(Tony) Hawking it Up

This post is dedicated to one of the more famous Hawks out there.

Over the weekend, I bought a skateboard for $25 (a bargain considering the usual prices) with the help of my shady business partner the Duck. The idea is that since the time it takes to lock a bike would negate the benefits of biking around my tiny college campus in the first place, I'd teach myself how to board over the summer. Why a skateboard? I didn't feel like shelling out the $200 for a longboard, and all my Ebay bids on cheaper, used versions were easily outbid or failed to reach the minimum threshold. Besides, there's something uncomfortable about paying big bucks for an item before you see it.

I spent a little time rolling around my kitchen, which is a pretty small place. It was pretty hard getting my balance (and getting up the guts to put both feet on the board while it was moving), but the crowded kitchen had plenty of handholds. I must have added a couple dollars to our energy bill every time I grabbed on to the fridge for support, since the door opened whenever I lost my balance (often).

But once I had a little bit of confidence, I trekked over to my grandma's house in search of a helmet (not only in observation about California's helmet laws for minors, but also because college is starting soon and I'd rather not lose any more brain cells than I already have over this summer). I found a treasure trove--wrist guards, knee pads, and elbow pads. I geared up. With all this protective equipment and a helmet, I was soon sweating bullets under the heat of the afternoon sun.

Which brings me to the question--why was I doing this at 4pm, when the sun was high in the sky and shade had retreated from the street I was practicing from?

I am a creature of whim. That is all.

But because of the added layers, I was definitely craving a whimsicle (see what I did there?). I spent about an hour soaring up and down the paved road in front of my house, flapping in a rather ungainly fashion and running foolishly after the board the few times it got away from me.

But it was a thrilling experience. The road rumbling beneath the wheels, the adrenaline rush and sense of doom as I looked up from my path to see my brother's Mustang directly in front of me, the sigh of relief as I stopped myself by grabbing onto the mailbox and the screech of pain as the hot metal burned me (ok, so the Mustang-mailbox part isn't true, but it so could have happened).

I can now coast in a relatively straight line and make extremely wide turns. Unfortunately, I can only turn to the right. I know everyone has a "good side" to them, but seriously. This is a little ridiculous. Maybe I'm just paranoid about falling onto my butt, the ONE place I was not artifically padded up on.

P.S. I noticed that my rendition of the Super Mario theme and the Schubert piece are woefully below the level of quality that the pieces deserve. Expect repostings of those sometime this week.