Nostalgic

     If you've been reading this blog, you have probably noticed that I have nostalgic tendencies. Well, unfortunately, I've been unable to skate for the last several weeks so I've got nothing to blog about. Nonetheless, I've been thinking quite a bit about the past lately, especially the last ten years. This is largely due to the recent 10 year anniversary of the September 11th attacks. This year also marks 10 years since I graduated from high school. Hence I've been doing a lot of reflecting on skateboarding, politics, and my life over the last ten years. I've lost or become disconnected with many of my freinds since 2001. One of those freinds was a skateboarder who was really pretty influential in mine and many of my friends lives. His name was Jacob and he was one of the least hesitant skateboarders I've ever met, always willing to push the boundaries and the sport.
     I'd like to take two experiences which I had with Jacob and reflect on them. They both occured 10 years ago. The first was when he showed me how much fun it was to "bomb" a hill. We were visiting an old friend of his in a suburban neighborhood and he wanted to "bomb" this hill. I believe it was just he, his brother, and I (and maybe Doug?). This hill was MASSIVE! Well, if you've already peeked at the photo, then you know where this is going. While Jacob and his brother were able to conquer the hill, I was somewhere between half and two-thirds down it reaching maximum velocity when I notice a manhole. It was covered, but it was enough to throw my balance off and then came the speed wobbles. Anyone who skates knows that once the speed wobbles start its do or die. I decided to hang with it, but soon found myself suspended in the air and preparing for one of the worst falls of my life. I seemingly slid forever. I lost a lot of skin from my hands, knees, elbows, and hip. I had so much speed that the sliding literally ripped my boxers off one of my legs. A few days ago when I was getting ready for work and noticed this:

I remembered this experience and realized it had been ten years. As odd as it may sound, I'm glad I still have this scar because while Jacob has since gone, I will continue to have this scar to remind me of his liberating outlook on life, even when it was met with sometimes uncomfortable consequences.

     Jacob taught me more than just the joys of balls to the wall skating, he taught me the thrills (and skills) of stressing out "the man." Just a few months after 9-11, I went on a snowboarding trip with Jacob and his brother. This was at a time when airport security (for obvious reasons) was ramped up like never before in this country. The National Guard was in the airports with assault weapons (atleast in DFW, although if I remember correctly, they only had handguns in Atlanta) and security checks were beginning to intensify. Jacob somehow made it through security after breaking in line and being completely annebriated (this did cause quite a stir). After a bit of an ordeal and being on a first name basis with a few of the guards, we eventually made it through to our gate. We were flying standby, so we had to wait for flights and try to catch seats. After a long day of this, I was lying on the floor taking a nap. Meanwhile, Jacob was napping in one of the golf cart things. Suddenly, I heard the distinct beeping noise which those carts make when turned on and saw the mounted orange light flashing. Knowing Jacob, I immediately jumped up and avoided being run over by him. He then proceeded (still a bit drunk I'm sure) into a doorway, wedging the cart into the frame and crashing it into a wall. It was ridiculous. Soon enough security was interogating us and a gaurd was taking us directly to his supervisor. For the first time in my life I knew why there were random doors down the concourses, they were security offices. Fortunately for me Jacob was in charge. We certainly knew (especially given the timing) were going to be in trouble. Walking down a long hall we took a hard  right turn as the gaurd led the way. Immediately after the turn, Jacob pulled an about face and sprinted back to the concourse. We spent the next 10 minutes running through the airport away from the gaurd. By some miracle (and with people asking us questions like "what's wrong?" and "what happened?!") we were able to get out without getting caught. In retrospect, I realize that this whole incident was ridiculous, juvenile, and immature. Even with all that being quite apparant, I still cherish the humor of this memory and the others which skating provided me with before 2001. Since 2001, my life has changed significantly. I would never even consider doing something like this now, nonetheless when I see that scar on my hip, I can't help but smile and laugh a little.