Timbre #6 / Toner #16

Other Than

Are you burnt?

Do you smell smoke? Having trouble breathing? Is skateboarding charring the ends of your synapses — leaving you with that slightly overcooked feeling?

No? Really?

Well, of course, this might be hard for many of you to admit. In case you’re wondering, it’s hard to type, too, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real. And you know what they say—the first step in the healing process is an admission that there is indeed a problem.

Here’s the problem:

A person can skateboard too much.

“Not me!” you’re surely saying.

Well, get in line with the rest of the chicken shits, my friend. They’re all over there sitting on that ledge, clutching their boards, fearful of the moment that they have to go to class, go to work, go to a family gathering, go to the store, go on a date, or anything else—something greater than, lesser than, or other than.

It’s a fear that’s quite honorable, actually. A group of people twenty million strong who are as single minded and devoted to their calling as any of the planet’s takers of vows—governmental, religious, social, or otherwise. They’re real and they’ll gladly shun the rest of life’s stupidity for the sake of anything and everything “skate.”

For many—hell, for most—this commitment is the first real one we will ever make on our own. Such is the independent nature of skateboarding. And from that commitment we can learn almost all of life’s lessons:

You only get out of IT what you put into IT; fail and you’ll probably fail again; the best way to learn is to make error after error; if you try you may succeed, but it’s no guarantee; and it’s better to regret something you have done than something you haven’t.

And, oh yeah, you probably sing off key.

Unfortunately, as many have discovered, during this period of study in the ancient ways of self-centered focus, the view can become a bit narrow minded. The reasons skateboarding is appealing in the first place can unknowingly be nudged aside for a more elitist attitude. Simply, it goes like this—anyone who isn’t doing what you and other “real’ skaters are doing is, for all practical purposes, blowing it.

Within moments of adopting this stance, the smell will drift in, scalded and charred—a burning stink. But as with all smells, the longer you’re exposed to it, the less you notice it. Unfortunately, if you get used to even the slightest stink, you have effectively buffered yourself from the one and only warning sign you may ever get. You are burning out.

Soon you may find yourself yelling at pedestrians who happen to walk in front of you as you skate by. You might throw your board. You might focus it all the way down to the trucks. You might find yourself headed out the door, board in hand, because of a feeling of obligation. You might also find yourself getting hurt and then feeling more relaxed when you rent the crutches.

You are burning out.

It’s a fine line, though. Aggression, anger, rage, passion, and creative exasperation are healthy aspects of everyone’s life — they provide balance. It ain’t bad to get mad, but the public purging of essential emotions can often be misinterpreted. If you aren’t burned out though, the difference is easy to detect—the biggest factor may be that you are open to the idea of burnout; or at least you’re concerned about it. The truly burnt won’t even say the words.

So how do you avoid jumping the synapse from beneficial-but-misinterpreted outbursts to full-blown raging burnout? Simply go do something else. Strap on a pair of real roller skates. Sing karaoke. Wear a wig. Ride a girl’s bike to the store. Listen to country music. Read a book. Talk to someone way younger than you and someone way older than you. Buy a guitar and play it. Watch public television. Cook dinner. Eat a popsicle for breakfast. Punch yourself anywhere.

Here’s the thing. Just the fact that you have chosen skateboarding (or depending how you look at, you’ve been chosen by skateboarding) means you can count yourself as part of a rare community of history’s artists, poets, lovers, and freaks. Because of your contact with a skateboard, you’ve automatically gained a perspective and knowledge that 99% of people will never experience. Now the real trick is figuring out how not to eat your own tail.

Make mistakes, fall down, get hurt, and stay dirty, then use the skills that skateboarding has allowed you to develop and do something else — something greater than, something lesser than, or something other than.

And bring your board with you.