The job interview has went well. You have the necessary experience and the manager shook your hand in a way that said, “you’ll be back.” But then he asks in a nonchalant manner, “so what do you do in your spare time?” You panic as hours spent lying on pavements high on cola flashes before your eyes. You give a deferential response: “I go running sometimes.”
So runs the dialogue between the normalos/Normon forces (Peep Show reference) and the average urethanian Jo. If we concede that skateboarding is “cool” now, it is still not a socially acceptable form of adult play time. Indeed, I once heard a woman hand my friend his “toy” back – he was a 22 year old at the time. It is made worse by the fact that in the videos bearded adults chase prepubescent teens around car parks in what looks like an attempt to hoover them up in their death lens. The raised eyebrows are inevitable. But of course, it is all in good fun and is innocuous. But that doesn’t help me legitimatize my hobby to potential mates/dates/bosses. In football the girls and boys play separately, and the young and old are divided. In skateboarding, an expressive medium, anyone can play with anyone. It is just a shame that after the play ends you might realise that they are not old enough to go for a pint. It’s a weird one.
At least the fashion is acceptable? This is contentious too as the fickle nature of skate wear means that last year’s camo trousers are this year’s painter threads. So we are in constant flux. Always chasing a look or aesthetic. As an adult you are meant to have this on lock. It should be sent. Not on the latch, not in the outbox. You wear a top man approved shirt and brogues. And not in a way that resembles Dylan the impossible tailgrabber. Because it is an all consuming force that influences all aspects of your life, it is difficult to rive it from your make-up.
Perhaps it will always be the place where people with limited social skills hang out alongside those with slightly better social skills. Perhaps it doesn’t matter.