winter stupidity

today i got the idea in my head that i would be able to skate under the BQE.  i imagined that the snow would have stayed clear of the ground below the overpass, and although every street and sidewalk was either stacked waist-high with snow or soaking wet from melting snow, it would be fine there.  so i padded up and trudged there through the slush; jake came along because to laugh at my expense.  well, we got there, and it was full of snow and water, and packed with cars sheltered there from the weather.  i skated a 5-foot long patch of dry ground for a few minutes, which jake filmed, laughing, before going home.

on the way back to the apartment, i found a 15-foot long stretch of dry, dark, cracked sidewalk.  success!  i've been bumming on skating lately, but tonight i remembered why we all love this fucking wooden toy so much--  i skated flatground, one-push room, for more than an hour, going back and forth non-stop.

you know what bugs me?  that there are public, indoor skateparks in florida and california.  and here--jack shit.

to commemorate bobby puleo's recent uncomfortable-to-read interview, here's a glance at the good old days.