I've had an online journal for a very long time. I was always up-to-date with it, but after a while, my ability to keep it timely faded into obscurity. I tried to keep a written journal for one year....every day there was an entry, hand written, with little mementos from the days....receipts, coupons, movie tickets, flower petals,, etc. I've always held onto mementos though...bottled drops of rain from my 18th birthday....y'know...simple things....I am trying to become more persistent with the online journal though. What I wanted to work on in this class with my writing was my ability to detail events and scenarios. With fiction, you can grab the reader quite easily with all the fake stuff you're allowed to write about. With non-fiction however, you’ll have to turn a sometimes mundane experience into something quite extraordinary. This was hard for me in the beginning of the class but after a while I was able to develop a craft for myself to grab the reader easier with a good use of adjectives.
I have no plans for participating in a writers group. I'm a loner at heart with basically everything. I don't do clubs or conferences or meetings. There is no "I" in team, but there is one in "equipo"....and that is Spanish for team. I do understand that if I were to write for movies and etc. I would have to work with others, but that would most likely be in sense of moderation.
I want to be involved in film as a producer, director and a screenplay writer. Writing is a must obviously for writing scripts, and being a good writer helps the actors who have to read your work and act it out. How you convey what you want on the screen in words affects the final product.
Things I want to write that won't benefit me are probably just personal essays and literary journalism about the world and people and life and such. On my website, www.thecshop.org, I am constantly writing entries regarding our exploits. That's life.
I don't really expect any of my writing to get published by big name companys like J.K Rowling. I don't think I'll sit there and try to enter a contest or anything like a publication to get my work on there. If it happens it just happens.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Blog 17 - What I Have So Far
When I thought about the subject matter for my personal essay, skateboarding was the first thing that came to mind. Skateboarding is a huge part of my life and affects a lot of the other facets of my personality. It affects the music I listen to, a bunch of other things as well as how I view the rest of the world. It also affects how the rest of the world views me. The essay was basically meant to be about the writer, and you can learn a lot about me based on my skating; especially when it is compared and contrasted with my past and present self. Skateboarding shaves off a little bit of the fear factor we’re all born with. As I grew through my skating, I grew as a person mentally and physically. I decided to use this as my focus. From my initial paragraph I decided what I would focus the whole essay on. I didn't want what I had to say to come out in a blunt fashion either, so I had to be careful and use metaphors and other literary devices.
I usually type in my room, on my bed. Sometime with the television on and something with no real substance playing…like a skate video. Either that or a movie I’ve seen a billion times already and know like the back of my hand. Whatever it is, I want something playing that I am not going to focus on entirely. My focus would be split between my typing and the action going on the screen in front of me. If I find that my focus is wavering against my writing, I turn off the television and focus completely on my writing. I let it pour from my fingertips and onto the page erratically. Every now and then I’ll get the red squiggly line of shame underneath misspelled words and hit F7 to correct them. More times then not, it was slang not featured in the Microsoft Word Dictionary.
As this essay came to fruition, I had to make sure I was using tense correctly due to the fact that the essay was in the past, but with one event taking place farther back in the past than the other. I also had to be careful with terminology that a large audience not familiar with skateboarding would be able to understand. The fact that the paper dealt with skateboarding meant I had to be careful where I tread and betray my use of terms I am very much familiar with. Words like “kickflip” and “360 Flip” were changed to “the board flipped over twice, returning to its original arrangement” and “the board rotated a full three hundred and sixty degrees” respectively. Most of my edits were in reference to this cryptic dialog. It was really hard trying to convey something I was so familiar with to and audience that didn’t share the same acquaintance to skateboarding that I had had for years.
I usually type in my room, on my bed. Sometime with the television on and something with no real substance playing…like a skate video. Either that or a movie I’ve seen a billion times already and know like the back of my hand. Whatever it is, I want something playing that I am not going to focus on entirely. My focus would be split between my typing and the action going on the screen in front of me. If I find that my focus is wavering against my writing, I turn off the television and focus completely on my writing. I let it pour from my fingertips and onto the page erratically. Every now and then I’ll get the red squiggly line of shame underneath misspelled words and hit F7 to correct them. More times then not, it was slang not featured in the Microsoft Word Dictionary.
