A skateboarder was in the middle of the road when I turned the corner, spinning himself in rapid circles (technical term anyone?) like a figure skater. When his momentum would lag, he’d stop, quick rotate by jerking his body sideways and begin spinning again, the board at forty-five degrees, all his weight on it’s back edge like he was about to take off. I paused, pulled back on my dog’s lead, hoping the boarder wouldn’t see me so I could keep watching. Of course he saw me-people always see each other-so I switched my dog to my other side and kept walking. But, to my delight, he didn’t stop, didn’t wait for me to pass. Instead, he switched to Ollies, popping his board into the air, creating the effect that it was glued to his feet, bending to his every whim. He’d land, then rip another. For all the concern he showed, he might have been alone in an empty gymnasium. Kids are amazing, I thought, they don’t care who sees. It was at this point, though, that I noticed the paunchy middle pushing through his sweatshirt, the sad saggy bend to his aged neck. The casual creases around his eyes. The beard flecked with gray. I’m not kidding you, the guy was sixty five years old, easy, maybe older, and he was out there grinding with sheer, unapologetic bliss like a teenager killing time before his mom calls him in to dinner.
I did some searches and found a nice clip of this guy in California named Lloyd Khan. Be forewarned, though, his attitude (and his biceps) will make you feel old, regardless of your age.