Broken but Unbowed

 A month ago on my birthday, I maintained the tradition of doing my age in frontside grinds. There were no pools to be had, so I made do with the pool coping on the Orchard mini ramp. Skated with Dug and two kids, and I'm not sure what they made of my frontside frenzy, but they seemed cool with it. I made my 45, with one or two extra for good measure. I dropped in to do a frontside rock on the extension my next run, something I've done a bunch of times before, and watched as my front foot slid off my nose. I slammed super hard to my right shoulder, and thought I dislocated it. Couldn't get up off the ramp for 15 or 20 minutes. The guys made me a sling, and Dug took me to the ER. They said it was a small crack in the humerus, and that I had to go see an orthopedic surgeon the next day. Percocets helped that night. Next day, orthopedic surgeon in town says I need more x-rays, so I walk uphill, about a mile, in the snow. Then walk back, to find out that it is cracked all the way through. He'll be gone when I get back from my trip, so he says go see another ortho. He takes more x-rays, gives me a script for straight oxycodone without tylenol, and sends me on my way.

The next day I fly to Phoenix. Get wheelchair assistance, as I am out of my gourd. Check in at my hotel, and since I requested a room with a tub, it overlooked the pool we skated a few years ago when they were remodeling the hotel. Meg arranged a caregiver to give me baths every two days. Humbling.

Do some record shopping and hanging out. Went to Vargas' and noticed this: cover art from the Clash's "Give 'em Enough Rope". Someone scanned it and photoshopped the background, but I posted it as the original artwork for the record on Instagram and Facebook, and got some "No ways!", etc. I'm a dick.

 Hoss sent me this gem, the jizzmobile with Santa driving.

 Taylor found this at a thrift shop for a buck. I opted out of the viewing, but I understand in generated some (deserved) chuckles.

 Dinner with some of the AZ crew, miss these folks. O'Douls allowed me to stay on the heavy medicine and have something in my hand.

 First day in Seattle, I take the bus into town. Both my dad's cars have manual transmissions, so I can't take them. First stop, Pagliacci on the Ave. Overheard the guy behind the counter telling someone they'd been open 35 years. Thought to myself I'd been going there for almost that long. Good 'za.

 Bussed it to Fremont, and dug through the crates at Jive Time. Only got a couple records. Morris came to pick me up, and we boogied to Marginal Way.

 This place is shaping up, and has come a long way. Dudes there are holding it down. Wish I could've skated, but stoked to have rolled by.

 After family time, Christmas night was spent in Al's Tavern with old friends, and the comforting familiarity of their bloody Native American whale hunt mural. years of good memories in this place -- lived down the street from it for 4 years in the early '90s.

 Homebound, and the mountain was out.

 Dug drove my truck back home -- it had been sitting at his place since the night I broke my arm. Thanks pal!

The night after I got back, the Nervous Eaters played with the Real Kids. Both bands played kinda slowed down, but it was worth it to hear "Just Head" and "Loretta"...

 ... and "All Kindsa Girls", "Bad to Worse," and others. Also found out that the Real Kids' John Felice is from the 'Dick, as is Jonathan Richman!

 Then Snowpacolypse 2014 happened, bitter cold, and 14" or so of snow. I was homebound, but got out every day for a walk. Coldest temps I have ever experienced.

The Turquoise Tortoise is holding its own. Snowed in. Can't drive it anyway, can't ride my skateboard, can't ride my bikes. Four weeks out, my arm is healing properly but it'll be another 2 weeks before I can get aggro on the physical therapy. I try to console myself that since it's so damn cold I'm missing fewer skate sessions. But that thought is outweighed by the thought that I'm missing out on the few sessions that do happen.