Back From Somewhere

My kids love to do new things. At least they think they do. They’re really good at getting excited about things. Like most kids (I imagine), they get excited about things even when I know they have only a dim inkling of what those things might actually entail. The idea, the anticipation, is often more exciting in fact than the actual thing.

I went to get some coffee the other morning and noticed that the Jittery Joe’s roaster was hosting a skate contest the following Saturday. Skating and surfing more or less defined my existence (along with punk rock) from junior high through, well, now.

I try not to steer my kids in any particular direction. I try to expose them to as many different things as possible and see where they’re drawn. But secretly I really hope they end up liking a few of the things I did when I was a kid, like skate boarding. So I mentioned the skate contest the night before and showed them a bit of the old Bones Brigade video. They were entertained for a few minutes and then they wanted to move on to something else.

I figured the actual skate contest would be the same way: take it in for an hour or so and then slowly interest would wane and we’d all head home. That’s about how it generally goes when we take them to any sort of organized event.

This time, however, I was wrong. They could not get enough of the skating. Neither the intense afternoon sun beating down on the concrete slab of parking lot nor the humidity left over from morning rains deterred them. We were there all afternoon, over four hours of skating, pulled pork and the occasional train rolling by. They never stopped loving it.

And neither did I. I haven’t skated in years. Over a decade. And even before that most I did was use my old board to go get cigarettes from the gas station down the street. But skating culture, along with surfing culture and punk culture are things that were a huge part of me and that has never never gone away, even if I mostly watch from afar these days.

I still feel more at home among skaters, surfers and punks than anywhere else.

Since having kids though I’ve accidentally drifted away from that culture. There are practical considerations. It’s hard to get out to shows, the beach is a really long way away and I no longer have a skateboard. Instead I find myself at the sort of “kid friendly” affairs I swore I would never go to. And you know what, I was right, those things suck. And they aren’t very kid friendly either. But we’re remarkably adaptable creatures. Do something enough and it starts to feel normal, no matter how uncomfortable it might be.

I spent so much time not fitting in at kids birthday parties and “kid friendly” events around town I forgot that there was actually people with whom I did fit in. I’d forgotten that I had a people.

The Shredder Joes contest was a nice reminder that there are still sane, friendly, open people out there in the world among whom I feel at home.

On the drive home Corrinne turned to me and said “I know it’s been 18 years, but I felt more at home there than I do at any of these hipster family bullshit events we go to.” I’d been thinking a similar thing, but I’d been wondering why.

Why did the kids want to spend four hours watching skaters and can’t be bothered with a petting zoo for more than five minutes?

I have a few theories, but the one that’s most appealing is pretty simple: because the world of skating doesn’t have rules. There are the basics rules of taking turns and accommodating the people around you, but for the most part you are expected to do whatever you want to do. The petting zoos and the kid friendly events are full of waiting in line and doing as you’re told.

Another part of it is the welcoming nature of people in skate/surf/punk scene. That’s not to say there aren’t assholes in any group of people. There absolutely are, especially surfers who can be real territorial, but exceptions aside, generally, if you have the humility to start at the bottom, you’ll be accepted eventually. It’s even easier if you’re a kid, I’ve seen some of the scariest looking heavily tattooed Hawaiian surfers move aside with a smile for some kid just learning¹. The thing about learning a skill like surfing or skating is that you never forget that it is learned, and that tends to create sympathy for those who are just starting out.

Another thing that I think makes the skate/surf/punk scene different is that it’s built around practice and failure. Watching skating is watching failure after failure until that time when you stick it and suddenly all that failure is gone. People comfortable with failure typically have less to prove. It was always my experience that skaters, surfers and punks were really only trying to prove something when they’re skating, surfing or playing. Hipster parent events are one big gathering of uptight people with something to prove and nowhere to prove it. The difference between the two is palpable.

It could also be that those scenes are full of people who, by necessity, have mastered their fears. To a degree anyway. You can only get so far in skating if you’re afraid of getting hurt. I know this because I was always too afraid of getting hurt to be any good². Anyone willing to drop in on a backyard ramp or empty pool has necessarily mastered at least some of their fear. Fear closes you up, it feeds on itself.

Whatever it is that makes these things different my kids seem to pick up on it.

The skate show was also the single most diverse event I’ve ever been to in Athens. With one exception, there was not a single woman skating. That was disappointing, but when we got home I pulled up some videos of Vanessa Torres, Elissa Steamer and Peggy Oki, along with some great home videos of girls skating on YouTube to balance things out.

The best part of the day for me though was on the way home when Olivia asked if she could have a skateboard for her birthday. Absolutely.