Eight Wheels Down, Cruising Altitude About Six Feet

At 5'9" rollerskates make me feel like a giant, but yay how the mighty do fall. Rollerskating is a sport that should be reserved for youth, the short, masochists, speed demons, and derby dames with a bone to pick. It's not for the tall, the lanky, the klutzes, even the overly flexible. Yet, time and time again. When a group of friends says, "Let's go have some fun!" "Doing what?" you say. "Rollerskating!" The nostalgia of childhood, 12th birthday parties, holding hands for the first time, or falling into a heap with your best friend comes flooding back. "Okay!"

The roller rink of 2008 hasn't changed much from the roller rink of 1987. It's usually in a bad part of town. In this case, it wasn't good to be hanging out at night, and any bandanas worn needed to be fashioned in Rosie the Riveter style or else be blue. The smell of sweat soaked leather skates and body must hits you as you pay for your ticket. The carpets are patterned not only with circles or swirls, but sodapop and ketchup stains and gum spot dots blackened with wear. Video games are tucked away in some corner, and if it weren't for the fact that there is a dimly lit rink with 70s style disco lights just beyond the lockers, you would think it was a bowling alley.

A particular roller rink in Central Los Angeles near La Brea hosts a monthly skating event for people of all ages. The hours, however, 9pm to 1am, usually lead only nostalgic adults and able-bodied skaters to the whirling dervish madness of carpeted walls and a shiny wooden floor. Wumpskate, as this event is known, raises money for local charities and provides a cool community service. And while each month is themed so that different costumes are sported each month, the skaters haven't changed much since 1987 either.

There is the speed demon who laps you at least four times before you complete one turn on the rink. The figure skater dances past forward and backward with flashy footwork that somehow tricks you into believing later (once you've gained enough confidence) that you could do that, too. There is the show-off, some man or woman who will squat down on one skate with the other stretched out in front of them. Up and down, up and down, they go all night, a figure of athleticism and probably yoga. There are the folks who are just good skaters. They enjoy hanging out with friends. Sometimes, one will skate backwards so they can better talk to the other. These people also seem to have a style and confidence that other people don't have. It's an ease and grace that average skaters wish they had. It's the ability to talk to others at the same time as you skate. Inevitably, there's always the beginner. Some poor schlub who has been dragged out by an evil friend or well-intended loved one. These are the people who are all over the floor. Usually they stick to the walls, but once in a while they gain enough confidence to venture out toward the middle of skate traffic ending up in heaps that all must dodge. These are tricky skaters because it's never known how they're going to fall. When they go down, casualties often go with them. For the average skater, these skaters are a blessing and a bane. On the one hand, you're happy you're not as bad as they are. On the other, if they stumble in your path it's likely you're going down too because you don't quite know how to stop yet.


Now, imagine all of these skaters of all ages dressed in say goth attire....and punk....and 80s whatever. This is Wumpskate. It's home to $1 tacos and water, a $6 entrance fee that covers the skate rental, and a peaceful meeting ground for people who might usually culture clash to embrace both rollerskating and ridiculous dress while coasting to compelling music mixes. The Super Mario Brothers Nintendo theme song over Nine in Nails was a personal fav.

This writer gives Wumpskate two thumbs up and eight wheels down. A month is just enough time to let those knees heal before June's skate. Roll on, my friends, roll on.