Spring Break, when scheduled in March, is generally referred to as late winter break in the Midwest. Emergency-prepared parents of elementary and middle school muppets, in an effort to avoid violent outbreaks of cabin fever, attempt to schedule a week’s worth of events around the seven- to ten-day weather forecast: Zoos, indoor water parks, forest preserve walking paths, park district open gyms, play dates, bowling, museums, new video games, and visits with grandma and grandpa are all standard standby plans for most families.
As our son Jamie has been skateboarding for more than two years now, we saved the trip to the indoor skate park for the worst weather day of the week. When we awoke Friday morning to find it pouring rain and thirty-eight degrees, we thought it was perfect weather for frolicking penguins and an indoor skate park. Packing his decks, helmet, pads, favorite skating bud and favorite sister/videographer, we piled into the minivan and were ready for an epic day of bails and bruises.
Jamie’s friend’s eyes went wide with surprise when he took in the park for the first time: Multiple launch ramps, barriers for jumping, rails to grind, quarter pipes, pyramids, garden gaps, hubbas, boys of all ages and boards hurtling through space, a thumping baseline pounding through the overhead speakers – a skater’s paradise.
No matter what skate park we take Jamie to, we’re always amazed that age and skill do not go hand-in-hand; little five-year-old boys can often trick circles around some ten and eighteen-year-olds with the ease and grace of pro skaters, showing no signs of hesitation or fear.
Also impressive, bordering on touching, is the level of camaraderie among skaters at any given park. While there is of course a competitive streak in each of them to be the primo skater to stick the sickest trick, there is an equal level of respect and encouragement for fellow skaters at all skill levels. Their eyes are constantly watching each other’s lines, doing their best to avoid collisions of bodies and boards, offering hands-up to fellow skaters when they bail.
As Jamie and Austin kicked-off their four-hour skate marathon, we were impressed at how well they held their own with the twenty or so other skaters. Don’t get me wrong, there were some impressively ugly spills into walls, barriers, and other skaters, but tempers never flared, not once.
Every so often we would see Jamie or Austin attempt something new, bail, and then see them chatting with a fellow skater, demonstrating correct foot positions or checking-out their decks and trucks. A few seconds later, a successful landing followed by a fist bump, and the boys were off and running to stick their next trick, with Jordan dutifully and artfully memorializing every moment on tape.
The skater parents’ challenge is to try to keep up with the number of band aids and antibiotic creams necessary to patch up the park warrior at the end of the day: Elbows, forearms, knees and shin bones are marked by bruises, gashes and tell tale scars from years of ramp jumping and rail grinding. As a sage Jamie the Skater Philosopher recently explained to me, “If I don’t come home with at least one new bruise each time, I didn’t accomplish anything new.”
Spring Break provided Jamie with an accelerated learning curve: Dry days, no matter how cold, found him outside skating on our deck or practicing tricks on his new ramp he received for Christmas on our front driveway. Raining, you say? Simply move the party indoors, where he carved a skating space out for himself in our overcrowded garage, jumping over stacked milk crates and broken storage totes.
Spring Break also provided Jim and I with a crash course in skating trick terminology: “Mom, I just landed a 360 pop shuvit!” “Dad, watch this indy grab!” As the boys and their decks moved so quickly, Jordan’s videotaping came in handy today: We reviewed Jamie’s tricks in slow motion as he led the lesson in Skating Tricks and Terminology 101 grinning ear-to-ear, incorporating YouTube clips for tricks only the pros can land.
For the record, while I could not identify them in a skater’s lineup, I enjoy throwing around key phrases in my newly discovered language: If anyone challenges me to a game of S-K-A-T-E, I will dazzle them with a backside fakie 360 ollie to start, a 5-0 (pronounced five-oh), a 540 pop shuv it (not a mere 360), a kick flip sex change, a rock to fakie, and if necessary, finish them off with an impossible.
And just in case I bail and/or lose, I will leave my health insurance card pinned to the front of my hoodie…
Okay, so todays blog has to qualify you as one of the coolest Moms ever... go Laura!
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