Rock Chalk Jayhawk

My apologies to the Jayhawk faithful out there if I may have misspelled the famed KU motto; I am not sure if it is “Rock Chock” or “Rock Chalk”.

I made a deposit at BNZ this morning, only to discover in conversation with the teller that her husband grew up in Kansas, and is KU alum. Go figure. Small world. She mentioned that he worked around the corner at “The Naked Grape”, so I wandered over. I wasn’t sure which one he was, but it didn’t end up mattering. Tim came walking out from behind the bar as soon as he saw my “Kansas” shirt. We congratulated one another on last year’s Jayhawk sporting successes. He had to get back to work, but told me to stop by to chat. Maybe a fellow Jayhawk can give me a job?

Yes, I’m still looking for work. Betsy is toiling away at the Oceanside Café, a job she wishes she hadn’t found, and I’m waiting for the Bay of Plenty Times to hit the newsstands so I can comb through the “Situations Vacant” section one more time. Luigi, at an Italian restaurant named Volare, was ready to hire me, but a fulltime job working nights wasn’t what the doctor ordered. Now I’ve got my fingers crossed that I’ll hear from Video Ezy; or Woolworths, our grocery store of choice; or Bay City Cinemas, where we saw Doubt; or Gusto’s, a local café I’ve been hounding for a job.

Fletcher is the cook at Gusto’s, and JZ is a waitress. Fletcher isn’t a very good chess player, but knows the area pretty well. He was born and raised in Te Puke, a very nearby town, just like his parents. He has worked at Gusto’s for two years, and was waiting for his girlfriend to get off work when we played a game of chess. JZ’s real name is Jazzman, but “she likes to be called JZ”, according to Fletcher. Alicia is one of the managers, and she has my CV, but doesn’t seem to keen on hiring me. I asked JZ to put in a good word for me.

Patricia at the trailer park continues to feed Betsy and me. Last night it was homemade cornbread, and watermelon & avocado ice cream. The night before it was vegetable frittata. A few nights before that it was beef and potato pie. Yum! Alex and Tioriori (T for short) have fallen in love with having us design and time races for them. It works out pretty well for us; we just sit there and tire the little buggers out! Ron is still my favorite neighbor. He’s just a hell of a nice guy, very friendly, plays with his grandkids, asks how we’re doing, how the job is going (when speaking to Betsy of course), how our day was. I like that guy. I think I might pack him up and bring him back with us.

Perhaps my favorite moment of the last week or so was the skateboarder I had the pleasure of watching on the boardwalk, outside Betsy’s place of work. I was killing a few minutes, waiting for Betsy to get off work, when my attention was drawn to a young boy eating an ice cream cone. He was a bit of an awkward kid, 10 years old or so, wearing pretty thick glasses, all arms and legs. He was outfitted in the coolest skateboard gear, tie-dye hat and all, from the local Walmart (or equivalent) back home, in the size they had that was closest to his own -not a perfect fit, but close enough. He won me over when he broke off bits of his cone and fed them to the pigeons (which are much more attractive here than back home, by the way). It was all the more endearing when some of these pieces ended up stuck to his own shirt. But the show was just beginning. It was time to get in some skateboard practice. Some things became apparent rather quickly. One, this kid meant business. Two, he had definitely watched some skateboarders on TV, or maybe at the local skate park, or maybe he even read a book from the local library (or perhaps that’s just what I would do if I wanted to learn to skateboard), and he had been practicing the moves. Three, he unfortunately wasn’t blessed with heaps of natural athleticism. Four, number three wasn’t going to stop him.

He had a few favorite moves. He knew how to hold the board at his side, and in one semi-fluid motion drop the board and hop on with a running start. We’re off. He also knew how to change direction, by lifting the front wheels off the ground and twirling as much as 180 degrees. This maneuver was a bit less ingrained in his muscle memory. Every few twirls he would wobble a bit on his way around, carefully regaining his balance while pointing roughly in the intended direction. He was cool though, smooth, confident. He could also stop, and stomp the back of the board, coolly propelling the front up into his waiting hands. It’s important to be able to execute this process, as the boardwalk is a busy place. Off again, he’d scope out some space to practice his specialty; the jump. “Dad. Dad! Watch. Dad watch!” He knew that you’re supposed to position your feet toward the back of the board, your weight on the balls of your feet, heels hanging off. Crouch low. Steady... This could be good… jump! Not quite. He’s still practicing. This is a new move. The jump is complicated. You’re got to get both feet on the board when you come down. Sometimes you only get one on there, or one and the wrong part of the other. If you don’t, sometimes you end up doing the splits, with the inevitable slow motion landing on your bum. That’s okay, this kid was tough. He would get right back up, brush himself off, and execute the running start maneuver. There’s room. “Dad, watch me again. Dad!” Feet back, crouch. Steady. Go. Almost. You’ve also have to get the skateboard to cooperate. Sometimes the darn thing has a mind of its own and speeds off just when it’s go-time and you achieve liftoff. When that happens your feet tend to chase the board and you end up on your belly. This can include a bump on the elbow, which isn’t equipped with the same padding as the bum. Retrieve the board, nurse the elbow. “Dad. My elbow. I think it’s okay.” We’re off… Dad’s already watching this time. Feet back, steady. Crouch. Steady. Jump! Liftoff! The front of the board soars, a foot in the air. The back of the board, well not exactly a foot in the air. Let’s say closer to… the thickness of the ruler. But we’re airborne! The board is still in position, beneath the skater. Touchdown! Both feet. Smooth as silk. A quick glance toward dad. He saw. A quick glance at a passerby. They saw too! Chest out, arms hovering further from his side than normal. Standing tall. The superhero pose. 180 degree spin! Seamless. Did the passerby see that!? If not, it’s okay. He’s focused again. The look on his face? Through his thick glasses, “Yeah, that was my jump. I make that jump all the time.” Just another day at the office. For a superhero.