Not Much

Not much happened today. Stayed home from school. There was no way I could have walked, much less worked. I stayed in bed. I napped. Tried to read and watched six episodes of Bojack Horseman. I have been in pretty bad pain all day. Felt a bit nauseous with heartburn.


Not sure what the next few weeks are going to look like and this is kind of freaking me out. Poor Mairin has been doing so much on her own. This was meant to be the weekend when we just chilled-out and rested and now it’s another weekend that she will be on her own.


My ankle starts bleeding if I get up and move about too much, and it hurts pretty much all the time. The pills don’t see to be doing much.


I’m in bed watching a movie with the girls and ready to just fall asleep again.

Pain and Grattitude

There is nothing like pain to teach us valuable lessons. Whether that pain is emotional, spiritual or physical, pain-if nothing else, teaches us gratitude.


I am back home after a 24 hour hospital stay that included a two hour surgery to mend my bones. Here are some random thoughts lessons I learned while I sat in my hospital bed all day:


Nursing is a wonderful profession. It must be so satisfying to bring people such comfort. All day today, a batch of nurses helped me stay comfortable, cleaned my bandages and made me feel cared for.


It’s amazing the trust we put into the hands of doctors. Right before I went under, I was thinking about the fact that I knew nothing about the guy who told that he needs to cut open my ankle and add a plate and some screws. Then knowing little about him or the procedure I said sure. I have no idea really what he did and whether or not it was the best thing. I knew that my bones were broken, because they hurt like hell and he was going to fix it. Made me think about the level of trust parents put in our hands as teachers. They don’t know us, for the most part, and they trust that we know what we are doing to teach there kids. It’s an honor to have this trust and I do not take it likely.


Would anyone be surprised if the Trump presidency actually became a reality show? Like his cabinet picks are being chosen for their on-air personalities. “Bring in the rich lady with no experience in education to run the entire department. It will be funny to see what she does. If it doesn’t work out, I can use my catch line in week 15- You’re Fired!”


The rest is a bit blurry. This was a great post, around 4pm when was drafting it in my head, but now nearing ten, not so much.

Rewarding With Pain

It was around six pm. The sun was low in the sky and the concrete was a glow in golden light. The park was not too crowded and I felt confident. I had just rolled into some ramps that had scared me before and was feeling the flow. It as the first time in weeks that I felt awake. Alert. Alive.


I had promised myself to push myself a bit during this session, and take a few bigger risks. After a small fall, I was exhilarated by the feeling of my flesh hitting the concrete. My shoulder stung a little, but I was pushed forward by a sense of invincibility. The wheels buzzing. My knees bent. The balance achieved.


I had been skating for forty-five minutes and was getting tired. I had a good day and it was time to drink some water and call it a day. Kaia was doing some ramp work with her teacher and was a bit low on energy. Her Wednesdays are crazy. He was spotting her, but her heart wasn’t in it. She barely bent her knees and you could tell she was nervous. It wasn’t a good day for her.


I had watched her drop into a ramp from the rail for a few sessions and emboldened by my success, I wanted to inspire her a bit.


“Listen Kaia, we are almost done. If you put 100% into this one and really bend your knees and lean forward and get into it, I will give this ramp a try.”


I am not sure why I thought this was a good idea or why no one tried to stop me, but next thing you know I was up the ramp. it wasn't big, but I had never done anything like it before. I had just learned a roll in a few minutes before.


“What could go wrong? You have all the pads on.” Shawn said casual.


My first run I leaned back a little and caught myself on my elbows. It wasn’t as hard as it looked and I knew with an adjustment I could do it. I was back on the ramp. Then I was down. I didn’t feel myself leaning back, but the video clearly shows that I did not bend my knees or lean forward.


My ankle went under and I knew that something was wrong. The pain was sudden and intense like a wave or a hammer on an anvil. I saw white as I took off my helmet and tried to catch my breath.


Kaia looked scared and I tried to calm her down, but I was pretty shocked myself. I saw my ankle and it looked twisted. Kaia’s teacher was saying it looked bad and Shawn’s face was not reassuring.


