When I'm 64... longboard-inspired thoughts on living life crazily

I don't need an excuse to get all philosophical. It comes naturally to me.

But armed with a strong cup of coffee, a warm dry Oregon early evening, and a memory of a pleasant afternoon spent longboarding at Salem's wonderful Minto Brown Island Park, I feel especially inspired to muse about what life means to me on my 64th-birthday eve. 

The Beatles released "When I'm 64" in 1967. I was a college freshman. Loved the song. Hated the idea of being 64. The lyrics seemed depressingly fantastical back in those youthful days. 

When I get older losing my hair,
Many years from now...

Bummer of a thought to start off a Flower Child era song. But I didn't take it seriously. Hell, I'd never be 64. I was just 19 at the time. No way I'd ever become the old geezer the Beatles sang about. 

And yet... here I am. Almost 64. Losing my hair to a bald spot. Also, to thinning. 

But here's the difference between the 64 year old me I feared I'd be, and the 64 year old me I am. Just before I snapped that photo, I'd propped my Camera+ self-timer equipped iPhone 5 against my backpack and gotten a larger perspective on what I was doing.

I was about 2 1/2 miles into another ride on my newly acquired Kahuna Creations Haka Moko longboard, which melds so nicely with the Kahuna Big Stick (basically it makes longboarding into stand up paddling, on asphalt rather than water). 

And yes, I wear a helmet. I just took it off for my picture taking. After all, I'm not crazy.

Or am I? Of course I am!

I asked that question three months ago in my first skateboard post, "At 63, I'm seriously considering skateboarding. Am I crazy?" The responses I got from most other people were along the lines of "absolutely."

Which didn't deter me at all, obviously. I like craziness.

Not the pathological psychiatric variety; there's nothing funny or fun about psychosis. What I like is the delicious feeling of doing something that doesn't make sense to other people, that seems like an outrageously bad idea to them, yet strikes me as a marvelously proper thing to embrace.

What I really was afraid of back in 1967, as now, wasn't becoming old. It was becoming sane. The sort of sanity where you act your age, do what's expected of you, don't take unnecessary risks, pursue activities that don't raise eyebrows or attract wide-eyed attention.

Understand: I don't longboard because I want to look like an insane geezerish skateboarding senior citizen rebel who is having an end-of-life crisis that won't quit. Well, that's part of the reason, because I like that image; but there's much more to my longboarding madness.

I just knew. That. It was what. I should do.

Short and simple. Four ungrammattical declarative sentences. 

In 1989 I asked my wife to marry me after knowing her only a few months, and having been divorced just a little while before I met Laurel. Crazy! And yet...

We celebrated our 22nd anniversary this year. I just knew. That. It was what. I should do.

Three years ago I jumped into another crazy wheeled activity.

I bought a big Suzuki Burgman 650 scooter. Just as with longboarding, the prevailing consensus was that this was an ill-advised idea. After all, everybody knows how dangerous motorcycles are, and a Burgman 650 is a thinly-disguised motorcycle (albeit one that shifts on its own and has antilock brakes).

I sold the scooter this year. Never got as much as a scratch. Never had any sort of accident. Had a lot of fun with it. Never regretted the crazy decision to get it. Because...

I just knew. That. It was what. I should do.

Craziness, non-pathological variety, is in the eye of the beholder. And the judge of this should be us. There's no such thing as objective crazy. What seems awesomely outrageously inappropriate to one person will be the bestest most wonderful splendiferous thing to do to someone else.

I really didn't know what to expect when I decided to jump into longboarding. It just called to me.

I can conjure up reasons for why I bought a longboard, but those wouldn't be the truth. I don't know why I did it. I have no idea how my brain came up with the thoughts and feelings and intuitions and oh yeah's! which led to a Kahuna Big Stick and Hako Moko longboard becoming a permanent traveling companion in my Mini Cooper, along with my bag of shoes, helmet, and other protective gear.

Often when I open up the luggage compartment and look at that stuff, I think about Magritte's "This is not a pipe." Likewise, my longboard isn't a longboard. Well, it is and it isn't. 

It isn't, because it's so much more than what it outwardly appears to be.

It's the mixture of trepidation and excitement I felt when I took my first faltering rollings on what seemed to be a crazily unstable means of getting around on unforgiving asphalt. It's the fear of trying something new that I wasn't sure I could do, and also the fear of not trying something new, the two fears being like matter and antimatter, cancelling each other out in an explosion of "Fuck it! If I can't longboard at 63 I'm sure the hell not going to be any better at it next year, or the year after, or the year after, and then one year I'll have died without doing what..."

I just knew. That. It was what. I should do.

Younger dudes and dudettes, which by the laws of human longevity will encompass almost everybody who comes across these almost-64th-birthday thoughts, this is my geezerish advice for you:

Embrace your craziness. It's the most sane part of you.

