I wake up pissed.
Who knows why?
Guesses include many far-flung scenarios: A dream I don’t remember, the flash of something lame I have waiting for me (dishes, a missed appointment, an unpaid bill), or it could just be something I ate and/or drank and/or both.
Roadside attractions. Jason Adams gets far flung. Photo: Jon Humphries
Sure, I wake up happy sometimes. But honestly, I don’t know anything about that, either. I’ve tried all the tricks—dream control, responsibility squared, being a healthy consumer of consumables, and none of it works works one way the other.
So I’ve given up trying to make it happen (or not happen). Instead, I’m taking notes, getting ready to battle, and hoping to find some insight somewhere—anywhere. But my practice in the madness of lists, rituals, and superstitions hasn’t ever seemed to help me in all these years of skateboarding, so I’m not holding my breath for any kind of mood-control breakthroughs.
Still … notes, battle, etc.
Get back(lit) to where you once belonged. Gilbert Crocket kicks one into the practice of madness. Photo: Anthony Acosta
One thing’s for sure: I have to keep doing something. Because while I’m sure that if I’d just stop doing everything, I’d stop waking up mad at the world. But it follows that I’d also stop waking up happy and going to sleep happy and just being happy … which I like.
Daewon Song totally blue it. Photo: Anthony Acosta
If I stopped everything for the sake of throwing off the shackles of waking up pissed, the skating would also stop. No more five-0s. No more Smithers, no more carving, or turning, or new spots, or first tries, or watery eyes. There’d be no more goofy times trying to learn poop airs, grinning moments seeing someone else rip, or toothless instants laughing it off … which I also like.
So in the interest of just continuing to wake up, I’ll chance being pissed off at new trucks, new shoes, a swollen elbow, a dehydration headache, and a whole other list of aggravations. They too will pass and give way to something I like. Who knows why?
When push comes to shove, pull also comes to push. AVE and Dill get towed into heavy surf. Photo: Michael Blabac
I will give up on the rhymes and reasons, though—of which there are none—and raise my chipped and cracked mug to you. Drink whatever it is you drink, keep waking up, and try to hold form when you push.
Cheers to continuing … with the notes, with the battle, and with the etcetera.
Listen to Jason Adams’ “Boys Do Cry” Romantic-Rock-Rhythms Playlist