As this essay came to fruition, I had to make sure I was using tense correctly due to the fact that the essay was in the past, but with one event taking place farther back in the past than the other. I also had to be careful with terminology that a large audience not familiar with skateboarding would be able to understand. The fact that the paper dealt with skateboarding meant I had to be careful where I tread and betray my use of terms I am very much familiar with. Words like “kickflip” and “360 Flip” were changed to “the board flipped over twice, returning to its original arrangement” and “the board rotated a full three hundred and sixty degrees” respectively. Most of my edits were in reference to this cryptic dialog. It was really hard trying to convey something I was so familiar with to and audience that didn’t share the same acquaintance to skateboarding that I had had for years.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Blog 16 - Reflective Essay Contemplation
- In this course, I learned that factual writing could be just as powerful as fictional writing depending on the writer’s execution and presentation.
- From writing my personal essay, I utilized segmentation. I have never done that before. From that point forward, I rather abused it for future literature I was designing. I also italicized specifics junctures in me pieces to highlight them from the rest.
- The hardest essay for me to write in this class was perhaps the Nature Essay. I had to actually do research before writing about geese. I have seen the ones I spoke of in the essay countless times but never knew what type of geese they were let alone their latin name.
- The essay that I felt pushed me the most as a writer was the personal essay. I had to write within certain limits. Especially in regards to the terminology I was using and presenting to the reader. It was the first essay we wrote actually, and I don't really write non-fiction. Fiction is so easy to grab the readers attention with. you can write about dragons and knights with huge swords and bright white teeth. Non-Fiction on the other hand lacks otherworldy things such as magical broomsticks and elves.
- I want my reflective essay to basically emphasize what I deal with when I write. Not so much as the where or the why, but the writer's block or the arranging of things in the sentences that make up the esssay as a whole.
- I don't want to talk about the memoir or the literary journal. The memoir I felt was kind of all over the place. I was pretty disappointed in it actually. The journal I feel is the exact same thing....I'm disappointed with it. I'm not sure if it was my lack of ability to focus on the peice as a whole or if it was due to the requirmenets, but I just did not like those two essays at all.
Blog 15 - Somes Questions Writing Process
My Personal Essay
how did I start?
I started out by just letting the words escape me without censorship or moderation. I'd edit it later.
when did I figure out my focus?
I figured out my focus before I sat down and wrote my paper. I usually don't have it until I've already started writing the paper.
what did I leave out? what did I change? what did I emphasize?
I didn't leave out anything so much as modify things. Like terminology everyone in the world wouldn't understand or grasp. I emphasised a lot on the internal battle of facing a very physical challenge.
where did I get stuck and how did I get unstuck?
I got stuck when it came to changing things around to accomodate the average reader who does not skateboard. I also got stuck when trying to decide on what was more important and should be elaborated upon in certain scenes. Action, or the indivdual executing the action? Stuff like that...and even after that I would have to decide on specifics.
what were my major revisions?
I honestly believe that I made no MAJOR revisions.
how did my life (not on the page) affect my writing process?
I lived what I was writing. The affect of this truth allowed me to provide a more indepth, not only honest, but detailed account of the situation.
where and when did I write my best? what time?
I wrote at all times in my bedroom on my bed in the wee hours of the night. Not sure if I can say that is at my best though....
what writing rituals did I engage in?
The ritual of silence with a hint of procrastination.
how did I use thinking, talking and writing to develop my paper?
Very little talking. Once again, the focus of my paper was a battle of the mind facing a physical obstacle. Neither of which used much dialogue. It was mainly thinking that went on in my paper which forced me to write in such a way that I had to be very impacting with my ords and metaphors to grip the reader in a paper with little action.
how did I know when I was finished and how did I decide where to start?
how did I start?
