Authenticity

One of the appeals of skateboarding over the years for me and, I suspect, for most "lifer" types, is its undeniable authenticity. Unlike so much of American mass culture, where style usually outranks substance by a long shot, it's just hard to fake skating. Sure, you can try to look the part, you can run yer yap, you can drop names. But in the end, you have to get on board and, whenever that happens, you're bound to fall eventually. Viola. Humility. The dignity's in trying in the first place. Getting up and trying again. There's a real metaphor for life in there somewhere.

As skateboarding has increasingly become swept up by the seemingly irresistible wave of soulless, plastic American consumer culture, and is thereby represented more by people who don't skate than those who do, longtime participants have obviously bemoaned the consequent, suspected loss of its authenticity. But never fear. Skating will always be "realer" than most things.  So long as people actually skate, and so long as it doesn't become too jocked out, regimented, and predictable, the beauty of skating will always reside in the fact that you actually have to do it. And so long as there are still people who don't think there's really a wrong way to do it, that in itself will ensure that people will find new ways to do so in new places. As is the case with every worthwhile thing, it's the effort that counts, after all. Cheers to everyone who's still trying.