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The Death of Innocence Part 1

I hate Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad that Jesus was born to a virgin for mine and your sins, but I hate Christmas. For that matter, while we are at it, let’s throw celebrating Easter with Easter Bunny in there as well. Ever since I was a young child, nothing but disappointment has happened on Christmas or Easter.


I have had some great ones, with minimal disappointments. Actually, every Christmas and Easter was great except for the ones during 2nd grade. That year ruined everything. We remember life by things that are not expected. When things go as expected, then it just turns ho-hum. The disappointment, though, that I feel every day because of these 2 days out of my life is ginormous. I still talk about it on a weekly basis. It’s probably one of the main reasons I started getting high.


By the time I was 8, I had to defend Santa Clause and The Easter Bunny to multiple people, including my girlfriend (we held hands on the steps at school). Tell me they are fake if you want to; I’d go to the mattresses over stuff like that. From November 1 until after Easter was over, each day I had to argue the facts that they were both real. I never took a day off. At this point in my life; my priorities were 1. Michael Jordan 2. Santa Clause 2A. Fire 3. Easter Bunny 3A. Aliens. These things were what I lived in the day, and I lived as an inter-galactic fireman at night. I was tired. As Christmas approached, I only wanted one thing; it was all I talked about. Once again, irrationality reared its ugly head.

My parent’s house is about 150 yards down a gravel driveway from the road. Even where they parked their cars was rocky. There was no asphalt anywhere. The only thing I wanted for Christmas was a skateboard. Everyone was wearing jeans that could fit over trashcans and riding skateboards. It was gonna make me as cool and my Air Jordan XI’s made me jump high. My mom wanted to know if I wanted my big gift from her and my dad, or if I wanted to let Santa give it to me. In my family, we would open presents Christmas Even night, and Santa would leave unwrapped presents on Christmas morning. Since Christmas Even meant I could get my board out on the gravel sooner than Christmas morning; I chose Christmas Eve. I was so excited. Surely I would get it; it wasn’t an expensive present. I couldn’t wait.


This also meant the gift would be wrapped under the tree. I was gonna get to shake it, look at, and marvel on how I was gonna learn to do an ollie and grind it right into a piece of limestone. I was ecstatic when I found out my mom had wrapped my gifts one night after I went to my bed to begin my nightly war. When I went to do my preliminary present-shakes, I was confused; none were really shaped like a skateboard.


Surely I was confused. How could this be? (This was where the last shed of reason flew completely out the window). Then I saw a box… Maybe? Could it be? This box appeared to be a complete cube with each side being around 11 in X 11 in. This box had to be it. I shook It. It had some weight to it. I just knew, this had to be it. I was so excited. This made me begin to talk about it even more. I was a week from Christmas and was pumped. It only took me 5 seconds, to convince myself that I must not have heard about the new foldable skateboard. This was the 90’s; technology was really moving thanks to Al Gore.


Everyone just went along with my insanity. They knew, short of breaking my tiny heart, there was no stopping my delusion. I wanted a skateboard. They must have created a completely new kind of skateboard for me, and my mom and dad got it for me. What a lucky kid.

I went to bed Christmas Eve Eve night trying to figure which present was my helmet and pads. Maybe, Santa would bring that stuff; he knew that my parents already had the skateboard handled. When it came time to open presents, I knew exactly which one I wanted to open first. The box I had been staring at for over a week. The next step of my transformation into Tony Hawk was beckoning me. Somehow, I had gotten out of my parents that this was my big gift, so I knew it was do-or-die. (This is where something called reality slapped me in my little kid face). When I ripped open the box, I was shocked to find a globe.


Are you kidding me? A globe? How could I ever be a Ska8erBoi if all was gonna be doing was spinning a globe. I was crushed. My parents knew what I wanted. Everyone in my life knew that not only did I want a skateboard; I was getting a skateboard. I couldn’t believe Santa hadn’t vetoed this globe idea. I was gonna be mad at him forever. Well, at least until Easter.




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