I started out by just letting the words escape me without censorship or moderation. I'd edit it later.
when did I figure out my focus?
I figured out my focus before I sat down and wrote my paper. I usually don't have it until I've already started writing the paper.
what did I leave out? what did I change? what did I emphasize?
I didn't leave out anything so much as modify things. Like terminology everyone in the world wouldn't understand or grasp. I emphasised a lot on the internal battle of facing a very physical challenge.
where did I get stuck and how did I get unstuck?
I got stuck when it came to changing things around to accomodate the average reader who does not skateboard. I also got stuck when trying to decide on what was more important and should be elaborated upon in certain scenes. Action, or the indivdual executing the action? Stuff like that...and even after that I would have to decide on specifics.
what were my major revisions?
I honestly believe that I made no MAJOR revisions.
how did my life (not on the page) affect my writing process?
I lived what I was writing. The affect of this truth allowed me to provide a more indepth, not only honest, but detailed account of the situation.
where and when did I write my best? what time?
I wrote at all times in my bedroom on my bed in the wee hours of the night. Not sure if I can say that is at my best though....
what writing rituals did I engage in?
The ritual of silence with a hint of procrastination.
how did I use thinking, talking and writing to develop my paper?
Very little talking. Once again, the focus of my paper was a battle of the mind facing a physical obstacle. Neither of which used much dialogue. It was mainly thinking that went on in my paper which forced me to write in such a way that I had to be very impacting with my ords and metaphors to grip the reader in a paper with little action.
how did I know when I was finished and how did I decide where to start?
Saturday, November 24, 2007
BLOG 14 - Activites
Personal Essay
How did you choose your focus?
I chose skateboarding because of the affect it has had on my life and lifestyle. The essay was basically meant to be about the writer, and you can learn a lot about me based on my skating. Espeically when it is compared and contrasted with my past and present self.
How did you organize your essay?
I alternated between past and present representations of myself. Paragraph 1 would be myself in the past, the next would be the future, the next paragraph would be the past, etc.
Which parts of your composing process connected to experiences before the assignment?
I guess which events were more important, the past or the future ones...what note should I end on or start with, etc.
Did you use writing not specifically composed with this essay in mind?
No.
Did you use journal entries?
No.
How did you discover what you had to say?
From my initial paragraph I decided what I would focus the whole essay on. I didn't want what I had to say to come out in a blunt fashion either, so I had to be careful and use metaphors and other literary devices.Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Blog 12 - Rhetorical Analysis of Publication VEnues
Rhetorical Analysis of Publication Venues
1. Analysis of the editorial description of essays accepted
http://www.creativenonfiction.org/brevity/index.htm
Brevity features autobiographical, journalistic and lyrical works of creative non-fiction.
2. Description of several representative essays published in your venue
essays: Jean-Michele Gregory: Enormous
John Calderazzo: Lost on Colfax Avenue
Joel Peckham: Scream
subject matter:
The essays on this site go far beyond inconsistent and dissimilar. One is about a conversation, the other about slipping on ice and another one is about getting lost.
voice:
Clear, concise, vivid prose .
depth of discussion:
Subject can be viewed at from multiple perspectives and dissected into subtopics about simpler, but more meaningful things.
form:
Description, narration, dialog, script.
artistry:
Sustained metaphors, themes, recurring images or phrases, informal dialect, characterization, cynicism.
length:
750 words or less
3. Niche
audience:
Published/unpublished writers who are interested in nonfiction.
purpose:
Publish well-known and emerging writers working in the extremely brief (750 words or less) essay form.
4. Other
• 750 words or less, no exceptions.
• Nonfiction only.
• No more than two submissions per author per calendar year.
• Submit as a Microsoft Word attachment (no indent of paragraphs, single spaced, one extra space between each paragraph).
1. Analysis of the editorial description of essays accepted
http://www.creativenonfiction.org/brevity/index.htm
Brevity features autobiographical, journalistic and lyrical works of creative non-fiction.
