A Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie story
“What if…” I posed, “you had a skateboard you loved more than all the world?” I was talking to the Skatepunk, of course. He and My Lady Disdain, his sharp-tongued girlfriend, had met me at Duffeeland Dog Park in the late afternoon. They were snuggled into each other on the bench across the walk from mine. Naso was slowly meandering behind a dog she fancied, I hope immersing herself in a scent that smelled like home to her, a long-forgotten aroma of everyday perfection.
“When you skate on that board, every move you try comes easy. And when you compete, you always win. You tinker with it constantly, always keeping it tuned to perfect performance. You love it so much you have dreams about it.”
“You think you’re joking,” said My Lady Disdain, “but he has that skateboard.”
The Skatepunk smiled, half proud, half bashful. “I only bring it out for big events.”
“Can I borrow it?”
“I’ll take good care of it.”
“You can’t even skate.”
“But I’m going to Las Vegas when Naso dies. I think it would be cool to cruise down The Strip on a really bitchin’ skateboard…” I grinned so hard it hurt.
When he had stopped laughing, the Skatepunk said, “I don’t share that board with anyone.”
I nodded. “Now you understand extra-marital sex.”
WTF?! Both of them.
“Take that deck down to the skatepark, and don’t just share it, offer it up to anyone. Let anyone who wants to take a ride. If they scratch it, so what? If they beat it up, who cares? If they ruin it forever, what difference does it make?”
The horror on his face was a wonder to behold, and here’s why: You don’t understand something until you do, particularly if you’ve been lied to about love and sex all your life.
“If you have two women in your bed, together or one at a time, you cannot possibly love either of them, not in the way that we have been talking about love. Your wife can’t be half-precious to you. If you share your woman with another man, it could only be because you prize her quite a bit less than you do your best skateboard. And if you’ll let anyone hop on for a ride, that’s not love, that’s indifference — or worse.”
Continue reading this story at Amazon.com
Volume One of The Naso Diaries