Skating Through Life

Anyone remember these? Steel wheeled one-size-fits-all roller skates that required a skate key to make them fit.

First of all you have to turn the skates over and loosen the nut in the middle with one end of the skate key. Then you have to adjust the length by sliding the front half back and forth. Once the skate fits your shoe, the nut had to be tighten again.

Then you put your foot (preferably with shoes on - more about that later)in the skate and put the ankle strap on snugly. Then you take the skate key to the side of the skate, up near the front, and tighten the clamps to the soles of the shoe. Then repeat the procedure with the other foot.

Now you are ready to skate on any sidewalk or street that is paved or concrete. They don’t work too well on dirt roads, though some of those hard, red clay roads in the summertime could be skated on, but the rocks makes it a little dicey.

There were three things that were staples for boys at Christmas, a cap gun set of your favorite cowboy, a bicycle and a pair of roller skates. Girls got the bikes with the lowered down cross bars so we couldn’t see their panties when they go off the bikes, their favorite doll, a kitchen set and roller skates. On Christmas morning, if the temperature was above 20 degrees, there were kids skating on the roads like ants on sugar cubes.

The problem was, the clips on the toes of your shoes would rip the soul from the shoes if you hit a bump or sidewalk or someone’s head or stuff, and that would make our moms as happy as a lobster in boiling water - only hotter. My mom would raise holy hell because the shoes were only a month old. Didn’t matter that I was growing out of them anyway. So she did what any frugal mom would do, she got an older pair of shoes and cut the toes out of them. Since the older shoes were smaller, the skate had to be adjusted to fit the smaller size. So I had to skate with my toes hanging over the edge of the skates.

That was difficult to do so I would take the shoes off and tap my bare feet to the skates. I would cut out a piece of cardboard and put it between my feet and the skate and off I would go. Of course the souls of my feet were hard enough to scratch a match on. My dad did it several times to show his friends.

Why were they so hard? From the time school was out for the summer, the only time I wore shoes was to go to church or go down town with mom to pay bills - or to skate. Also, I was raised on a major thoroughfare two lane road. I skated and rode my bike on that road with cars and trucks going by two feet away. And there was no such thing as a helmet. And we never lost a kid in my school to head injuries. But the most fun things was to grab a bumper and ride the bike or skates like the wind. Skates only on the slower cars when the traffic was heave.

So, do you let your kids do things like that?

Skipping School

 
I sent this as a comment to one of my blog peeps (Blueeyedtawni) in response to her post about some parents accidentally catching their kids skipping school.

I’m not proud of this – well not totally – but back when I was single, and at my lowest point in life, I was dating a married woman with three kids (2 boys and a bitch…uh…girl.)

She had left the husband and they were living with me. One day the boys skipped school. I worked the third shift back then so I was home, and mama was off, hiding from her hubby.

One day the boys skipped school and the school called. We went looking for them and found them on their bicycles. Every time I tried to walk up to them, they would ride off laughing. I did this four or five times. I finally said fuck it.

I went back to my truck, got my gun and went walking back to where they had stopped and were waiting on me. The mom was scramming for me not to shoot them. Mom’s do that ya know. They don’t dole out discipline but they freak when you try to shoot their kids.

When I got close I told them not of move and showed them the gun. They laughed and said fuck you and took off.

I fired two shots that hit beside their bikes. They both fell off the bikes and was pleading for me not to shoot them. I wanted to, I really, really wanted to, but I didn’t.

I made them load the bikes in the back of the truck and took them home. I got the bikes and a sledge hammer, beat the wheels into squares, and took the chains and locked them in my glove compartment.

I told them to never cut class again and to never, ever run from me. I told them I would not beat them as their dad did, and I would talk straight with them. They didn’t skip again!

But me and mom started having problems because, when it came down to it, she was a sleazy whore. Now don’t get me wrong. I like a little sleazy whore sometimes. But she was the real thing. She went back to her husband. She was just using me to make him jealous.