2. Description of several representative essays published in your venue
essays: Jean-Michele Gregory: Enormous
John Calderazzo: Lost on Colfax Avenue
Joel Peckham: Scream
subject matter:
The essays on this site go far beyond inconsistent and dissimilar. One is about a conversation, the other about slipping on ice and another one is about getting lost.
voice:
Clear, concise, vivid prose .
depth of discussion:
Subject can be viewed at from multiple perspectives and dissected into subtopics about simpler, but more meaningful things.
form:
Description, narration, dialog, script.
artistry:
Sustained metaphors, themes, recurring images or phrases, informal dialect, characterization, cynicism.
length:
750 words or less
3. Niche
audience:
Published/unpublished writers who are interested in nonfiction.
purpose:
Publish well-known and emerging writers working in the extremely brief (750 words or less) essay form.
4. Other
• 750 words or less, no exceptions.
• Nonfiction only.
• No more than two submissions per author per calendar year.
• Submit as a Microsoft Word attachment (no indent of paragraphs, single spaced, one extra space between each paragraph).
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Blog 10 - Personal Essay
Beads of sweat slithered down my face as I tried to remember the steps to this convoluted waltz. I’ve danced this dance before…a million times actually. Almost everything in life resembles a dance when you think about it. Doing homework is like participating in ballet. Reading a magazine is kind of like tap-dancing. Surfing the internet is reminiscent of the rumba and paying your taxes can be compared to doing the salsa with a partner who constantly steps on your feet deliberately. Everything in life is a dance of some sort. For the millionth time in a week, I danced the dance of skateboarding. Furthermore, I was dancing with two left feet today.
I can feel the beads of sweat from nearly half a decade ago trying to break free from the scenery of my skin and race down the sides of my cheeks towards my chin. They’re trying to break free not because of how much effort I have been putting into my skating or because of how long I’ve been skating, but because of the fact that it was just really, really hot outside. We got to the skate spot, Roselle Park High School, and sat down for a bit. This is before driver’s licenses and Roselle Park wasn’t exactly right around the corner from where we lived. I got off my board and walked to the top of the five stairs that composed the staircase that led to entrance of the building. I rolled around for a moment in the wide corridor that one had to walk through to get to the front doors of the school. The ground was nice and smooth; the nicest and the smoothest I had ever ridden on; at that point in my skate career anyway. I stopped playing around, looked out towards the street, and watched as a few cars drove by. Then, my eyes slowly tiptoed towards the stairs.
There are cases where you look back at a set of stairs you just climbed and you can’t actually see the stairs. It’s like looking over the edge of a cliff and all you see is the ground below and a few yards away from the final step touching the floor. All I saw was a tree that seemed to be setting like half of the sun dipping below the horizon line. I thought to myself as Brett and Manny skated around the driveway of the school. I was thinking about all the wrong things. I thought about what might happen if I didn’t land the trick correctly or what might happen if I tried to flee from my board while I was airborne. I visualized the end of a Thanksgiving meal where you and a family member or friend grabbed the opposite legs of a wishbone, tore it in half, and saw who got the bigger piece. However, instead of a wishbone being torn in two, it was my legs going in opposite directions if one foot decided to stay on the board and the back foot decided not to tag along. Suddenly, my mind went blank. I stopped pacing around in my head and on the smooth concrete with my board. I looked out over the horizon and went for the trick.
I stopped being so pessimistic about the situation and thought about how flying off of a two stair wouldn’t kill me. Secondly, I had a right foot and a left foot… not two left feet. I’ve danced this dance a million times. I got on my board and advanced towards the stairs. Brett and Jon watched as I approached the two foot drop and stopped what they had been doing. My feet shuffled on the grip tape of my board in preparation of executing an ollie; the most basic trick in skateboarding. My back foot slammed on the back of my board while the front foot lingered forward to even things out. My eyes crept ahead of my position and all I could see was the hood of and SUV.
