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Calc2 
1980: Born to my mother and father as their third son in a suburb of Boston called Needham.
1981: Learn that feet are made for walking, mouth is made for talking.
1982: Move to Medfield, MA and pick out my first girlfriend, Nini. The pimp’n begins.
1985: My brother gets a skateboard and I am imprinted somehow with what will later develop into my path to spirituality. I also begin having a recurring dream of being killed in a car accident on August 16th of my 18th year. It will be a Wednesday, raining hard at the intersection of Mason and Clayton. I will be in a blue car. The dream haunts me and I tell no one.
1991: My brother gives up skateboarding because it is hard and not cool anymore. None of his friends have the discipline to carry on long enough to get good at it and subsequently call it passé. Their loss becomes my gain as I claim the boards. I meet my first Jewish friend in public school and realize that my parents chose the wrong religion. I still got a NES, and that made everything fine.
1992: I enter into fifth grade back in private school and get a pair of Pumps, finally. The wait was long, but all is well until I go hunting through the mud in the creek behind my house. Everyone buys rollerblades. The concrete of my mind is set. “What is the hardest part of being a rollerblader? Telling your dad you're gay.” I am a skateboarder.
1994: Back in public school I am introduced to drug users, cigarette smokers, beer drinkers, fellow skateboarders, and those already participating in sexual acts. This is a very intense change.
1995: I finally put to rest the “Vision Hosoi 3 Hammerhead” and get a board whose trucks are narrow, nose is long, and wheels are small (34mm; what am I thinking?). Kickflips, nose slides, heel flips, smiths and frontside crooked grinds are learned. I now skate with all my time. I enjoy being alone and learning what not one other person cares about. I long only to learn whatever trick is in 411 #12. Matt Reason, Scott Johnson, and Chris Senn become my role models. Truefalse, the philosophy that will be the blueprint for all my future thoughts, is born after I have to grade my own test in eighth grade.
1996: Back in private school and starting trouble with the girls. My persona as a skateboarder is now a good thing as skating has come back into style and I have a polished flow the ‘newbies’ don’t. Truck-locking contests are easily won, as I am the only rider in school who can pop over four. BS heels, 5-0 (BS and FS), BS smiths, fakie tails, cab flips, nollie nose bonk (why do I learn that?), nollie front 5-0s reverts, front blunts, and wallies (finally) are all learned. My trick vocab is getting longer and my group of friends smaller as I spend more time riding then socializing. That summer I build the mini ramp in my back yard. It is overused the first day and remains that way its entire life span.
1997: Sophomore year I watch all the friends I regularly skate with drop their boards in search of ‘the poon.’ Skating takes too much effort to get good at and ‘poon’ was cool. I am fine with that and regress to a unit of three friends that skate six hours everyday, trading driveway ramps. I learn almost all the tricks I can list that year. A profound hatred for drinking and drug use develops after my best friend gives up his board for the bottle. Ironically, I am kicked out of prep school for suspected drug use. The half pipe is moved to a friend’s house, but is never the same.
The month before starting my junior year, I have one of the greatest days of my life followed by one of the worst. I spend that day learning a frontside flip to switch-backside-crooked and frontside-crooked front-cab out. Start as one of the only kids at the park in the morning, but by the end of the day, when I finally land both, the park has nearly 300 onlookers and skaters. Anybody who owns a board and knows how to get down is there, and in front of all those I respect, I land them both back to back. It’s storybook. I go from being the guy who picks his board up for others to pass by to being the guy others get out of the way for. It is “my” high school graduation. The day ends with high fives from the guys I grew up watching locally. I am riding around the park landing every trick I try. Wow this sounds lame. The next day, still buzzing off my high from the night before, I try to ollie off a loading dock and over a recycling bin. Disaster strikes as I tear my foot clean off, or so it feels. I spend the next month off my board, very depressed.
1998: I slowly grow my ankle back to health. I meet up with three other gentlemen. Group Cool™ is formed. It all becomes good as we form a tight bond that lasts to this day. Of my complete school experience, in all the years there, this is the fruit.
1999: That winter I grow the balls to get on a handrail. Later that month I land one for the first time. It is the greatest feeling of accomplishment I have ever felt. No one is there to witness, making the feeling so real for me. I remember a spiritual feeling to the whole moment, like I am demonstrating intangible thoughts by progressing through practice motion. I only really feel that way when alone. I begin to enjoy skating alone and do so quite a bit more. While all of my friends go to tropical locations for their spring break, I go to Mecca (LOVE park, PA). I skate for two weeks at the best spot known to those who skate. It is the time of my life. I spend the days skating with Steve Williams and many other east coast pros. I come back to school bragging to people who don’t know or care how amazing it was for me (only three people at my school skate anymore). I am kicked out a month later (a month before graduating) for driving some boarding students off campus. A 1480 on the SATs and a 1.9 grade point average is too much for prep school to take. I definitely am not taking a damn thing seriously except my board.
1999 Summer: Out of school now for good, I decide one thing, it is time to move as far away as I can get.
1999 Fall – 2000 Summer: I move to Boston. I Waste a year thinking substance abuse is a good way of dealing with current state of depresion. In good news, after returning to the Lou, I meet my wife in a drive-through and begin getting myself into a better condition.
2001: Running a dry-cleaning operation, I discover that I'm going to become a father. About the same time as that, the business goes under. Work some loose jobs in sales before finally resting on a job as a baker for Panera.
2002: See my firstborn come into this world. Work like hell to support a family.
2003: Get married. Work like hell. Sunday evenings, my wife has me skate for therapy and work towards healing the scars of self-medicating.
2004: Buy a Benz. Start writing and doing art for The Frozen Food Section.
2005: Maintain support of the things i seriously dig; wife, kid, the Section, and thought.
dig on yourself little reader. Ain't no one here going to stop, so don't.
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