If you were to tell me as a kid that one day, I'd have to break my bodyboard in half after twenty years of usage, I'd probably break down and cry. Alas, that's what happened on my recent trip to Destin, Florida. But I did not break down.
There was a time in my life (roughly, second grade through fifth) when I was immensely attracted to skateboarding, surfing, and California life. Hell, I even wanted to change my name to Steve because it was much more of a fitting (and cooler) name. Living in states (Louisiana and Texas, respectively) where an ocean with big waves was nowhere close, my mind was frequently facing west.
I did go to California a couple of times during this period to visit relatives, but eventually, my body went in different directions, away from skating and surfing. And I blame puberty -- something I jokingly say ruined my life.
I'd say the aura of skating and surfing really attracted me to this way of life. Yet when I constantly fell down trying t...