Long story short- They pushed me to the car, one foot on a board. Marin drove me to the hospital and a bone in my ankle area is fractured and has moved back into place. Pretty bad.


I’m currently in the hospital and will have surgery in the morning to add a plate and screws to move the bone back in place. The doctor is optimistic about recovering time. I will wait and see. I hope this doesn’t mean we have to cancel Thailand. We all really needed that break.


I may have to spend the night here tomorrow night just in case. Will see after surgery.


A few lessons learned here:

1. I am not nineteen. This lesson seems to be hard for me to really learn. 
2. End on a high note. When you have success, just soak in it for a while, no need to push yourself until you fail, or break your bones.
3. Skateboarding is dangerous and fun and exciting and should never be underestimated. People make it look easy, but when you are starting it is not. 
4. Sometimes taking risks is rewarding. 
5. Sometimes taking risks ends with pain. 

I’m in a hospital room alone and it is time for sleep. What a strange way to end my three week run.

Terror and Wonder

A Day In Four Acts


Act I


Swallowed my doubt and anxiety and took Tricia's advice to just think of my meetings like the many workshops I have led, and to see my team like the many teachers I have taught throughout the years in various roles.


I headed into school and got to thinking and planning and building a meeting. Not sure if I will get to everything or if I am making too big a deal about this, but I want to try and make at least a few of my meetings like workshops and experiences. There is nothing more precious to a teacher than time, so if we are going to decide to meet then that time should be spent feeling something, learning something or making some sound and necessary decisions.


I have sat through my share of uninspired meetings, and while I know that you cannot please everyone, or that not every meeting should be life-changing, it is important to try different things that will make the participants feel valued and appreciated. You want people to look forward to your meetings, so that even when they are feeling frantic or tired, they still come energized and ready to work and move toward whatever goal you had set at the start.


I’m still not sure how this will all go, but I am pretty excited to be trying it and learning from my mistakes. After four years at UWCSEA it is time for me to shake things up and I am feeling pretty great about the next few days, weeks, and the year as a whole.


Act II


I got some terrible news about someone I love who is in a lot of pain and suffering greatly. This is not my story to tell, so I will not share many details. But it was hard to hear the news, because it reminded me how powerless we are to help the people we love when they are in pain. The next few days will be touch and go and this news will weigh heavy on everything I do, but it has reminded me how important it is not to sweat the small stuff.


When all is said and done, so many of our trivial worries and issues are meaningless. When you look at life as a whole, and really ponder things like our purpose here, the meaning of our lives, the relationships that we build and the love that we share, nothing else should matter.


Today was a dark one as my mind flickered back and forth from the reality of my job and the work I love to do and the thoughts of this person.


I don't know how to feel.


Act III


After I got home from work and settled in a bit, Mairin asked if I could go to the store and grab a few things we had forgotten. Seeing that I am sick of driving and have done little exercise all summer, I decided to take my skateboard. I strapped on the headphones and made my way along the sidewalks.


Seeing that I was feeling a bit down all day, I thought about the music that makes me feel young and alive and the first band that came to mind was Jane’s Addiction. I hit play on Three Days and cruised to the store. Careful not to crash or hit a curb, I am still not a competent skater, I am feeling more comfortable on the board. Bend your knees. Lean forward. That’s it. Relax.


Act IV


Nothing. Numb. Watched some TV with the girls while Mairin unpacked and made dinner. I felt guilty again for not helping out, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. I must make an effort to insist on doing more of my share around the house.


I am in Skye’s room waiting for her to sleep and the night is quiet and young. I have little imagination for its possibilities. Perhaps some reading, a beer, TV and a yearning back to the dream I had last night- a bizarre Fellini inspired wonderland that had me terrified and laughing at every turn.


It’s hard to believe that we are all filled with such terror and wonder. We put on the cloths, brush the teeth, comb the hair, become the professionals, do the jobs, maintain society, but inside? Inside, there is so much more.


All of us with wings.
All of us with wings.
All of us with wings…

Skating Into Summer

We had an early Sunday morning skating lesson for Kaia today. We were both at the park by 8:30 while Mairin and Skye went grocery shopping. The sun was not yet too hot and the place was nearly empty. My wrist is still not feeling so good, but I had brought my stuff, just in case the conditions were good and this morning they were perfect.


