A Life Happens

A tree falls in a neighbro-hood. Who gives a rip?

Last night I dreamt extensively of roving around a candle store. An UPSCALE CANDLE STORE with moody hues and furry sings the blues. There were non-traditional shapes and unexpected scents with names like “sea balls” or “nard-vark.” Just kidding. I don’t remember the scent names. I do remember that I couldn’t find a candle I really liked and I felt like I couldn’t afford them anyway. WHAT COULD BE A MORE STUPID STORY.

Then I dreamt I was swimming with dolphins. I have been dreaming that frequently lately. WHY.

Nobody likes dream stories. But do they like dream stories with a sort of aggravatingly stupid story line involving trolling around a candle shop whose proprietors likely bought their coffee at a place named after two things related to hunting wildlife and carpentry? The names would evoke a bareness of bone and we would live with it in a sort of abstemious way. We would feel connected to a barbaric lifestyle with aristocratic distance and artful bathroom decor.

I rode my skateboard for the first time since Sunday this morning. I know that doesn’t seem long. But I whacked my noggin in the bowl at Garvanza Sunday, and was worried about watching myself grow dumber and dumber (or at least achieve Jim Carrey’s hair) until my frontal lobe withered into uselessness and I spent my life hitting on everyone in my family. Fortunately for me and the fact that I am not French that did not happen. I am just a regular person still, if a regular person means raising lots of cats and spending too much money on health food. Ugh that almost made me not love myself.

I went to Garvanza to skate this morning. There was one dude there I see fairly often who has a beard and a Welcome board. He’s a nice enough dude. There was also a white dad there riding his skateboard in running shoes with his front toe pointing forward. He was rolling around and loudly taking calls on his cell phone. He had his kids with him. Probably about 6 and 8 years old, both on scooters. Besides the fact that everything was wrong with them, they seemed fine.

I rode around and felt exhilarated that I could skate and my head seemed fine. I tossed out some frontside grinds, and that sealed the deal that I was okay. I had decided I would only skate for half an hour, just to not push my brain too hard (great strategy for always). I went to get a couple runs in the bowl, and the two kids were in there with their scooters. They couldn’t get out and their dad had disappeared. They handed me their scooters and I was talking to them about running out when their father, a man who appeared to be in his mid-40’s, came back in the park with his remote control truck. I saw him stop and talk to Bertha, and ask her why she wasn’t doing anything about the graffiti in the bowl. He brought his dumb truck up to play with it in the bowl so I asked him not to so I could skate it. I said, “that doesn’t really belong in here.” He said, “Yeah it does, it doesn’t say anywhere that it doesn’t.” Because the conversation was clearly stupid and he didn’t give a fuck, I just skated the bowl. I patted myself on the butt for not starting an argument. The dude on the Welcome board rolled over and I said, “Kinda next level kook to be driving a remote control car around.” He said, “I think it’s rad.” So I decided that if I was the only dissenting vote in this wonderful joy election, I was gonna let it go and just quietly think less of them all. It just makes me so fucking mad when some privileged dumbass comes busting into a scenario he doesn’t know, in a neighborhood he doesn’t live in, and swiftly imposes all his ways on it. If you don’t know where you are, why not hang back and observe for a good long time. Show respect. Be part and skate there, but don’t disrupt the existing vibe or bring your input to it until you’ve honored what’s there. I would say, “Your time will come” but if you are white your time is basically happening constantly so hang the fuck back for once. I love Garvanza and the skaters there so much.

Okay so there, those are feelings.

Good one.

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