Rollerblading in Santa Monica

Dedicated to Eva

I am roller-blading down the “boardwalk” in Santa Monica, in front of our hotel, Shutters-On-The-Beach.  It is Saturday afternoon.  The sun is shining.  The sky is a pale cobalt blue with a few clouds.  The ocean is very calm.  There are lots of people out today, roller-blading, bicycling, a homeless person is sleeping on a ledge.  A black man is listening to jazz on his radio.  Some Chicano boys are speaking Spanish.  Children, young families, young couples are skating by me.  Someone in a wheelchair goes scooting by.  Someone warns me, “Passing.”  Someone says, “How’s it going?” as I almost lose my balance.  “I’m getting there,” I say.

After all, I’m 71, and haven’t been skating since childhood, except occasionally ice skating with Mother, years ago.  We didn’t have “roller-blades” when I was a child.  Just old-fashioned “skates,” that fastened onto our shoes and had to be tightened with a key.  (I took care not to lose that key.)

I never learned how to stop and I still don’t know how!  I remember once when I was out skating by myself in Pittsburgh after school, I was going down a rather steep incline near our church, and suddenly realized that I didn’t know how to stop!  So I headed for a big mailbox, which almost toppled over when I hit it!

Today, since I don’t see any mailboxes on the “boardwalk,” I am doing what I did in Norway in the early 50’s, when I learned how to slow down on skis.  “Snowplow!  Snowplow, Nanny!” said my dear father-in-law.  It works!