At about 2:30 this morning, I got out of bed to get a drink of water. I was standing in front of my kitchen sink, looking out the open window. I heard the strangest noise from outside and squinted to try to see where it was coming from.
A teenager on a skateboard came flying down the our hill, right in the middle of the street. I ran to the living room window to try to see what happened when he got to the bottom of the hill, a 4-way intersection that is bordered by a river which is over its banks right now. There aren't many places to bail off of an out-of-control skateboard at that point, nothing that isn't pavement or river or road sign.
I couldn't see him at the bottom, but I also didn't hear a spectacular sounding crash, so I can only assume that he made it.
When I was a kid and we were living in North Dakota, our house sat on top of a very similar hill. Our neighbors across the street were my mother's cousin and her family. Her youngest son (that would make him my 2nd cousin, for those playing Genealogy Bingo at home), Blaine, was my best friend growing up.
Blaine's dad Rick was that one dad, the dad that always tries to be the funny, hip, cool, popular, wild, crazy dad that all the kids love. Blaine and his siblings spent a lot of time yelling "DAD, STOP! Go AWAY!!!!" while Rick danced around with underwear on his head and his pants hiked up to his armpits while lip-syncing to Debbie Gibson.
As part of his quest to be the wildest craziest funniest dad in town, Rick did a lot of hilariously dangerous things. Sometimes they didn't end well. I remember sitting with Blaine and waiting for an ambulance when Rick fell off of the roof. But more than anything else, I remember the Skateboard Incident.
Blaine had a skateboard. We lived on a hill. Rick was convinced he could make it down the hill on Blaine's skateboard. We stood at the top and watched him take off. I don't remember seeing the wreck itself, but I do remember a bleeding, gravel-covered Rick limping back up the hill.
Now some would look at this situation and think about what a terrible influence that Rick was, but you have to see it from another angle. Like Steve Earle once said about his drug problem, sometimes the easiest way to discourage bad behavior in your children is by showing them the results of your own bad choices. If you can't be a role model, then at least be a warning to others. Rick was the reason that I never wondered what it would be like to skateboard down our hill or climb really tall things. Or listen to Debbie Gibson.
So last night, watching the kid flying down our hill on his skateboard, I had two simultaneous thoughts. I smiled and thought of Rick, and then I thanked The Universe that Duke wasn't there to see it and say "Hey, I could do that."
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