Betrayal of the Banana Board

Get Yo' Ride On

Welp, here we go again.

Less than 24 hrs later, I find myself back here. Bloodshot and tired. Nothing more than "a desperate fool at the end of his pitiful rope" (extra points to whoever knows what movie that's from).

I was trying to think of something exciting to write about since, let's be honest, my whole prediction that life would take a turn for the epic has yet to be realized. While talking to my lovely sister Sarah, I was convinced to wax poetic about one of my finer moments in recent months... let's call it Longboard Disaster 2008. (And yes, the 2008 is necessary. It makes everything sound more epic).

Before describing this episode, I should like to provide a brief context, a.k.a my history with skateboards, in which the story can better be understood.

Growing up in the sprawling urban metropolis of Sherwood Park, Alberta, Canada, my connection with all things cool began at a young age. I have vivid memories of attempting to learn to ride a skateboard on the ol' family banana board. Now, for those of you who aren't familiar with this fine piece of engineering, let me break it down fo' ya. It's basically this:

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I know what you're thinking... Potassium-rich fruit? Polycarbon decks? What? How?

Well, let me tell you, it all comes together in a beautiful mash-up in the form of most beautiful extreme sports equipment. And the Meek family was fortunate to be the sole proprietors of one such gem in our little neighborhood. (Nevermind my parents probably acquired it at A) a garage sale, or B) from someone's curb on Garbage Day. We're talking pre-loved VINTAGE.)

Now, while it's quite something to behold - slick yellow plastic, clear amber wheels - let me be the first to say its steering mechanism left something to be desired. And by something, I mean the steering mechanism in its entirety was desired... There pretty much wasn't one.

This was a particularly cruel joke when you put a 7-year old who has scarcely acquired the ability to balance on solid ground let alone on something merely 6-inches in width. My siblings and I spent the early stages of "riding" (ok, we never got past the 'early stage') just trying to stay on the thing. Steering, had it been brought into the picture, would've been out of the question. Let me paint a little picture... Something of a childhood memory, if you will:

Perfect summer's afternoon, ideal weather for banana boarding (banana-ing? banoarding?). With the neighbourhood crew (a.k.a your little brother, and the gray cat that lives under the raspberry bushes in the backyard) loyally observing, you head outside and hop aboard. It's a tentative start down the driveway but so far so good. Down the slope. Still feelin' it. Easy. Pickin' up some speed. Eeeeasy... You hear the opening lines of the Chariots of Fire theme song playing in the distance. It's at this moment, at the very pinnacle of achievement in your young life, that a cruel trap in the form of a rusty '86 VW parked at the end of the driveway begins to come into focus. Directly following this observation, the idea avoiding the car crops up for the first time in your little head...

So you start to lean. A little tentative at first, then a little harder. Nothing happens... You're really leaning now. Doing your best high-speed-weight-shift. Still nothing... You're now throwing all 6o pounds of your spry young self desperately to one side of the stupid yellow board trying to avoid the inevitable... but it's like this board is dead-set on a literal crash course with disaster. And then it happens. Slam. Feet go out, skateboard FLINGS aross the cul-de-sac and up the neighbour's driveway... The relationship you spent many a summer day cultivating with the precious banana board just came to a painful end. You're now cultivating a new relationship, one characterized by band-aids and the growing of a new left knee.

Maybe this is a memory only I have, but I DARE you to try to tell me you don't know someone who has experienced something similar to this. I firmly believe it was because of this introduction to skateboarding that I was tainted for life. I've had this deep, abiding fear of it ever since but this past January I decided to throw caution to the wind and climb back aboard.

Big mistake.

I briefly had visions of cruising about town on a low rider (I don't even know what that means but I like the sound of it...) wind blowing through my hair, the familiar 'clackclack-clackclack-clackclack' sound of skateboard wheels ringing in my ears. This daydream culminated in my suavely jumping off my board outside the nearest Mac's where I'd stomp on the end, fling the board up into my hand and stroll inside for a cold refreshing Slurpee...

Reality check: I'm laying in the bushes on the side of some dark random street in east Mesa, wondering what the f just happened. (Here's where Longboard Disaster 2008 comes screaming back into the story). Since this is getting long and wordy, I'll let the video and pictures below say the rest. But I'll leave it at this: keep skateboards, longboards, banana boards... heck, anything with tiny wheels and grip tape FAR away from me for a while. A long while. I'm gonna need some time to a grow another new left knee...

I like to call this one "The Crew". Or more aptly, "The Calm Before the Storm"

It's all fun and games 'til someone loses a chin...

The end of perfectly good jeans...
I look like I just climbed out of a mine-shaft.

Making war-wounds look like child's play...
Let my pain be a lesson to you all...
That and get the dang camera out of my face.
Photo diary: OVER.