned me off.
Regardless of all the reasons why it didn't work out for me then, I owe many thanks to games like Tony Hawk Pro Skater, Razor Freestyle Scooter, and Jet Set Radio Future for opening the door for me. These games introduced me to a lifestyle that made me envious and appreciative of expanding my perspective.
I want to give a massive shoutout to Lenox Avenue for being my go-to haven while teaching myself to skate. The road is wide and often deserted from traffic. This is where I learned my footing before venturing through Miami Beach, where I looked like a complete jackass! I've never laughed so hard at myself when catching people stare at me, trying to figure out how to kick and push. The skateboard would fly out from under me and soar into near-by bushes while I stumble around, looking to see who saw me wipe out. Immediately, they'd laugh at me, and I'd join in. They'd give me some little encouragement, and I was on my way. A delightful moment after I ate shit was when I was crossing the Venetian, I bombed it in front of a family of five in the middle of the street cause I was skating in the bike-lane. The dad came over to help me up while his kid grabbed my skateboard. They helped me to the sidewalk, and the dad hands me my board, "Hey, are you ok? My son falls off of his all the time, I always tell him, you just gotta get back on there." In some other reality, I was instantly five again. It felt so surreal. I thanked him and his family and skated my way to work to start my morning.
It's crazy; buying this board was an impulse purchase after house sitting for friends. They gave me an amazon gift card, and I bought the cheapest best-reviewed board I could find. It was supposed to be polka dots, but I received kitchen plaid - which is ironic because my first time in Miami Beach, someone called me Aunt Jemima because of my headwrap. I guess I'll always be connected to her.