Ode to Midtown
With about 1.6 million residents and over 48 million annual tourists, the 23 square mile island known as Manhattan can feel congested through-out the day. The sun rises. Commuters, site-seers and venders flood the sidewalks. Joggers, longboarders and cyclists trek along the water. Town cars, traffic cops and slow driving out-of-towners take over the avenues. Then the sun sets. The city is handed over to the partygoers, taxis, bar hoppers, junkies, buses and MTA workers. As the night goes on they begin to fade and the streets begin to empty. Then the night becomes ours.
Skateboarding the streets of Manhattan after midnight is the only way to truly experience the city. Four of us rolling. Skating up 6th Avenue, the old winter worn road vibrates through our torn-up Adidas’. My 53-millimeter wheels can be heard coming from at least three blocks away. Taxis pass but there is not nearly enough traffic to force us on to the sidewalk. We begin to head east on 42nd Street. Less than six hours ago this area was completely covered by people. Now it’s just us.
As we approach Grand Central Station we head north and pop up the sidewalk. Our wheels become silent as we cruise across the seamless marble ground. I look into the back-lit, bronze midtown lobbies as we push up Park Avenue; each lobby occupied by a single guard. I gaze at the arched entrances and the vast amount of marble planters in front of every other building.
A skater’s eye is a unique thing. Always subconsciously studying architecture; analyzing the textures, curves and detailed features of things everyday people over look (i.e. I have never seen a businessman over whelmed by the possibilities of a parking cone).
We cut through the plazas and hit the obstacles as we pass through. The guards will come out and politely tell us to leave if we stay too long. One of us will reply “no prob” or “see you tomorrow” and leave. Security is a vital part of skateboarding in midtown. If they did not exist, skaters would be there all night and miss out on the rest of the city. Security keeps us moving.
Heading down Lexington from lower Midtown is amazing. Pushing slightly downhill and weaving through cabs as we time the traffic lights. Hanging on to the back of trucks to keep the speed. Ollieing manholes. Avoiding the late night partiers as they scream “do a kickflip!” The free ride ends once Lexington run into Gramercy Park. It’s flat ground the next few blocks. It might as well be a steep uphill after being spoiled with the twenty-block cruise.
We arrive at Union Square Park. A few skateboarder friends are there, just messing around. They ask us what we have been up to. Someone responds, “Not much, just skated Midtown.” We stay for a little bit before I walk down the stairs to the subway, heading home shortly before the sun rises. My night is over. It is time to give the city back to the commuters, site-seers, joggers, longboarders, cyclists, town cars, traffic cops, slow driving out-of-towners, partygoers, taxis, bar hoppers, junkies, buses and MTA workers.
Untitled Poem
The world has not ended,
The Sun is just asleep.
Darkness will always pass,
Despite the frozen thoughts.
Just open your eyes,
And watch the Sun rise.
A warm and bright tomorrow awaits,
To melt away yesterday.
Grace Skate Co. Mission
Skateboarders, at one time, were a tight knit group. If we heard someone cruising down the street, we probably knew whoever was rolling, and if we didn’t we were definitely going to go say what’s up.
Someone rolling by these days doesn’t seem to mean anything. We have become socially retarded; saving whatever skills we have at communicating for Facebook or message boards. The sense of community in skateboarding is fading. We are ignoring each others' existences even while skating the same obstacle, or we’re watching the newest skate videos in the dark, alone on our computers.
Skateboarding is obviously alive and well, progressing insane amounts everyday, but that doesn’t mean certain things don’t need to be fixed. We need to get off our computers, hit the streets and stick together. Community is our biggest strength as skateboarders. Lets not let it die.