Epilog! About three years later her daughter was kill by a drink driver who ran up on the sidewalk. Now her oldest son is in jail and the other boy is a druggy.

She did me a favor by going back to the low life scumbag drunk. I move on and up, got a better life and never looked back - ‘till Blueeyedtwani reminded me of that time in my life.

When

 
Being in what some people call the Autumn of ones life (I think it is more like deep December, really) I have been wonder about things that happened in my life. One of the things that has me stumped is ‘When…’

When did I stop playing on the front porch and start playing in the backyard? Was it a specific day; gradually, one step in and out or just walked out and played? My next-door neighbor had chickens in the back yard. Was that what pulled me off the porch?

When did I stop running and started to walk? I use to walk out the door (no running it the house) and within three steps would be running full speed down the road. When did I stop? Was it a gradual thing or did it happen overnight. When I turned 13 and was too cool to run? I don’t know.

When did I stop riding my bicycle? My most favorite Charismas present of all time was my bicycle. I was eight years old and the bike was a 26 inch monster that, when I stopped and had to put my foot on the ground, my right knee was up next to my ear. Did I just lay it down one day and not pick it up again? Why?

When did it become too dangerous to ride my bike in the road? I was raised on Bolton Road in NW Atlanta - before I-75, I-20, I-285 and any road with more than two lanes. Bolton road was a major artery to I-41 (now just a highway with malls and Wal-Mart’s and Home Depot’s lining the road. But back then Bolton Road was a very busy truck route and I walked and ran up and down the road, rode my bike in and out of the traffic daily - and get this, without a helmet. Cars would pass us at 35 mph and be within three feet of us. No one ever got hit by a car. Now kids aren’t allowed out of the cul-de-sac. When did it change? I never knew anyone who had head injuries from falling off a bike. We knew how to step off the bike if it went down. I did hear of broken arms and legs from falling off bikes, running into trees, bushes or street signs, but no head injures. But I also heard of broken arms and stuff from falling out of trees and playing sports and stuff, too. I liked my bike riding era better than today’s riders.

When did I first notice girls were different and not a play buddy? I remember playing Roy Rogers and Dale Evans (I was Roy, by the way) with my neighbor three houses up, Susie Cowart. I remember having these strange feels and wanted to see her naked. So under the house we went and examined each others parts. Didn’t know exactly what to do, but I knew I liked it. She was 5 and I was 6. We tried this several time…till we got caught. We didn’t get to play much after that. But that was just her. I didn’t wonder about other girls till much later. But did I wake up one Tuesday morning and think, damn girls are nice? Wonder what’s up that dress? And why am I hard in the mornings when I wake up…and sticky? What was that dream about???

When did it not be accepted and cool to take a girl on a date riding the streetcar (that was before we had busses)? You had to have a car. I remember taking the bus to the Rec Center in Grove Park (about 10 miles away) but not be able to really get serious with a girl because I didn’t have a car to take her to outside? Before, because of WWII and then Korea, teens dated by using the streetcar, trolley and busses, (depending on what part of town you lived.) But one day it wasn’t cool to ask someone out and meet her at the bus stop anymore. Was it a Friday, or a September… When?

When did I realize I wasn’t afraid of girls? Like many boys before me, when I was at the movies and I had a date or just met some friends at the Saturday matinee, I would pretend to stretch and let my arm come down around her shoulder? The look on their faces let you know you were a dork. So then I just did it. When did I get so brave….11:00 on a Saturday morning? And when did I learn that, with your arm around their shoulder you hand was in the perfect position to feel her boob? Soar ribs from the elbow, but, damn they felt good.

That was just the beginnings of life. There are plenty of ‘When’s' in my adult life, too, such as when did it not become important for me to be in front of every fucker on the road - had to pass everyone. When did it become less important that I always had to be right (or that I am still right, just not worth arguing about it?) When did it happen that no one listens to me or care what I have to say? And more recently, when did I realize that I am old and useless and lonely and stuff?

You ever wonder ‘When’? No! Okay, I guess I am still a dork.