That crazy idea, feeling, intuition, desire -- that itchy urge which won't go away no matter how much you try to scratch it into practical, logical, sane oblivion -- the notion that, when you get up the guts to share it with other people, they scream at you no, no, don't do it!, that could be the thing you need to do so badly, your life will scream at you no, no! if you march to the beat of someone else's drummer and DON'T do it.

Comments

[Willie R]

Yep - I know what you are talking about, Blogger Brian. I am 63 years old myself. Besides a 7 month age difference between us, I am disabled and in pain 24/7, and in a couple more months I will be a first-time home buyer.

Oh yeah - and did I mention that I just finished my 2nd (!) bankruptcy and I am pre-qualified for a VA loan with no down payment and no private mortgage insurance?

So how does a twice-bankrupt disabled 63 year old veteran get to be a first-time home buyer?

I have no idea.

[JuJu Bezoar]

You. Are. The. Bomb!

Happy Birthday! Thank you for your happy inspirational post. You made my morning.

Robin

[Jim]

Geezers on longboards...
No better testament to the joys of the relatively "unsane."

Even though I have really messed up my left shoulder in a crash (onto grass rather than asphalt, thankfully) I go out again for the unique feeling of rolling around on my Never Summer Swift longboard -- against conventional wisdom.

Thanks again for your inspiring, adventurous spirit, Brian. And, as you suggested, I have a Big Kahuna "paddle" on the way.

The feel of well-carved turns, the exhilaration of way too much speed on a downhill (I still don't know how to stop) and the cries of "you are crazy Grandpa" in my ears make for a very satisfying experience to this unexpected adventurer. I think I know just what you are saying.

Your instinct to do what truly compels you while not caring what others may think or judge, reminds me of one of my favorite, deeply profound songs (and a personal anthem): "row, row, row your boat gently down the stream..."

Stay frisky my friend. Dream on...

[Brian Hines]

Jim, had to check out your longboard. Looks great. I like the description: "the luxury cruise liner of longboards."

Like you, I dream of stopping on a steep incline. But I'm getting more comfortable with handling moderate inclines where there is a runout at the bottom. I drag my Big Stick slightly which gives me the feeling (or illusion) of slowing down somewhat. That helps.

Yes, it's that exhilaration of not being really sure whether you're headed for a crash or a fun ride that is part of what makes longboarding so satisfying. No risk, no reward, fun-wise. At least, that's how my psyche works.

[Bayrider]

Dude, you look good but damn, you ARE kinda old for this stuff!

Anyway I saw your comment on Lloyd's blog and came here to review yours which is also very groovy. I just bought the Big Stick as a 58th birthday present for myself. Lloyd inspired me to take up longboarding a couple years back and yes I have taken a few spills but have not had to be put down yet. The stick is a really good workout but not nearly as exciting as my 95lb Black Lab who loves to pull me at full tilt down our rural streets. He is really pissed about that stick though!

If you can find High School parking lots or similar on a moderate slope you have an excellent and fun training ground. I sure would like to learn to slide as demonstrated by Kyle Chin in this dreamlike video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kkviQ41u0eQ

All the best,

Dave
Cottonwood CA

[Brian Hines]

Bayrider/Dave, thanks for the video link. Wow. I found it quite moving, even "spiritual" in a sense, using that word as loosely as I like to use it.

I hold out a hope, no, damn it, an expectation, that I'll be able to use the Big Stick to aid in stand up sliding before too long -- "too long" being defined as before I'm too old to do this stuff anymore.

Which will be a while, from Lloyd's experience.

I'm impressed with your Black Lab addition to your longboarding. We have a energetic 50 pound "mutt" (beautiful mixed breed, rather) who probably could pull me along. But the first squirrel she sees, I figure I'd be pulled sideways. Your dog must be more straightforward.

[bayrider]

The lab took to it immediately, he's very strong, willing and excitable. I trained him to stay on my right. When I want him to run I squat down alongside him and point forward with my off hand and give him a let's go! I got a body harness so I hook the thin leather leash on top between his shoulder blades, I took the wrist loop out on that leash and I can run over it without consequences, 9 times out of ten that is. I have let go for many a squirrel with him, believe me. He knows to come back up alongside me when I'm rolling and I grab onto the harness or leash again. When you first start with a dog skate/push a little with him alongside, if he comes in front and crowds you, kick the board out fast at his feet and he will learn to stay out of the way.

The 7' leash allows you to stay well behind and slalom back and forth at a full run. It's a lot like wakeboarding, the leash acts as a fulcrum that you are leaning on and into, it actually stabilizes you more than free skating as you revolve all around it.

On the way home I hook the other dog on the left, he don't want to pull me, just poodle along so I can use him as the drag brake and the other one as the accelerator.

Hang loose, I'll check in again some time...

[Robert]

Hello,
I am 49 years old and I suffer from depression after a divorce (it was not my choice), In the worst moments I was thinking about ending my life. You know.
Longboarding was a breakthrough for a better relationship with my two children. A way to share time together
Sometimes I feel too old for this, or embarrassed at what people think when they see me.

It's good to read your story. You have a great personality.
Best regards from the south of the south.