Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Skate or Die

I don't know about you, but I for one ball point penned this onto my jeans in middle school.

I was infatuated with all things skater and all things punk rock.

To my mothers horror, I am sure of now, I shaved half of my head in the 7th grade (1988) and died the rest the color of my current whim.

I loved this particular brown sweater and black button up combo, but never would you find me with both shoulders covered up by my favorite cardigan. Always, yes always, the cardigan must hang down off the opposite shoulder of the hair.  This way I could do my best Allison Reynolds impersonation on impulse.

This all said, I was no Allison.  I was loud, forcibly comic, and in charge.  My poor mom.  I grew up drueling after any cute skater boy and scored one.
And so now, even as I am widowed, as said hot skater boy goes out to dinner with pro skater dudes for some pre wine/skating/truck video making/barrel ollieing dinner, I feel fortunate to have found someone who can still listen to the best of the 1988 New Wave Punk Rock Explosion with nostalgia and at the same time wonder how I succumbed to highlights.

No comments:

Post a Comment