For the past four days, I have been helping a friend transcribe videos for a project she’s curating, so I’ve been spending a lot of time in front of the computer screen. I’d wake up next to the computer, too exhausted to even bike to work. So, today I set out to ride my board to the soka gakkai center on wabash, thinking it would be a nice ride. I had to go through dusable park — an area that I have never even biked to before. I rode onto a curve, which although wasn’t particularly sharp, turned out to be long enough to cause me to gain momentum!  The smoothness of the new asphalt made the board go too fast! With the oncoming traffic of pedestrians at the head of the next curve, and the stone sculpture garden on the lake side, the bottom of my board started gaining wind! I know I’m not strong enough to ride that wind, nor do a foot brake with my right foot, so I had to do a running dismount! but my left foot landed on the rolling board! and I fell backwards on the slide! Fortunately, my helmet and the bike light I have attached to my belt took the impact. People stopped by to ask if I was okay, and I said yes, YES, I was! ThankFully! My bike light and my helmet saved me! I picked up the broken pieces of red and clear plastic and said goodbye to my trusty bike light (I should have saved a piece of it). Then I walked over to the water fountain to drink, and saw a concerned couple clean up pieces of the broken bike light left on the trail by dragging them into the grassy area with their shoes. “…wouldn’t want a roller blader to do what you did,” said the taller of the two. Pleased and embarrassed at the same time, I told them I’d finish cleaning up, and proceeded with being pleased and embarrassed. I reached for the phone in my pocket and called soka gakkai, found out that they would soon be closing for the night, so I turned around and headed home, carrying my board in my arm, glad I was okay…
I walked near the shore, shook and stretched my limbs at the waves gently breaking the strand. people were out on the water, undressing themselves in no-swim areas, swimming away into its gray-cool surface, quietly rowing their boats, taking what looked like oar signals from other people standing on the shore…
at the mouth of the pedestrian tunnel to the ohio street beach, a group of white kids have stretched out an inch-wide, ruddy-colored, flat elastic band, and having tied this between the handrail and a volleyball pole, were taking turns using it as a tightrope. a group of black kids have gathered around them, and perched themselves on the handrail asking questions, watching, waiting, wondering … all of them … just beginning… i paused long enough to follow the lines of their lithe bodies fall gracefully on their own clouds of sand, their skin glisten in the waxing moon’s light, as they leaned and arched to an equilibrium, which now, may only give way to gravity and the ground. at some familiar point, i got on my board, and for the first time, i carved my way home.
