Skateboarding Grandpa

When long hair hit the last part of the 60’s, I’d been drafted, made to sport a short “do.” Smoking pot, black light posters, and acid, would faze out long before I’d be through.

My friends were bearded peacenik hippies; I kept my face clean shaven, but had no say. After surviving a career in military service, I grew a beard: no longer auburn, but gray.

As a professor and a dad I raised five sons; avoided joysticks and playing video games. Never zoomed about town on a skateboard, a techno fossil, they all loved just the same.

My sons are up north producing grandkids. I’m chillin’ like a villain here in Key West; missing out being a part of fond memories, but after all I’ve been through, it’s the best.

We’d all like a chance at doing things over; but as we age, much gets impossible to do. Putting off until tomorrow’s quite foolish; no telling what card will be drawn for you.

What happens in life is a matter of timing. I was always ahead or behind of the trends. Today, arthritis makes joysticks too painful; but skate boarding’s a breeze in Depends.

~g