Get Over Yourself and the Skateboard With Your Child
Dexter, my ten-year-old, recently blew dust off an old skateboard he found in our garage and started running down the driveway, reminding me of his first shaky steps.
“Come on, dad! Roll with me. It will be cool, ”he said.
“Baby, I’m eight thousand years old,” I replied. “I will break my hip.”
Getting back on a skateboard with my middle-aged belly and gray beard seemed ridiculous, and I was sure he would give it up anyway, just like he gave up spinners. But he kept doing it, and he soon began to cut the driveway like a surfer at Pipeline.
Once in the park, I watched him decide whether to ride from the “big hill”. He had never had the guts to do it before, so he just stood upstairs, gazing cautiously at the sidewalk tape in front of him.
I wondered if I should give him a kick to say, “Isn’t that cool, buddy?” or let him risk falling. I decided to stay silent and watch, assuring myself that even if he disappeared, he probably would not die.
Soon he pushed off and, picking up speed, from fear turned to confidence. He looked like a skater.
He reached the bottom of the hill unharmed and shouted, “Did you see this? I did it, dad! “And it hit me like a truck: soon it will leave me on skates.
In a few years he will not care whether I “saw it” or not. He won’t ask me to skate with him or read him stories. He heads to an island where teenagers live, a place that adults hardly remember, and parents can’t even visit. The best we can hope for is that he will be safe, wear clean clothes most of the time, and possibly send a postcard.
So I decided that I didn’t care if I looked like a fat ass in midlife crisis if I pulled every muscle in my body, break an elbow, flay skin from my knees, or flay skin of my face. Whatever. I was going to ride with my child as much as he wanted from me.
Many parents do this.
I half hoped the local skate shop staff would dissuade me from my suicidal attempt to establish a father-son bond. Maybe they’ll say, “You’re too lame to ride anything other than Rascal, Daddy!” (this is how I imagine what skateboarders say), but instead I got the opposite attitude: a knowledgeable skateboarding pro who never even called me a freak.
“This is not unusual,” Brian Hanson, a clerk for legendary Los Angeles surfing and skateboarding vendor Val Surf, told me. “Most likely, three or four parents come to us a month looking for a board to ride with their kids.”
Which skateboard is right for you?
There are many skateboard options for all skill levels and wallets, from tiny penny boards to fit in your backpack, to street stunt-style ice cream for kids to ride, to massive longboards.
Longboards are the best choice for old people skateboards. Originally designed for downhill skiing, they tend to have a low profile and softer and larger wheels for greater comfort. They are stable so you can travel with ease, boosting your mileage with a single tap and enjoying a smooth, smooth ride. You can even grab a racket and train your upper body without even pushing. A great choice if you are new to figure skating.
But most of the traditional skateboarding tricks – kickflips and FS 180s – are not suitable for a longboard, and you won’t see many people riding them in skateparks. To do this, you need a lighter, street-style board.
According to Hanson, a Val Surf employee, the best advice is “do what you know.”
“Take what you’re used to,” Hanson said. “If someone was skating in, say, the 1980s, we can install a board like this.”
Surprisingly, they still do everything I rode back then, so I was able to recreate my kids’ skateboard exactly – a Hosoi Hammerhead deck, Independent trucks and Orange Juice soft wheels. Only the Siouxsie and the Banshees sticker is missing.
While I (probably) won’t fall on the huge ramps and bowls that the Hammerhead was designed for, it’s wide and stable, but not too heavy for nollies and push-it (if I choose to learn how to do these modern tricks).
For many, recreating an old rig is the right choice, but if you’re used to riding a penny board or a board with metal roller skate wheels attached to it, you might want to improve your game. Cheap sports equipment is not only less fun to use, it can be dangerous, and now that you are old, hopefully you can afford the skateboard you previously dreamed of.
Seriously, put on your helmet and pads and have your child do the same.
I used to only skate in cropped jeans and high-top sneakers, but I was an idiot and I have the scars to prove it. Now I understand that you need protection when doing something remotely dangerous, so I took a helmet, knee and elbow pads, and handcuffs.
Make sure your child is wearing certified durable pads, especially in a skate park. This is not a place to save. Skateboarding is dangerous, but pads can prevent a host of potential injuries. Perhaps your child will wear a helmet as a teenager and you are not around. Everything is possible.
That first trip
With the appropriate armor and my new / old board under my arm, Dexter and I walked out of the skate shop. I parked my hammer and stepped carefully on it.
I gave up skating because of cars and girls when I was 16. It was many years ago, so I was ready for a long study to become a beginner again. But it didn’t go like that. As soon as I pushed off, time went back.
All my abilities were there, as if I had never stopped skating. The delicate balance and power needed to ride a skateboard instinctively snapped into place. My center of gravity had changed a lot and my muscles were decrepit from desk work and age, but somehow my body was remembered. My cells are memorized.
I did a couple of 180 kick turns and a nose manual and I was graceful , with 1970s old school surf inspired style. I experienced the flow of skating, a feeling that makes it feel more like art or prayer than sport, and for a moment I was no longer an old man. I’m a skater. I would go home.
Calm down dad and mom
This did not last long.
After seven minutes of epiphany / euphoria, I got off the board and everything hurt. My knees. My ankles. My back. The soles of my feet. Everything.
Skateboarding is physically more difficult for seniors than for children. It’s important to respect that, be aware of your fitness limitations, and start small and work your way up to longer, more stressful trips. Ice and ibuprofen are essential. No matter how gradually you gain momentum, skateboarding uses a unique set of muscles, and if you’re not in good shape, you will feel it the next day. (As with starting any new workout, it’s a good idea to talk to your doctor.)
The ground is also much harder than it used to be. I found out about this at a local skate park when my first attempt at rock fakes ended with a full blow to the concrete. You will feel great and your body will make you think that you can “return” to the maneuvers and tricks that you used before, but this is an illusion. While the basics came back to me instantly, the more complex aspects of ice skating – horseback riding, heel flips, etc. – just don’t work the way they used to. So take it easy.
You can restore your old moves – and even get better – as an older skater, but you have to approach it differently. Children throw themselves into the half-pipe without thinking about the consequences, then destroy it 50 times until they finally get their trick. This can be a great learning tool for kids, but as you get older, you need to go beyond carefully and gradually. Older dogs can learn new tricks, but you must teach them carefully.
It’s all about this connection
In the few months Dex and I skated together, I pulled my calf muscles twice, ripped the skin off my knee for the first time since I drunkenly dropped out of a bar at 20, and every morning I wake up so numb I can barely get up from my bed. And God knows how many judgmental suburban moms clacked their tongues during my midlife crisis in their SUVs.
But it’s worth it. This is so much fun.
In his eternal present childhood, Dexter probably thinks that he will always ride with his dad every day after school. But I know how quickly this will end. Maybe in a year, maybe tomorrow, Dexter can hide his board next to a dusty Lego set in a closet and never pick it up again. Maybe he will tell me: “Dad, I’d rather go for a ride with my friends,” or maybe he won’t say anything at all.
I don’t know when and how the separation will come, but I know that it’s inevitable. I know it’s my job to make everything run smoothly and gracefully, like a perfectly cut bank, but until that day comes, I’ll be there for him.
I don’t care if I get hurt. I don’t care if I look stupid. Until ten-year-old Dexter is gone forever, we’ll buckle up our helmets and bomb the big hill in the park. We’re going to work on a 180-degree fit, bandaging skinned elbows, and freezing sore muscles. We’ll ride together as long and hard as we can.