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Nice! I’m talking old school, though. I used to have a subscription to skateboarder magazine. When I got my latest issue in the mail, I ‘d go out front and teach myself what they were doing in California. One issue had a series of photos of a kid doing a kick flip off a curb. That’s when I gave up. I can’t even begin to wrap my head around what kids do on boards anymore. Ollie? WTF? How did you get the board to follow you when you jumped in the air? Double twist when you hit the air...(nice recovery from thread drift, huh?)

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34 minutes ago, Greg from Chestertown said:

Nice! I’m talking old school, though. I used to have a subscription to skateboarder magazine. When I got my latest issue in the mail, I ‘d go out front and teach myself what they were doing in California. One issue had a series of photos of a kid doing a kick flip off a curb. That’s when I gave up. I can’t even begin to wrap my head around what kids do on boards anymore. Ollie? WTF? How did you get the board to follow you when you jumped in the air? Double twist when you hit the air...(nice recovery from thread drift, huh?)

 

Skateboarder magazine was almost impossible to find at the news stand. When you finally got one it was like amazon. I ordered a Lucero deck and built a quarter pipe. Of course back then young kids would build that shit themselves. It was a horrible ramp. It had 2 bends in it you had to contend with and 98% of the time it led to disaster. But I’d jump on the electrical box in our yard and land perfectly in the grass from 5 feet up. Landing on concrete was a completely different animal. I was a great tic tacker. I could do that for a mile without having to push.  An Ollie?  No way we thought about shit like that. A fakie on a friends ramp was a pro style move back then lol. 

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I lived in a small neighborhood, twelve houses. Ours was the last one before the cul-de-sac. My neighbors front yard was a hill right at the edge of the street. We would lay two sheets of plywood my dad had on their front yard at the edge of the street. That was our ramp. We were stoked (remember that word?) if we would ride up and kick turn with only one wheel still on the ramp. I grew up in Wilmington, De. My mom would drive me to the foot of the Delaware Memorial  Bridge, drop me off so that I could skate the drainage ditches, thcn come back and pick me up before dinner. Try getting away with that one these days, you’d get locked up for sure. 

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We didn’t have natural half pipes like the big cities and I still say stoked. I think I even got a text from some people who said they are stoked about BM. 

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I have two different hawks, about six different deer, a bard owl, a couple of turkeys, one with eight little ones a couple of weeks ago, all showing up in my backyard on a regular basis at different times of the day, night, week, to hunt or just graze. I had two fawns bedded down a couple of weeks ago. The best I can figure, they’re coming to get a closer listen to the Grateful Dead music that I am playing in the house. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. 

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The Jerry Garcia Band was flowing out the open windows when I arrived at work one morning. After getting out of the car I heard the mockingbird on the post overhead sing Jerry's guitar licks over and over several times.

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39 years ago today, I had it done to me by the Grateful Dead for the first time. About four days before, a girl friend of mine and I were walking across the parking lot at the Mann music center in Philly to meet up with about a dozen friends at a James Taylor concert. Two guys were arguing in the parking lot. ‘Thirty’. ‘No, thirty five’. I walked up to them and asked what they were arguing about. ‘ two tickets for the Grateful Dead Saturday night’. I immediately pulled out my wallet and said ‘I ‘ll give you thirty five.’ 

  My first show is pretty much a blur, remembering only that it was like nothing else I had ever experienced. We sat, mesmerized, watching the people as much as the band. Smiling the whole time. Seven weeks later, I ‘m getting snuck into Radio City, catching an acoustic 15th anniversary show. Two shows later, I’m going to a show by myself, without a ticket. No problem. Thirty nine years later, I just caught a Dark Star Orchestra show down the beach while they were passing through. Life is good. 

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