With Friends Like This

I spent most of my adolescence wasting time with my friend Craig. Our activities rarely extended beyond playing basketball, reading comic books or playing video games. But sometimes boredom got the best of us and we would try something different.

On one such occasion I decided to give Craig's new Rollerblades a try. Looking back, that he even owned a pair of Rollerblades seems ridiculous, but whatever. I walked out into his driveway and strapped them bad boys on. Once my feet were adorned with said footwear, Craig helped me take position in the middle of the street in front of his house. This particular street, Spanish Trail, seemed like an ideal place to stage my first-ever Rollerblade mission. Starting in front of Craig's house it was pretty straight and, best of all, downhill.

Standing on the crest of the hill, staring down Spanish Trail, I was wearing the following: a t-shirt, shorts and Rollerblades. I guess it was youthful hubris, but that this could turn out to be anything but my finest hour never crossed my mind.

With a healthy shove from Craig, I was off. I started out slow but before long I was picking up speed. I started drifting to the left and that's when I realized that Craig had left 'turning' out of his tutorial. He must have remembered too, because at about that time I heard him yelling behind me, "It's like skiing! Turn like you're skiing!"

By this time I was barrelling down the street, veering toward the drainage ditch and Craig's instructions seemed to come at just the right time. I know how to ski, so I shifted my weight, attempting a hockey-style stop. Bound by the laws of physics, the polycarbonate wheels were unable to maintain contact with the street and pretty quickly I was horizontal, flying through the air.

These are the things my brain processed:

1. "Craig has never been skiing, why would he know how to stop?"

2. "Wow, I'm going faster than I thought."

3. "I am about the hit the street, which from this new perspective, can best be described as an asphalt cheese grater."

4. "Mother $@#% that hurts!"

5. "Is that #$%&@ laughing at me?"

And I was right, he was laughing at me. I bled a lot that day and it was the last time I ever roller bladed. It was also the last time I took advice from Craig unconditionally. That was only one of at least seven different occasions I almost died as a result of something Craig and I were doing.

We live in different towns now.

Oh My God What's Your Name My Name's Lyle

I couldn't resist making this lyric from Lyle Lovett's song "Redneck Woman" the title of this post, but it has little to do with what comes next. If you are not familiar with Lyle's music, it difficult to categorize so I won't bore you with an explanation. But I came across this YouTube clip that I wanted to share here. The song is called "Flyin' Shoes" and is Lovett's cover of the song "To Live's to Fly", written by Townes Van Zandt, which explains the images in the video. So, I encourage you to take some time away from whatever you are doing and give this a listen. If your day does not improve by a factor of 10, I will refund every dime. Enjoy.