Oh, to be a kid again.

Anyone who's darkened any one of my particular corners over the last 18 years behind the pulpit of avoiding the bummer life is aware of my stance regarding being kid in the vacant lot. 

We've all been that kid. Or at least perhaps some of us have been a kid adjacent to that kid, and we learned later in life about the power and freedom associated with riding bikes with friends, stopping to look at critters in the creek, and being late for dinner.

My vacant lot was on the corner of Snowshoe and Manitoba in Evergreen, Colorado;

We built jumps up until the time construction started on a house there, and then we built jumps on and around it too. The world was only limited by our imagination, and occasionally Jason and Sean's strict Jehovah's Witness parents who always were the governor on the stupidity and shenanigans we could find out there in the woods.

But something shifts when you become a young adult, and eventually, an older one. Things become serious. There's college to attend, there are careers to begin, perspective love interests to meet, families to start, etc. and so on. 

Maybe you were still riding bikes throughout all of that, or maybe you rediscovered the freedom a bike presents in the midst of it, but these days, bikes are serious business. They cost a lot, and you need all of the accessories to ride them, not to mention the abundance of specialty tools with which to keeping them running. Then the following season's hotness comes along, which satisfies you only until you see what comes next.

What would the kid in then vacant lot think about all of these trappings?

Does more, cooler, lighter, fancier, wiz-bangier equate to more fun? As one who has committed their life to jumping fences, and lurking in those proverbial vacant lots, be they paved, or not, I would offer a resounding nay.

I don't have much figured out in life, but one thing of which I am absolutely certain is that one should never stop playing. Having said that, it was like an absolute fever dream when I finally laid hands on my newest/oldest obsession (though not the full sized 'Space 1999' ship, I'm afraid);

-In fact, it's the 45th anniversary edition of SE Racing's OM Flyer;

I discussed this to some length in last week's episode of Revolting, but the long and the short of it is I've been jibber jabbering about this bike for a year or three, and simply in order to shut me up, an individual hollered at me and said he tracked one down at a BMX shop in BC called Rock Bay BMX. I've in touch with the shop's proprietor for months, but finally a friend who happened to be in the province's capital heard my cries for help, and grabbed it for me. After procuring it, Wakeman from House of Looptail hooked me up with a set of his 26" Snakebelly tires, and I was literally off to the races;

I ditched the stock tires because I think tan walls are dumb, and I'll likely dump the saddle as soon as I find one I like better, and if I had an extra twelve Benjis would snag me this here super pack;

Or at the very least, PK's plate itself;

I'm absolutely lost in the sauce.

As nice as it was to be in Portland over the weekend and see all the pretty things, I've never missed one of my bikes before until now. I have it bad for this thing and while my tabletops will never be as flat as Timmy Judge’s;

-in my mind they will be, and when playing in an empty lot, fantasy is the house I live in.

And sort of speaking of which, Bob Scales of Product of Bob Scales hollered at me before this recent custom bike show/absolutely soul crushing sweat box thing that happened in Portland last weekend and asked if I'd like to include some wares to sell in his booth. Never one to miss the opportunity to spend a shit ton of money in order to make none, I reprinted my favorite three of the six AHTBM zines, as well as a short stack of that one about the typewriter;

They are 100% guaranteed to make a boring afternoon at least five to twenty-four percent less so. 

Finally, I now offer the brand newest episode of Revolting;

Once you get that handled, call your friends, and don’t dawdle as you make your way to the vacant lot.