I strapped on the pads, swore to take it easy and tested out my new bushings. My trucks are still a bit loose, so I feel a bit wobbly going down the longer ramps, but I couldn’t seem to get them right today, so I was extra careful.


I was able to skate in a part of the park that is usually too crowded to skate and it was awesome. Nice and slow, down some tame slopes and up others that were a bit more steep. I was able to start at one end of the park and hit three or four slopes as I weaved my way through the park. Nothing too steep or too fast, just gentle cruising. Knees bent. Leaning forward and careful not to lose focus and crash. Just made me realize how much I love learning new things. I want to try and plan one night a week next year to go to the park around 9pm and skate under the lights. Feeling blessed that we have this park minutes from my house.


Despite the early start, the sun in Singapore gets hot fast and by nine it was a scorcher; I was a sweaty mess. It was a this point that a kid who was about ten years old, with a shaved head, a puff of bleached blond hair, on a scooter comes up to me and asks, “Are you Mr. Raisdana?” To which I answered in the affirmative. “Cool. I am a fifth grader at UWCSEA and I will be in six grade next year.”


He seemed stoked, but was keeping it cool- not showing that he was overtly excited to see his head of grade skating at the park on a Sunday morning, but we both knew something important had just happened. I got his name and I now I know at least one kid coming into grade six who I won’t have to work too hard to gain respect from.


The rest of the day was pretty chill. Mairin was at a ladies brunch, so the girls and I swam a bit, went out for ice cream, played lego, read some books, I sang and played guitar for a while, and we enjoyed a Sunday with little ambition or expectations.


All my grades are done and in the computer. I am thinking of watching the Will Smith Ali movie before bed.


…


Another shooting. This time in Orlando at a gay bar. It already screams major tragedy and totally horrific. Regardless of who the monster was that carried out this rampage, it is yet another stain on our collective human consciousness. I feel like I need to poke and prod at the scabs to make sure I never become numb to the violence we perpetuate in our society.


…


I have a post or two brewing that are more developed than these daily updates. I hope to get to them this week. In other news, it has been a long time since I ran. I am milking the need to rest after a race excuse for as long as I can, but I need to get back out there this week.


This will be an interesting week, seeing that it is the last official full week of school before summer. There is still a lot that needs to be done, like moving my classroom for next year, but most of the things from here on out will be about change and I am pretty excited about the possibilities.


The couch, dark chocolate with sea salt, and a Sunday night movie are calling. Be kind to each other people, it’s a cruel world out there.

Peaceful Hum

Today was uneventful but nice and necessary. Didn’t really see anyone or do anything. Had a quick chat with Lee and Cindy at East Coast Park, but the rest of the day was spent hiding from a lingering storm in the semi-darkness at home.


Started the morning with a bike ride for the kids to Starbucks and a skate for me. Took the ole' board out for a cruise and it felt pretty good. My wrist still hurts pretty bad, and I am pretty sure there is something wrong, but I was super careful to just take it easy. The rest of the family biked at a variety of changing speeds while I pumped and kicked and carved and swerved and made my way to our destination. There was a bit more to it than that- zen-like calm, watching the waves and the clouds, the sound of the wheels, the perfect balance between threat of crashing and a peaceful hum, but those thoughts and the words that represent them will be written at a later time.


After lunch at home, we took the girls to basketball and then back home to watch The Lord of the Rings. While the girls had a million questions, and the Orcs might have been a bit too scary, and it might have been too long, they both seemed to be invested in the story. Not sure when or if they will be ready for the second installment, but I hope soon. They are both intrigued by Golem and curious to watch his story.


After the movie it was time for dinner, kids in bed, a bottle or Prosecco and some backlogged episodes of Veep.


That’s it. That’s all. A day of routines and rest. Off to an early weekend bedtime and leaving tomorrow wide open depending on the weather.

