we were kids.

dropped in place and held back. neighbors with nick pipino (219) 456-4972 and andy stout (219) 456-1510. nicks sister, maria, knew gwar lyrics and hung out with the gangster laos boys at packard park where packard cars used to be made. she wore a blue bandana in her back pocket and threw gang signs up through middle school. caleb conely gave me a bunch of radio shack blank tapes full of punk rock and punk rock songs. he taught me the intro to the black flag song six pack on a broken bass guitar. the amp was up and the speaker, blown. it was 1991, my walkman took size C batteries and wore out my ramones tape. we took the ptc bus to downtown to skate the parking garages both in the rain and during the winters. there wasnt any heat, it was just 10 degrees and we were kids. we snapped king pins and had to walk home in the cold. spring and summer, we walked the tracks down there, broke in to abandoned warehouses and broke broken windows. we made makeshift skateparks out of pallets burnt out tires and delaminating plywood, no nails, no screws. smashed coke bottles in dead end streets, threw snowballs at cars from 6 flights up, and tried to kick street signs. the cops got called numerous times, guns drawn, we didnt try to get away, but every other time.... all we had was us, life was simple. i could skate to school. i hung my skateboard in my locker.