What is ice blocking you say? To my Colorado peeps, let me explain.
Y'see, in Southern California there are no seasons. (A rainy day here and there does - not count as a season. Also, "earthquake weather" - not a season.) Without snowmen to make and leaves to jump into, how do kids entertain themselves?
Frankly, one can only go to the beach so often and nobody is better at creating fun stuff out of nothing than bored suburban kids. This is how skateboarding down metal handrails and empty swimming pools became an art form. This is also how Ice Blocking was born.
It's very simple:
- Buy giant blocks of ice from supermarket, liquor store or iceman.
- Grab thick beach towels.
- Cruise parks and golf courses for grassy knolls.
- Carry the blocks to the top of the hill.
- Fold a towel and place on an ice block.
- Plant ass on the block.
- Slide down the hill, avoiding trees, and laugh.
- Carry the block back up the hill in the towel.
- Repeat until the cops come and tell you knock it off.
So, when I am in SoCal, I usually get to visit one of my favorite families, The Lawlers. I went to high school with Debbie, the ultimate surfer/skateboarder chick. I knew her husband, Greg, separately - still one of the funniest men I know. When they married, I knew that cool adorable kids would soon follow.
They did and now there are four extremely funny, talented and lovable people that I get to hang out with. That they live less than a mile from my mother's house makes it super easy.
Last time, we all went toiletpapering - another SoCal tradition and, in my day, intended as a compliment to the recipient. This time, it was Ice Blocking, something I haven't done since the mid-80s with Greg and his buddies. (Sadly, Greg was out of town for this adventure - bummer.)
I had such a blast with Debbie, Nate, Tanner, Hannah and Nate's friend, Jack, that my youthful flashbacks were energizing. Jack and I shared one block and ended up ass-over-head in one fabulous burnout. Hannah and I raced our blocks to the bottom and neither of us fell off! This was a personal best for me.
After many icy runs down the hill, I ducked into some dark bushes for a pee break. Walking out, young Hannah ran up to me, breathless and giggling: "IT'S THE FUZZ!!!" Aaaah, Johnny Law had finally arrived, right on time. Even the gruff cop from the Cerritos Sheriff Department could not dim my mood, in fact, it made me nostalgic. If he hadn't arrived, the evening would not have been complete.
I'm looking forward to the next Lawler (lawless?) adventure pulled from my youth. Perhaps oil pump riding?