I ejected in midair as the SUV drove past me and stopped at the drive-thru ATM machine of Unity Bank. I landed on my feet in less than a millisecond from the time of evacuation. My board had flown to the right and landed on the lawn beside the stairs. The impact of a two set, well, this two set, is really insignificant. I say this two set because of the fact that there are staircases with two steps somewhere out in the world in which one of the steps is six feet tall. That means doing a trick off of something twelve feet tall. Any trick, be it an ollie (which is basically you “jumping” in the air with the board still “stuck” to your feet) or a three sixty flip in which the skateboard rotates a full three hundred and sixty degrees before you land back on it, is difficult. Not only is the object twelve feet tall, but you not only have to deal with the height of the steps, but the distance of them as well.
But enough of the boring stuff. When you do the math, doing an ollie off of a two step shouldn’t have been such a big problem. But I guess we all have to start somewhere, right?
I landed perfectly on the board and rolled away without a problem. I looked over my shoulder at the five stair of Roselle Park High and laughed at it. Not aloud, mind you…because that would have just been really weird. I got off my board and ran back up the stairs to try them again. Manny decided to take pictures with my camera and Brett decided to sit on the stairs while I tried them. This was only semi-distracting. There was a handrail that divided the stairs in two; a left side of the rail, and a right side. I was trying the right side and Brett was pretty much leaning against the rail; on the right side. He didn’t occupy anymore than ten percent of the right side with his sitting there so I went for the trick anyway and landed it again.
On my way back to the top of the stairs, Brett grabbed a newspaper from a stack of tied up Sunday Star Ledger’s that had been sitting on the steps. He flipped it open and decided to move closer to the center of where I had been soaring over on my skateboard for the last thirty minutes. He kept saying how cool it would look if I did the set while he was reading the paper.
We all have to start somewhere. My thing was this: there are tons of things you can skate and be good at. Whether it’s grinding handrails, flying over gaps and huge chasms, grinding ledges, skating skate parks, doing what Tony Hawk does, and so on and so forth. Why did I need to be good at skating staircases? Brett varial flipped the two-stepped staircase right after Jon had kickflipped it. A varial flip involves the board spinning one hundred and eighty degrees underneath you while a kickflip is where the board does somewhat of a barrel roll beneath you. I was sort of in awe at all the stuff they could do on it compared to what I could; nothing at all. I ran back up the stairs in about a millisecond and thought about the mathematics and arithmetic behind it. There wasn’t much to it. Pop and land. That’s all there was to it. I rolled up towards the stairs and tried again. I ended up throwing it away and not committing to it. All I thought about was how I could die on it or break something like my wrist or my face if something went wrong. I thought about dancing with two left feet.
Nothing went wrong. While I was soaring over Brett and his Sunday paper, I managed to catch a glimpse of the Family Circus before impact; that’s one of the funniest comic strips in the universe. I rolled into the semi-circled driveway of Roselle Park High and thought about how school the next day was going to suck. Not because I didn’t like school, I did, but because I would probably spend the whole day doodling skateboards and drawing staircases with a million steps on them and me flying down them in my notebook. A million stairs is a lot of stairs so I would probably end up using two notebooks, maybe even three. I looked back at the set of stairs and wondered if there were any good coupons in the Star Ledger.
I could tell that Jon and Brett thought I sucked at this thing. Then again, they also knew that they had put more man hours into skateboarding than I did. I was a geek who never missed a day of school at that point and loved computers, martial arts and drawing. I was not cut out for sports. I also wasn’t cut out for sitting behind a computer screen all day while the world outside passed me by.
I got back to the top of the stairs and thought about how many other things I could be perfecting with my skating other than staircases. I could be practicing grinds or rolling around in pools right now. But there were no empty swimming pools to use as concrete waves and tear asunder. Right now, at that moment, there was a flight of stairs a toddler could hop up backwards with out a problem laughing. I thought about how my failure stemmed from lack of commitment and not some sort of allergic reaction to stairs at Unity Banks across the state of New Jersey, because, at the end of the day, allergies is the only excuse not to be able to do something. And even then I would be able to find a two stair somewhere else. I put my board on the ground and rolled towards the horizon.
