Tools of the trade...

Humble Beginnings (aka We All Remember Our First Time...)

By most standards I was a bit of a late-starter; I was about 12 when I got my first skateboard. A hand-me-down from my uncle, which was probably a hand-me-down to him too, it was a skinny little 70's style sidewalk surfer, decked out in black & gold like a bitchin' Firebird (think Smokey & the Bandit, minus the eagle on the hood), and made of metal so it hurt like fuck if you took it in the shin.  Of course, skateboards have no instructions and I had no teacher, but I instinctively spun kickturn 360's and skitched rides in the strip mall parking lot down the hill from my Grandpa's house.  

Keep in mind, this was the early-80's and new wave had begun vomiting neon on everything.  Styles changed and so did the boards, so shortly after bringing it home I painted it baby blue and stuck a McGill skull & snake sticker on the bottom in an attempt to keep up with the times, but I lived in the sticks with nary a patch of concrete in sight, so mostly I just did my best skating down my back porch and avoiding the couches, bird cages, and other flotsam that had collected there.  Being in the country left me with very little exposure to the "real" world, so other than a beat up old copy of Thrasher that I somehow managed to smuggle in from the outside, I had no influence to rely on or shape me.  No peers, no one watching; skating for the sake of skating.

Apparently, despite such humble beginnings, skateboarding made a lasting impression, because I continued to skate, developing what would turn out to be a life-long bond with the board.  Since then I've come and gone from skating a few times, but it's always been there for me when I returned, ready and willing to take my dues in blood, just like that little metal board that started it all... - A.