A chunk of 2x12 cut from a too long rafter tail; carved to a basic concave, some clamps, a big bottle of glue. Throw all that together and you have a plank. And a skateboard is really just that. No buttons to push, no gas tanks, no exhaust pipe. With it I can certainly get going as fast as I'd really please to go; usually way too fast. My skateboard has taken me places, introduced me to lifelong friends and has been a source of many a scar and countless fun memories. When I was a teenager, it was a way of creating and owning my own world, and it has never stopped doing that. As I've gotten older I've naturally had to modify the way I ride. Within that process is the realization how ridiculous the propagation of "categories" is. When you realize that all forms of having fun are acceptable (except for razor scooters and bros riding in flip flops), then the rules seem moot. Pools, ditches, curbs, banks, the dirt path to the skatepark, hills- they're all there to skate. None of this is a new revelation; it just feels good to say it. So the next time you see that group of kids skating the yellow curb on top of the chunky bank on the side of the 7-11 for hours on end, all you need to know is that they are making their own fun, inventing their own tricks and building a beautiful world on top of the one around them. And if you can see far enough in the future, you might just see that same crew as old guys talking about the decks they had, the spots they got kicked out of and ways they're still trying to invent their own fun.