I did my ollie and thought only about the ollie. Not about gashes in foreheads or missing kneecaps, but about the now. I thought about how in forty years I could say to myself that I actually stuck to it and didn’t abandon ship in midair. I thought about how my shoes were untied and looked kind of like thin strands of spaghetti being thrown at a food fight in a school lunch room. I thought about how I landed all four wheels on the ground as I rolled away from the two stairs.
Brett and Jon applauded my accomplishment. To some, it would have seemed like a minor accomplishment at best, but to those who know what it’s like to start at the bottom and work your way up it was like a breath of fresh air. I picked up my board and did the staircase with two steps again and again and again and again. After about thirty minutes of back-to-back ollies down it, I got tired of dancing. I understood the choreography and was committed to executing it confidently. I looked back at the stairs and took off my dance shoes.
I can feel the beads of sweat from nearly half a decade ago trying to break free from the scenery of my skin and race down the sides of my cheeks towards my chin. They’re trying to break free not because of how much effort I have been putting into my skating or because of how long I’ve been skating, but because of the fact that it was just really, really hot outside. We got to the skate spot, Roselle Park High School, and sat down for a bit. This is before driver’s licenses and Roselle Park wasn’t exactly right around the corner from where we lived. I got off my board and walked to the top of the five stairs that composed the staircase that led to entrance of the building. I rolled around for a moment in the wide corridor that one had to walk through to get to the front doors of the school. The ground was nice and smooth; the nicest and the smoothest I had ever ridden on; at that point in my skate career anyway. I stopped playing around, looked out towards the street, and watched as a few cars drove by. Then, my eyes slowly tiptoed towards the stairs.
There are cases where you look back at a set of stairs you just climbed and you can’t actually see the stairs. It’s like looking over the edge of a cliff and all you see is the ground below and a few yards away from the final step touching the floor. All I saw was a tree that seemed to be setting like half of the sun dipping below the horizon line. I thought to myself as Brett and Manny skated around the driveway of the school. I was thinking about all the wrong things. I thought about what might happen if I didn’t land the trick correctly or what might happen if I tried to flee from my board while I was airborne. I visualized the end of a Thanksgiving meal where you and a family member or friend grabbed the opposite legs of a wishbone, tore it in half, and saw who got the bigger piece. However, instead of a wishbone being torn in two, it was my legs going in opposite directions if one foot decided to stay on the board and the back foot decided not to tag along. Suddenly, my mind went blank. I stopped pacing around in my head and on the smooth concrete with my board. I looked out over the horizon and went for the trick.
I stopped being so pessimistic about the situation and thought about how flying off of a two stair wouldn’t kill me. Secondly, I had a right foot and a left foot… not two left feet. I’ve danced this dance a million times. I got on my board and advanced towards the stairs. Brett and Jon watched as I approached the two foot drop and stopped what they had been doing. My feet shuffled on the grip tape of my board in preparation of executing an ollie; the most basic trick in skateboarding. My back foot slammed on the back of my board while the front foot lingered forward to even things out. My eyes crept ahead of my position and all I could see was the hood of and SUV.
I ejected in midair as the SUV drove past me and stopped at the drive-thru ATM machine of Unity Bank. I landed on my feet in less than a millisecond from the time of evacuation. My board had flown to the right and landed on the lawn beside the stairs. The impact of a two set, well, this two set, is really insignificant. I say this two set because of the fact that there are staircases with two steps somewhere out in the world in which one of the steps is six feet tall. That means doing a trick off of something twelve feet tall. Any trick, be it an ollie (which is basically you “jumping” in the air with the board still “stuck” to your feet) or a three sixty flip in which the skateboard rotates a full three hundred and sixty degrees before you land back on it, is difficult. Not only is the object twelve feet tall, but you not only have to deal with the height of the steps, but the distance of them as well.
But enough of the boring stuff. When you do the math, doing an ollie off of a two step shouldn’t have been such a big problem. But I guess we all have to start somewhere, right?
