skateboarding and Zen

Six foot half-pipe over in Williamsburg,
Down the street from the East Bay,
At so-and-so’s house, south of the highway,
Just east of the golf course and resort.
I borrowed a helmet and some pads,
I was gonna drop in no doubt,
Asked my boy Jeff what I was supposed to do,
Slam the board, ride the transition.
I was too stupid to be scared,
The crew was all there—Harry, Ian, Kevin,
We had some girls in tow—
Angie was the only one I knew.
I set up, pushed the nose down,
Thought I slammed it hard enough,
I landed on my back on the flat,
Slammed so hard it knocked me out.
Half-dreaming, half-awake, confused—
Saw a gateway to another dimension,
Saw a galaxy of stars above my head,
Didn’t recognize my own name.
“You alright, you o.k.?” someone said,
“Yeah . . . well . . . I suppose so.”
Out of body out of mind,
Outside of space and time.
I gave it up, I walked away,
Years later rediscovered with my kids,
The board was still in my blood,
Wanted to ride fast and high.
Three-foot quarter pipe over in Holt,
The kids and I checking out the metal park,
Decided to drop-in, time to do or die,
Minutes pass and I stand on the lip.
Envisioning my last big slam,
But this time I’m gonna land,
I slam the board and start to cruise,
Slow-motion collapse as I hit the flat.
Fell face forward I thrust out my arms,
Wrists bear the brunt of my body weight,
Palms shredded, wrists numb, board shot,
Had to roll to avoid getting hit on the rebound.
Z, Nan and E all come running over,
Arms shooting pain from forearm to fingers,
I gotta drive them home, gotta shake this off,
Another failed drop-in to add to my collection.
Tried to find my courage numerous times,
Would stand in position for countless minutes,
The longer I waited, the less likely I would try,
Couldn’t trust myself, trust the board enough.
I’ve tackled school districts and city hall,
Went head-to-head with wannabe skins,
Refused to be intimidating by bullies,
Fought for myself and my family.
But couldn’t even bring myself to even try,
When it came to dropping in I just gave up,
Never wanted to let go and give it a shot,
Just knew I would just maim myself again.
I spent a lot of time in the bowl out of sight,
Taught myself how to kickturn backside,
Rolled in from the shallow to the deep,
Board would stall, I would turn, almost vertical.
So two days before the New Year,
Just outside of Lansing, skating all alone,
No one to see, no one to help,
Dropped in from five feet,
not hard enough, manualed,
Landed on my butt, tried again,
Nailed it, didn’t seem like much.
Managed a few more, before biting it,
Twisting my knee, pulled something-or-other,
Still limping around the day after,
Upset that I’m out of commission.
Snow’s due to fly at any moment,
I just want to keep progressing,
But now everything’s on hold,
Everything will have to be relearned.
Come spring-time in the Great Lakes,
I’ll have to face my demons once more,
Stare down the tranny, standing on the coping,
Knee-pain added to my list of fears.
Wife tells me to give it up,
Accept that I’m too old, too frail,
And do something less dangerous,
Time to act my age and take up golf.
She’s gotta be pulling my leg, what the hell,
No way I’m gonna golf as long as I can walk,
Gonna take up the challenge, drop into the bowl,
She’s just upset that I got hurt.
Could have hurt myself shoveling snow,
Moving furniture or doing yard work,
I’m getting older that I can’t deny,
But I’ll be more careful, can’t give up so fast.
I figured out all the ways it can go wrong,
Leaning too far back, too far forward,
Not balanced correctly, feet off the board,
I learn by doing, can’t just listen or watch.
There is no guarantee of staying injury-free,
Regardless of what I do, where I go,
This sport, this activity that you frown upon,
Connects me to myself, it sets me free.
There are no external rewards for what we do,
Don’t want to recapture my youth,
This is all brand new, need it to live,
Need a reason to stay on this treadmill.
Day-in day-out I work and stew,
Need an outlet, need a way to express,
Something beyond words, beyond concepts,
I joke about skateboarding and Zen, but it is true.
Walking through the gateless gate,
The essence of being, skating is about doing,
Not about thinking or dreaming,
A martial art of the highest caliber.
So my body betrays me, but that is the way,
This body will betray me regardless of what I do,
If it must fall apart, at least I can call the shots,
Doing what I want to do, until it works no longer.
Remember if you can how I was,
Before I went back on the board,
Nothing more than a living corpse,
Not really living, just waiting for death.
Nowadays I feel more content,
I feel somewhat connected,
To my kids, to my environment,
A simple toy with four wheels,
Has given me back my life,
And Pain is a small price to pay.