The Task of Those Who Are Still Here
Back in the nineties and early two-thousands, every skatepark had that one group of guys. They were the untouchables. The ones to whom everything seemed to come effortlessly, who threw themselves down every set of stairs, wiped their scraped hands briefly after their tenth slam on the asphalt, and simply kept going. They had that “all-or-nothing” fire in their eyes that drew everyone else in like a magnet. I wasn’t standing out there on the plaza with them back then. I was sitting at home in front of my computer. Two completely different worlds sharing the same town. ...