I landed perfectly on the board and rolled away without a problem. I looked over my shoulder at the five stair of Roselle Park High and laughed at it. Not aloud, mind you…because that would have just been really weird. I got off my board and ran back up the stairs to try them again. Manny decided to take pictures with my camera and Brett decided to sit on the stairs while I tried them. This was only semi-distracting. There was a handrail that divided the stairs in two; a left side of the rail, and a right side. I was trying the right side and Brett was pretty much leaning against the rail; on the right side. He didn’t occupy anymore than ten percent of the right side with his sitting there so I went for the trick anyway and landed it again.
On my way back to the top of the stairs, Brett grabbed a newspaper from a stack of tied up Sunday Star Ledger’s that had been sitting on the steps. He flipped it open and decided to move closer to the center of where I had been soaring over on my skateboard for the last thirty minutes. He kept saying how cool it would look if I did the set while he was reading the paper.
We all have to start somewhere. My thing was this: there are tons of things you can skate and be good at. Whether it’s grinding handrails, flying over gaps and huge chasms, grinding ledges, skating skate parks, doing what Tony Hawk does, and so on and so forth. Why did I need to be good at skating staircases? Brett varial flipped the two-stepped staircase right after Jon had kickflipped it. A varial flip involves the board spinning one hundred and eighty degrees underneath you while a kickflip is where the board does somewhat of a barrel roll beneath you. I was sort of in awe at all the stuff they could do on it compared to what I could; nothing at all. I ran back up the stairs in about a millisecond and thought about the mathematics and arithmetic behind it. There wasn’t much to it. Pop and land. That’s all there was to it. I rolled up towards the stairs and tried again. I ended up throwing it away and not committing to it. All I thought about was how I could die on it or break something like my wrist or my face if something went wrong. I thought about dancing with two left feet.
Nothing went wrong. While I was soaring over Brett and his Sunday paper, I managed to catch a glimpse of the Family Circus before impact; that’s one of the funniest comic strips in the universe. I rolled into the semi-circled driveway of Roselle Park High and thought about how school the next day was going to suck. Not because I didn’t like school, I did, but because I would probably spend the whole day doodling skateboards and drawing staircases with a million steps on them and me flying down them in my notebook. A million stairs is a lot of stairs so I would probably end up using two notebooks, maybe even three. I looked back at the set of stairs and wondered if there were any good coupons in the Star Ledger.
I could tell that Jon and Brett thought I sucked at this thing. Then again, they also knew that they had put more man hours into skateboarding than I did. I was a geek who never missed a day of school at that point and loved computers, martial arts and drawing. I was not cut out for sports. I also wasn’t cut out for sitting behind a computer screen all day while the world outside passed me by.
I got back to the top of the stairs and thought about how many other things I could be perfecting with my skating other than staircases. I could be practicing grinds or rolling around in pools right now. But there were no empty swimming pools to use as concrete waves and tear asunder. Right now, at that moment, there was a flight of stairs a toddler could hop up backwards with out a problem laughing. I thought about how my failure stemmed from lack of commitment and not some sort of allergic reaction to stairs at Unity Banks across the state of New Jersey, because, at the end of the day, allergies is the only excuse not to be able to do something. And even then I would be able to find a two stair somewhere else. I put my board on the ground and rolled towards the horizon.
I did my ollie and thought only about the ollie. Not about gashes in foreheads or missing kneecaps, but about the now. I thought about how in forty years I could say to myself that I actually stuck to it and didn’t abandon ship in midair. I thought about how my shoes were untied and looked kind of like thin strands of spaghetti being thrown at a food fight in a school lunch room. I thought about how I landed all four wheels on the ground as I rolled away from the two stairs.
Brett and Jon applauded my accomplishment. To some, it would have seemed like a minor accomplishment at best, but to those who know what it’s like to start at the bottom and work your way up it was like a breath of fresh air. I picked up my board and did the staircase with two steps again and again and again and again. After about thirty minutes of back-to-back ollies down it, I got tired of dancing. I understood the choreography and was committed to executing it confidently. I looked back at the stairs and took off my dance shoes.
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