I Have Become Fragile

I spent the majority of this lovely Sunday in a considerable amount of pain. I don’t mean the low-grade constant aching kind either, I had sharp shooting pain in my both my wrists, occasional spasms in my lower back, and the tendon or muscle or whatever it is that attaches my right wrist to the elbow was pretty painful too, not to mention the muscle just behind the elbow bone, we think it is called the tricep, but really what do we know.

The elbow pain was the most constant, especially when I opened drawers, started the car or even got off the couch- where coincidentally I spent a lot of time on today, inspite of Mairin's occasional glares and eye rolls. I tried to be useful and productive, but I felt like a marionette who had been split apart and haphazardly put back together- every joint tender and slightly askew.

What may you ask caused this level of discomfort? The answer to this question is the most painful aspect of this story. My body is quickly becoming older than my mind.

I spent so much of my youth taking my body for granted, and now that I am well into my fortieth decade, now that my mind and spirit are wise and nimble and eager for life, now that I am starting to understand and appreciate my own mortality, now that I might be thinking about the early stages of onset middle-life crisis, my body has chosen to become not the temple I was promised, but more like a geriatric ward of some decrepit and ignored hospital.

I have become fragile.

I went skating with Kaia this morning and while she was having her lesson, I was swimming in my own sweat in the bowl practicing pumping and carving up the low-grade sides of the pool. I was super careful not to push myself too hard or ride too fast or go too high. I skated like a timid old man who was afraid of getting hurt. Lots of slow repetitive up, turn and back down the ramp. Nothing fancy. Nothing reckless. Nothing stupid.

But even when you are skating like this you fall. I tumbled a few times. Nothing major. I had a helmet, elbow and knee pads and I landed on them each time I fell, which wasn’t too often and I was never going too fast. I don’t even remember a specific fall that could have caused the pain I am still feeling as I type these words twelve hours later.

I am hoping that my some miracle I wake up tomorrow and a night’s rest will have cured all my aches. That somehow in the night a better puppet master will put me back together properly, but the reality is that my body will only be getting worse and more frail and enfeebled. Now, that I am finally ready to use it to run half-marathons and do body pump and skate in a bowl, I have to be worried that the slightest mistake can cause serious injury.

All this talk of degradation has got me down. I know I am still young and I have time, but it’s a stark wake-up call to realize that forty years have passed and the time you have got left is less than time you have already had. You are on a downward slope. You have reached peak life. The realization that your life may have reached climax and your story is on the falling actin side of the plot line is a sobering fact.

I just hope the pain goes away by Wednesday because I want to get back to the park and practice my moves. I actually felt pretty good out there today.

…

The rest of the day, as I mentioned above, was pretty chill. We went for a swim. The girls did some baking. I read on the couch, fell in and out of a few naps and got take-away sushi for dinner. There were a few times when I thought that I should try and sneak in a few mentor comments, but then I convinced myself that it was Sunday, my day of rest and that I shouldn’t feel guilty for resting. Even now, as I type this and wait for Skye to fall asleep, I am in intense negotiation with myself to try and write at least three, two, one comment to give me a jump on the week, but did I mentioned the pain? Wouldn’t it make more sense to just crawl into bed and read some more? Early bed time? Ready for the week? Give my bones time to heal?

It will be a game time call whether or not I write a few or not. As of now, it is too close to make the call.

…

“Daddy, why are they called The X-Men? I mean shouldn’t they be called The X-People? There are lots of mutants that are girls or women. It just doesn’t make sense to call them all X-Men. And why do most of the women always have such big boobs? Why can’t they just be regular?” Kaia.

Looks like someone is already exploring sexist comic book tropes. I wonder if I should start preparing her for the abuse she will face if she ever makes these thoughts public, or just let her question and think without the glaring abuse of sad pathetic Internet trolls.

…

I didn’t say anything about Mohammad Ali yesterday, but he has been on my mind. What can I say that millions of people armed with his quotes and their memes won’t say in the coming weeks?

I was not a super fan, but I knew enough to know that he was one of the bravest revolutionaries this country has ever know. I saw the films and read the books and articles and pumped my fists at his quotes and quips and assaults on the hypocrisy of the American empire. He was not only a boxing champion, but a true champion of the people. There has never been and there will never be another person like Mohammad Ali.

