Better than sex? [2MB]
And now, even though Wendy's yet to learn how to refocus the damned thing when I slide through her field of vision—there's a long delay on a digital camera; between the click and the pic falls the shadow—we're trying different shots as I limber up down the drive. And, man, much as I really enjoy this board, there's more to it than the physical sweep and flow. This stuff is Spiritual, my Brothers and Sisters. I was born to skate. And after all these years, the drugs, the rehabs, the broken careers, the failed relationships, the therapists, the prisons, the trial medications, the ECT... whatever, I have truly found myself.
And do I have news for you? You too can inject true meaning into your boring, staid, sad, sedentary, academic, deadwood lives.
No, but it'll do for now...
That's right. You have an obligation-free, no-strings attached invitation to join Brother Marek, Father Christopher, The Merry Frankster and me this coming Sunday at the Jesus Bunker for An Old Man's Introduction to Skateboarding in MB++. We'll do the nursery slopes above the amphitheater first, before heading out to Tiger Falls and the hill running past the GOP internment camp. Don't miss it. It's the closest you'll ever get to a free lunch, 72 virgins, and walking on water. Trust me on this one. I am, after all, 47-years old and a classified Master.
Finding One's Self? I've no idea why I thought of it beyond my use of it above. The phrase bugged me; it seemed familiar. And then I remembered. It was the beautiful debut album of Moses Taiwa Mololekwa, a potentially great South African musician who, at 27, allegedly murdered his wife before hanging himself—fair warning that one might not like what one finds.
Far better to head for the hills. With Wendy practicing the camera angles, I'm hoping to get some relatively fast carving done down Oak Avenue this coming weekend. Whether I crash and burn or not, it'll be posted here.
