Full, Empty, And Otherwise

Sitting in our living room. Miles is sick. Cian's watching Indiana Jones. Cheryl's doing school work. Hubble's trying to pet himself by nudging my feet with his head. The place is a total mess and it's all great.

I was out in SoCali for about a week and there was a ton going on—appointments, meetings, driving, we had a secret party for the YBAm, I got to witness some Bones Brigade doc interviews, scoped out a bunch of good examples and bad examples for phase two of the Donuthill, made business + pleasure visits to Skate One and Stacks, plus all the daily attention that my actual job needs from the road. I was still pretty crippled from my knee injury, too ... still am, actually. There were times when it seemed like more than a lot, but it was warm, it was sunny, there are a couple good coffee places right by Pat's house, and each and every single day was full with hand shakes, hugs, and high fives from family and good friends. Can't really ask for anything better.

And I'm back.

I wouldn't ever consider myself an optimist, but there sure is a lot of stuff out there that I enjoy. I like getting out of town, for example, but I also like coming home. I love goofing around but I also love my job. I'm lucky most of the time and I know that can't happen without being unlucky sometimes, too. The glass is rarely half full or half empty. Most of the time it alternates between spilling over the top and being completely bone dry. It's maddening, it's exhilarating, and it's just part of the game.

Good game, though. Right?

Autographed blanks.


















Skate One's Michael Furukawa.

















Staged destruction.