I am sure he was and will be many thing for many people, but I hope in our enthusiasm to celebrate his life, we do not white-wash his brash, in-your-face, activist spirit. Kind of sad to think that while so many people in the media are celebrating his life, if he were a young, black, outspoken athlete in today’s Trump America, he would be just as hated if not more so than he was in the sixties.

Anyway…celebrate his life and his ideals. Post pictures of his victories, because he was so pretty, but do not forget that his biggest match was against the imperial systematic racist side of America, and this is a match that is still being fought by African-Americans today.

For you Ari. I know how deeply you loved him.

…

I jammed a lot in this one. Give it more than a like. Engage, leave a comment. Connect.

Balance

It must have been a bit past 2am. A slivered cream-colored moon hung low in the sky, shedding shards of reflections into the sea to my left. I was running on the Marina Bay Barrage and the Singapore skyline replete with the Marina Bay Sands hotel and The Singapore Flyer were to my right. I had come through the worst of it. The long haul through the golf course, grinding out kilometers 12, 13, and 14. I had fallen behind the pacers a while ago, and as a result I had lost a bit of momentum. But just minutes before I had eaten a banana and doused myself with water and was determined to run from kilometer eighteen on till the end.


The conversation with myself was quiet at this point. I was tired of yelling at myself or trying to negotiate a pace. I simply shut the brain down accept for my eyes, which were looking at the moon beams and my ears listening to make sure I could hear each thump of every step. My heart and lungs were working fine. My mind was finally quiet. The only problem was that I wasn’t sure my legs could make it. My muscles were stiff and the joints tender. The pain shifted from my knees to my ankles to my hips and back again and again. At times everything hurt at once, while at other times everything from my lower back down was numb. Is this where the joy is?


What are you doing out here? My mind was awake again. Just stop. Who cares? Why are you running in the darkness, in the middle of the night? What are you trying to prove? And to who?


The last hour had felt like torture at times. Very little of it was fun or even enjoyable. But something inside me refused to stop. There is no one thing I am trying to prove, and the only person who cares beyond your potential supportive “Likes” on Facebook is myself.


It’s funny. At first I just wanted to see if I could do it. But after a while, when the pace felt good around 15km, I felt like I couldn’t just stop or even slow down. Yes, I walked and ran on and off, but I knew that I was going to come in around, or even under, two and a half hours.


There were so many thoughts and images rumbling in my mind throughout the night, but I am too tried to document and you must be tired of me, so I will spare you the details.


It was a good night and I am happy with the results. While I was in the middle of it, I swore I would never do this to my body again, but I am already getting fired up for the next one.


…


I’m sorry for being so self-promoting these days. It is not my intention to be the guy who is always talking about himself. But I have had a pretty good week, and well….when you choose to write an extended post every night, sometimes they can become pretty self-serving. I really do appreciate the reactions and the likes and support from everyone out there. it means a lot to know you are reading, sharing, commenting and liking the things I put out there.


...


Today was a mellow day.


My body ached and the lack of sleep made me feel pretty hungover. We had a nice lunch at Jamie’s Italian and took the kids to see The Angry Birds movie. What I saw of it was was terrible. Lot’s of yelling and screaming and things blowing up. I had no expectation that it would be good, but honestly the idea of a cool dark room today was just what the doctored ordered. Marin suggested that next time we just take $12, crumple it up and throw it in the garbage, but I digress. I slept through about 75% of it.


After the movie we headed to Longboard Love near Vivo City and I bought my new skateboard, pads and helmet. I got a Rivera board. It’s a hybrid long board and regular skateboard for learning to skate the pools at the skatepark, but it still has big wheels and a wide board for cruising East Coast Park. Kaia and I headed to the park straight when we got home and had a great preliminary session.


Skateboarding is a very physical activity. And after last night, my legs were feeling the pumps as I tried to do some pool work. Chris was there as usual and he gave me some pointers, as did Kaia of course.


...


There is something very humbling, terrifying and exciting about learning something new. Especially when this new activity can be quite dangerous. There is so much I want to know how to do right now, but my middle-aged man mind is not ready to take those risks and break any bones. So I am taking it nice and easy.


