Saturday, August 27, 2011


Staring at the two black hands of time, itching for the minute hand to make a move clockwise and sound off the alarm, I sit, pretending to listen to history that Mr. Rocha is preaching on the whiteboard. I doodle the mindgame logo, the next one will be the senate "S". He probably thinks I'm the best note taker.

I look out the door to check the weather. Sunny blue skies with a breeze. I start to imagine all of the new tricks I want to do at "the pits". Ledges at the park across the street from Carson High in a wading pool that apparently is similar to the pits in Venice. I wouldn't know. I can't wait to get my license. I'm going to drive to so many bladespots.

I position my feet in Topsoul position and I start to imagine it to truespin topsoul just like Dominic Sagona was doing in that box magazine. My palms get sweaty. The bell rings, the sounds of freedom. I rush home and put in "The Best of VG 1" and fast forward it to the Dr. Octagon song "Wild and Crazy". Dustin Latimer, Kevin Gillan, and Randy Spizer, my top 5 favorite bladers at the time.

I watch it twice and strap on my charcoal grey USD Latimer's and adjust the tongue stuffing. I get to Vets before anyone else does. An hour goes by as I try to mimic every trick I just watched. One by one Filipinos come in, each strapped with Roces Fifth Elements in black, white, blue, and even green. Others with USD thrones setup the same way Julio has them in "Coup De Tat", a filipino professional blader (fucken cool).

The older bladers that had licenses would come by and offer to take us to Dolphin park on the east side of Carson. Ranier would call shotgun and they'd call trunk for me. I didn't mind. I'd rather have space to lay down instead of be squished in the back seat overcrowded with five people.

We would get there and the ledges were smooth, skateboarders never went here for some reason. Then it was time to see how low we can get on a backside royale and see who can get the farthest.

These were the golden years of rollerblading. When life was infinite and it was hard to worry about the future when the present was this good. In a few years we would all graduate and go on in our own directions. College, raise a family, meth, or something else that didn't involve rollerblading. Unlike most of them, I stayed a blader. My outlet for stress, my safe haven from this insane society. I had to look forward trying to keep away from the depression that would overwhelm me knowing that life would never be like this again.

I moved to Pomona to do the college thing with my best friend/ blader Bino. Chuck the older brother to me in the crew went to Portland to start his family. Some magnetic force aligned in the universe, or maybe it was the product of some aliens but, now 10 years later Bino, chuck, and I live in Carson and still like to rollerblade. Instead of hunting for ledges there is an infinite amount of bladeparks around L.A. We all now have licenses with cars and a job to pay for gas money to go to these spots we used to dream of in class.

Its a different cast of characters with all new blade trends. Although its the same timeless classic feel. I thought these days were dead.