I wear a helmet at the skatepark. It’s very uncool. Mostly, I go very early when the cool people haven’t yet gotten out of bed. Everyone knows that getting up early isn’t cool.
But I digress.
Once, at the skatepark, I was trying to master the littlest half pipe. It’s actually so small that your reaction time has to be so fast that the thing is nearly useless for someone of my size.
I had just been asked by a kid, who was also skating early, why I was so careful to wear wrist guards and a helmet. I said it was because I’m generally uncoordinated and not wearing a helmet is equivalent to just kneeling down and smacking my head on the concrete.
He laughed and said that I looked like I was doing okay.
Or something like that. Before he could finish what he was saying, I wobbled badly and came off the skateboard. The sound my helmet made as it smacked against the side of the little half pipe was really impressive. It echoed off nearby buildings in the chilly morning air. If it had been my unprotected head that’d hit, I sure wouldn’t be drawing right now. Drooling a bit and listing to one side, maybe.
I guess I’ll just never be cool.