As if I didn’t have enough things taking up my time, here is something new. I can’t wait to get back on the board already. I’m hooked.


Which brings me to my final thought- we are all always complaining about how busy we are and how hard we work and how our jobs are taking over our lives, but I am realizing that if we value our hobbies, and if we keep them new and fresh and varied that we will end up spending our time living our lives more fully.


Yes, it is true when your job is something you love and you do it with passion and energy, it can feel all-consuming, but balancing it with marathons and skateboards, playing live music and writing. Hikes and travel and books. Time with friends- bowling, drone-battling, movie watching, Frofling and more…a balanced life cannot simply be empty time when you are not working. You must fill it with other things that demand as much energy and love as your work.


We build balanced lives, not by taking work away, but by adding other activities to balance it out.


What are some things you do to help you find balance?

Skating Beats Homework

Time is both shrinking and expanding at the same time. It feels like the days are flying by one minute, and the next it feels like time has stood still.


"What? There are only four weeks left of school."
"Are you kidding me? There are still four weeks of school left?"


Teaching in May is schizophrenic. There’s still a lot to do, like I should be working on mentor comments as we speak, but the need to look into the near future, which include summer plans, make procrastination so much more appealing. Maybe this year those mentor comments will write themselves.

The days, in the classroom, teaching the kids, going through the lessons seem to fly by. It is the spaces in between- you know the life you are living when you are not working that seems to take forever.

...

Kaia’s skateboarding class will be cancelled this Sunday so we arranged to do it tonight, a midweek treat, instead. And it was great. She had finished all her homework, so we came home, she chatted with some friends on the computer, read for a tiny bit and we were off to the skatepark for her lesson. The air was cool. The park nearly empty. We all spent time cruising the curves. Kaia on her board with her teacher. Skye on her scooter. And me itching to get started fiddled with a penny board. I was wearing flip flops and no helmet or pads, so needless to say I was terrified and cautious, but man was it fun. So much harder than I thought. Skating is a physical activity that takes a lot of courage and balance. It’s amazing how much more of both of those kids my kids have than me.


After only three lessons, Kaia is already pumping and dropping into tiny slopes and Skye took a few big ramps on her scooter like a ….well whatever animal cruises on cement inclines.


I just want to reiterate how much more meaningful this evening was for our family, and how much more was learned at the skatepark, than if we had stayed at home and lumbered our way through spelling words and a math sheet.

…

All learning starts the moment you overcome fear. Fear comes in many forms and degrees, but I think the role of a good teacher is to help a learner gauge the impact or damage that excessive risk can have on a person and teach them how to get to the edge of their fear and overcome it.


So much of the damage we do to ourselves and others is caused by our inability to overcome fear. We become trapped by it and unable to grow or evolve. We dwell on doubt and guilt and shame, and we lash out with jealousy, revenge or spite. But really, we need to take inventory of our fears and learn how to push the boundaries until we feel safe and capable.


These are some of the things I was thinking about while I was trying not to break my wrist or my back on the tiny skateboard tonight. Or as I psyche myself up for my guitar performance on the 3rd of June. Through my big mouth I turned our tiny gig into Gareth’s going away party and that means a much large crowd of colleagues than I had plan. This terrifies me to know end, but overcoming this fear is a step to learning how to be a better singer/performer. I know this, but it doesn’t make it easier.


The closer we get to the end of the year, the more afraid I become of failing at my new job next year. What if I can’t keep up? What if I am not organized enough? What if people don’t respect me and I don’t know how to lead? The fear is real, but I know that overcoming this doubt is how I will become a better leader and hopefully a better teacher. All learning starts the moment you overcome fear.


Maybe the true learners seek out things to be afraid of, risks to face, challenges and obstacles that need overcoming.


What are you afraid of? What fears have you overcome that have been great learning experiences?

Skate Or Die

Skateboarding was kind of a big deal in the late 1980’s in San Rafael CA. And as a seventh grader at Davidson Middle School, it quickly became apparent that my failed attempt at assimilation by wearing tan leather Sperry top-siders, would only be rectified if I did the following: Started wearing Jimmy’z shorts, $30+ Gotcha T-shirts, and Vans. It was also clear that I need a board. Trouble was I knew nothing about boards, so my foray into the world of skaters was a blind and pathetic one.

