Rancher. Poet. Builder of skateboards.

It is not often when you can truly amaze your children. I had the good fortune to have this happen to me today. When my son and I returned home today, his new skateboard that he had worked for was on the front porch, delivered by DHL by way of E-Bay.

It came unassembled and my son wondered how we could put it together. I took him out to the shop and found my metric sockets and started assembly. He questioned my skateboard building credentials, but I assured him that I had a skateboard once, (a long time ago in a galaxy far far away) and it would be fine. I installed the trucks on the board, it's an Element you know, installed the wheel bearings and wheels then put the grip tape on the deck and trimmed it with my utility knife. I handed it to him after 15 minutes of work and he said, " gee Dad, I didn't know you knew so much about skateboards, you did great".

As a kid growing up on a ranch, I never knew skateboards existed until a new kid from LA showed up at school one day with some cool contraption that had little wheels attached to a piece of wood. That was about 1977. I wanted one in a bad way. My mother, wanting to know where I would ride it, balked at the idea. We owned 6,000 acres, but my entire sidewalk surfing would have to be contained on our only sidewalk, about 30 feet of concrete. I begged and groveled until we bought one in town. I could only ride it at school on the basketball court. That is until one of my buddies broke his arm and skateboards were not be ridden at school, and that means you mister. Skateboarding was a crime, well maybe not an official crime but it was not allowed on the grounds of Oak Run Elementary.

I remember the time my friend and I were skateboarding home one day from school. It was about 6 miles or so down hill most of the way. I am not sure if I have even been more terrified in my life than riding down a half mile hill at 35 miles an hour, too scared to get off because of the great speed, and too scared that I was going to be run over by the logging truck that was following me blowing his horn.

I soon gave up my dreams of being a Lord of Dogtown and went back to my life of chasing cattle and throwing rocks at frogs. Oh, but for a time, I was just as cool as any kid in LA. (well, at least I thought so)