Lost in Translation

As we head toward the very last days of summer here in Ramsgate, the kids have been making the most of the sunshine. While my intrepid twosome donned their safety gear and made off up the road on their jay-boards, yours truly sat smugly on the garden wall thanking my Creator for not making me the compulsive type that would feel the urge to give the contraption a go. No, I sat vicariously enjoying the thrills and spills and soon enough, read the packaging for one of the boards.

"This board changes you. You can become light more, more stylish than whom. Everyone accepts this fact. You will also challenge early."

This had me sitting up very straight indeed. Whoever would have thought that a quick spin on a semi-articulated skate board could revolutionise my life so radically? Clever Chinese!

Given present circumstances, this was exactly the elixir I needed for my soul even if it came in the form of two wheeled pads of death joined by a swivelling thingummy in the middle.

Being cautious, yours truly dragged one of the boards into the lounge and much to the amusement of the boys, practiced while gripping the back of the sofa.

No less than a nanosecond after placing my feet on the thing, I resembled a Cantonese contortion artist with my left leg slung over the back of the sofa and my right stretched out in front of me gripping the board with my toes and hanging on for dear life.  It was a totally unstylish moment.

My toe grip of death gave way shortly thereafter and as the jay-board shot across the room sans mommy, and I plummeted off the back of the sofa onto my derriere, there was nothing light about the impact.

I was also finding it hard at this stage to accept the promise on the packaging. Nobody in this house was accepting this fact, noone at all. No, my fan club were in fact falling about pointing and laughing.

The only fact I accepted was that much like Vuvuzelas, the skill required to ride these demon contraptions from hell was reserved for 8 and 5 year olds and not their forty-ish year old mothers.

I will challenge early? Pah. I challenged alright, every law of physics and discovered that gravity has much stronger pull when you are trying your damndest not to land on your arse on a flagstone floor.

However this board has changed me. While my right butt cheek used to match the left, it is now proudly sporting a fresh blue bruise complete with the pattern of the floor grouting. It's a unique bruise though. Gotta look at the bright side now don't we?