Even after I talked my parents into shelling out more money than they wanted or could afford for the shorts and the shirts, I was able to use a birthday to get my own $150 board, which at the time for us was a massive expenditure. I don’t remember the brand, and I just spent twenty minutes trying to find it online. Even though I thought the yellow color and the jester graphics, and yes the matching plastic side rails, were super cool, I realized quickly that it was not. I had somehow in my haste bought the wrong board. It was heavy and wide and apparently the trucks were lame and the wheels too _______. On the rare chance that I was even able to show my board to anyone that mattered, it became clear that I was what in the parlance of those times was called a poser. A wanna-be.

Yup. I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be good at something that people considered cool. I wanted to be accepted. I wanted to shred.

But I never did. I never was. I only wanted to be, until I out grew the clothes and left the board to rot in some corner of my room, with the echo of my mom’s voice everytime she saw it or when I asked for another expensive object, “Remember that skateboard. You only rode that thing once.” Which of course was not true, but she was right in that I never mastered it. Not even close. I rarely took it out. Because riding a skateboard by yourself on the sidewalk is no way to become a skater. I had no access to ramps or other skaters and their culture. I wasn't hungry. I didn't read Thrasher. For me it was about a false identity not for the love of a sport. I was a poser and didn’t know how to be anything else.

These were my thoughts this morning as I sat at the skatepark near our house watching Kaia at her first lesson. It never occurred to seventh grade me or my parents apparently, that just having the stuff did not make me skater. I needed access. I needed ramps. I needed a teacher or at least a chance to watch and practice and learn. This morning I was watching people of all ages doing ali’s and rail slides and dipping in and out of ramps. I felt the camaraderie that I yearned for. People of all ages, sweating in the sun, some helmeted and geared up, while other risked their bones going shirtless. Pockets of small posses chatted each other up, while others skated in silence- the only sound- the wheels like ocean waves carving up the cement inclines.

This space. This culture is what seventh grade me needed. I am sure there were parks and ramps in San Rafael, but I had no idea where they were and I wasn’t connected enough to sniff them out. I didn’t really want to be a skater. I just wanted to be. And that is why I never found the ramps to soak up the culture. I know that now, and part of me feels like it might be too late, but the other wiser part thinks screw it- it is not to late. I am not too old. I don’t need all the stuff. I am not looking to fit into any group, but as a forty-two year old, I want to learn the basics.

I don’t need to shred or doing anything dangerous, but I could gently skate the mellow ramps. I could learn some basic starter moves. I could be out there every weekend with Kaia chatting up the other old dudes who seem so calm and gentle and mellow and zen. Me, the scrawny, tanned, white-bearded old dude might finally be a skater. I wonder if we are finally able to become our true teen-age selves at forty two.

So I am on the hunt for a board. Doesn’t need to be cool, but it has to be the right board for me. I was chatting Chris up today at the park (He is a regular and although he doesn't know it my future mentor and skating teacher) and it is clear I need something between a ramp and a long board, a hybrid- with loose trucks and big soft wheels. I want to be able to cruise East Coast park and ride the ramps on the weekend with Kaia. If anyone out there has any suggestions please let me know. Also if you know the skate board I mentioned earlier- Yellow with a blue jester please let me know. Skate or die dude. Skate or die.

…

I have to be at school tomorrow at five-thirty. I am off to Tioman island off the coast of Malaysia for a week. As the head of grade six in waiting, it was decided that it might be a good idea for me to go on this trip and scope things out, so I have first hand experience when I need to organise the trip and comfort worried parents next year. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it; I am just glad that person is me. I am looking forward to a few runs on the beach. Some time in the ocean and getting familiar with hanging out with six graders again, It has been a while and I am excited to reacquaint myself with that age group, before I do it full time next year.

Apparently there is wifi in my cabin, so I look forward to continuing to write every night while I am away.

