Inspired by my good friend, Miss Bmac, I decided to dust off my rollarskates. I suspect this is going to be a post of confession.
Confession #1: I own a pair of rollarskates. Oh. Yes. They are black and yellow. And if that's not cool enough they also say "hang ten" on the sides. These skates take cool to a whole new level.
Confession #2: As a child I was a rollarblader (that's "blader" not "skater"). I have done neither for a long long time. But, I figure if blading is "like riding a bike" and skating is like blading then I'll be a skating genius in under 10 minutes.
Confession #3: Back in the day I was pretty good at rollarblading. Like any true child of the nineties my blades were fused to my feet. My little brother and I bladed everywhere. Everywhere. We would put them on in the morning as you would put on shoes. Dad would give our wheels a little spray with WD-40 and we'd be on our way. We were little eight-wheel-tear-aways. Unlike The Mighty Ducks we were hardcore. There were never any wrist pads, knee pads or helmets involved. It was just us and our blades ripping up the concrete.
I decided the world wasn't quite ready for my rolarskating skills so I confined myself to my back garden. After 10 minutes of rollarskating I was not the rollarskating genius I had hoped to be. I found I was far more talented at snoozing in the sunshine. Turns out there are a few fundamental differences between rollarblading and rollarskating (memo to self: the brakes on rollarskates are at the front).
Upon awakening from my nap I was reinspired. So there will be a next time. And I will (eventually) be like Gene Kelly in It's Always Fair Weather. Stay tuned!