I went to Hoboken yesterday and nearly bought a skateboard. What, you might ask, was I doing across the river in (gulp) New Jersey? And furthermore--a skateboard? Huh? Don't ask. I went with George-who for some reason or other had this burning desire--or maybe a dull ache to purchase a new board. So, we were in this store called Psycho Skates and George was asking all the pertinent questions and holding the boards up to eye level. Choosing wheels. Sticking with the trucks he's been buying since he was 13. Talking all this techie-skater lingo I know nothing about. This aging skate-rat put his board together while we watched. And then George tested it out. He stood on it and rocked it back and forth. I was transfixed. It looked so...fun. Buying a board, that is. We left the store (after George paid and the counter guy gave me some free stickers) and George jumped on--23 and in his work clothes...brown shoes and all. He whizzed down the sidewalk while I walked along after him. I wanted to do that! Goerge offered it to me, but I was afraid...Afraid of falling off, or hurting myself. Afraid of looking stupid or being called a poseur. Afraid that I was too old. That's it. I feel like it's way too late. Like I should have done it when I was in Junior High like I had wanted. But am I really too old to skate? I look like I'm 15. I feel like I'm 15. Who's to say I can't act like it as well? Who's stopping me--other than myself? I have to think this over some more...I don't want to drop a hundred bucks and then have the darn thing end up in my closet collecting dust with my rollerblades.