A Series of Ruts

I took Kaia out on the skateboard again today. We were properly padded up this time to encourage slightly more aggressive skating and to avoid injury. Which is a good thing because she took a pretty hard fall. The board slipped out from under her and she went full horizontal and landed on her elbow and hip. It had to hurt. She cried. I hugged. We sat and waited away the pain. And then, just like that we were back at it.


She is getting much better. She’s still a bit stiff and unbalanced, but she is getting the hang of it slowly. We need a good smooth place with a slight incline. The tunnel was okay, but not the best. Looking forward to getting her back out again soon. The time has come for my long board purchase. I will be a bit more aggressive about buying my board so the two of us can cruise East Coast Park together soon.

…

Ran tonight. A healthy and comfortable 8km. It is all coming back to me. Felt mentally okay and the legs and lungs felt good. I am looking at signing up for another 10km at the end of May and maybe the half-marathon in Cambodia in December. Gonna push my distances in the coming weeks no matter what. My accidental break is over. Time to get back into the routine.

…

I’ve been in a s series ruts since the April break. I think I have been so looking forward to the summer that I have not really been living in the now. Last night, I finally found out why. My reading life was comatose. I wasn’t reading anything. I realised that if I am not reading something fun, thought provoking, gut wrenching or just simply interesting than everything else in my life feels dull and uninspired.


I came to this epiphany last night in bed as I started Carrie Brownstein’s book called Hunger Makes Me A Modern Girl. For those of you who do not know who Carrie is- she is the singer and guitarist of the punk(ish) band Sleater Kinney and the writer and star of Portlandia. She has also appeared on shows like Transparent. And as if that wasn’t a resume enough, now she can add bad-ass writer to her CV. I am only 56 pages into it so far, but it has gotten me so fired up about life, art, music, being an obsessive fan and more. The prose is tight and her insights are powerful.


It doesn’t matter if you are a fan of her music or her acting or not, this book is for anyone who loves the idea of music and art as salvation. For people who believe in heros and fandom and the power of music to transcend any and all of life struggles and pain. This book is for anyone who has ever been obsessed with music to the point of it acting as your best friend, counselor or priest.


I am so excited because this book has finally kick started my reading life and I can feel the loosening of the other ruts that may have calcified since April.

…

Stumbled upin the hashtag #GiveElsaAGirlfriend. How cool would it be if Disney of all people could move beyond the heteronormative stories we tell children? I would love to have the conversation about Elsa’s girlfriend with both of my kids. I am not holding my breath that one of the largest corporations in the world will make this move, but I hope we are moving in that direction.

…

The three day weekend has come to an end and that is fine. It was well spent. Hung out with friends, with my kids, my students, in nature and at restaurants. Saw movies. Took naps. Ran. Drank. Wrote and Read. Now it is time for some Game of Thrones and a new week up ahead.


Bring it.

You’re Not As Young As You Think

From the “You’re Not As Young As You Think, You Are Actually Quite Old” vault:

Kaia and Skylar got two new two-wheeled scooters for Christmas and we have been taking them to the skatepark in East Coast Park, so they can gain confidence riding the ramps and learning to skate on slopes and jumps. They are both doing an amazing job.

Today, we also took Mairin’s new scooter and I decided to take it out on the ramps to “show the girls a thing or two.” I fluidly took a few of the gentler slopes and then I went on the steeper slope, yes the one Kaia has already mastered.

I didn’t put too much thought into it. No pads. No helmet. Just jump and go. Seemed to be working for Kaia.

I was at the bottom of the ramp, ready to enjoy my ride, when I realised that I was actually horizontal to the ground and within seconds flat on my back.

Wind knocked out.
Elbows scraped.
Internal organs shaken up.
Ego crushed.

Just like that, I was the idiot old man flat on his back as the young whippersnappers rode around me.
After I was able to breathe, which was longer than I would have liked, I dragged myself back to where Mairin was sitting. She was in a state of hysterical laughter and genuine concern.

Lessons learned:

• Fearlessness after forty can get you killed.
• Things that look easy and were easy when you were younger, now need your undivided attention and focus.
• When you are taking a two-wheeled scooter down a pretty steep ramp, you might want to be prepared for death.

Until next time.