Good Carving and A Great Pair of Loppers

Writers Note: This blog was orginally written on December 6, 2006 but yesterday I ran into Mr. Boan (see story) and it reminded me of this story.....


Good Carving And A Great Pair of Loppers
Today was a spectacular day (December 6, 2006). It was absolutely outstanding. So much so in fact, that during the middle of it I felt that it was so special that I begin writing this blog in my head. By this afternoon I had already decided much of what I had wanted to attempt to capture in words but at the very moment I felt like the day could not reveal anything better a simple sharing of a conversation with a neighbor changed it all.

Here is what this Blog was supposed to be about:

After spending the majority of yesterday working on the condo in Greensboro with my wife and going down to the Milestone in Charlotte to support the boys in Sapco today was to be my day to skate. I had plans to meet Bertman down in Concord and hit a new hill and check out some other spots around town. After getting up early and making the hour drive to the town I grew up Bertman and I had an awesome morning down hilling session on this super long 4 lane wide hill that had a nice grade and was close to ½ mile in length. We also checked out some other hills around Concord and out at the Charlotte Motor Speedway. It was great to be riding with a new rider who I had met through the internet and had come to compete in the downhill at the Dixie Cup. Bertman has the stoke and is hooked on skating again after several years away. (Sound familiar?). After showing Bertman a street in town known locally as "Fools Hill" back in the 70's and early 80's we made plans to put on a big session there in December. In a word this hill is SICK. It has the grade of Hobby Park but is twice as long, has a small bend at the bottom, and has a huge hill as the run out. The DHB will be turning out in force for that session I am sure.

I stopped in to check on my father while I was in town before I returned back to Statesville. My dad still lives in the house where I grew up, is retired from three different jobs, but still works over 32 hours a week as a Wal-Mart greeter. He is not your typical door person though, on the contrary. My dad was Greeter of the Year at his store and is loved by all of his co-workers and the regular customers. I give him a hard time because he has added quite the personal touch to his standard duties of handing out the carts, welcoming the customers, giving smiley stickers to the children, and marking returns. When ever he sees a woman he is familiar with from church, around town, or through his volunteer activities, he not only shares a smile but also shares a HUG! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my Dad gets and gives more hugs in a shift of work that most of us get in weeks! For 80 years old Tom knows how to work it!

After the visit and a stop a local eatery (The What-A-Burger) to catch a tasty but unhealthy burger I returned in the early afternoon to Statesville. Emily was out of town. Hannah was sleeping off a slumber party from the night before that had little slumber and a great deal of party, and Donna, her normal workaholic project freak self was back in Greensboro painting the cabinets we had sanded the day before. I found myself free to do what ever I wanted and decided to grab another one of my boards and just skate about the neighborhood. I grabbed my Landyachtz Evo with Randal 180's, and 97 mm Flywheels, my helmet, and set off to just carve the neighborhood streets. I live in the historic district in town and within a block of my house are four very good hills of various lengths and grades. On my initial run it hit me that this day of skating was the first one in at least eight months where I was not practicing or racing. It was at this point the blog began to materialize in my head. I realized that rather than doing everything in my power to get to the bottom of the hill as fast I could I found myself actually going as slow as possible. Each run I took big wide sweeping carves with as much style as a 6 feet tall, 220 lb skater could exude. I found myself smiling at every turn and remembering why I was drawn to this sport in the first place. You see, skating for me back in the day was all about the simulation of surfing. Growing up poor and 200 miles from the ocean I only got to surf on those rare occasions we headed down to the coast for a family camping trip at the beach. Like many other skaters, a skateboard, a good hill, and some nice carves with style, all combined to make me feel like I was a surfer. Here I was today with that same flashback feeling and it was making me grin. To use my much overused phrase, Yes, I was STOKED!

This is what the blog was supposed to be about. Riding my board for FUN! Simple, pure, fun!.....but then, on the walk back up Kelly Street the conversation took place and well, in a paraphrase of Paul Harvey, here is the rest of the story :

Our neighborhood is a beautiful mix of homes built around the turn of the 20th century and the 20's, 30's and 40's, all surrounded by massive oaks, maples, and pin oaks, which over the last couple of weeks, have shed their last remaining leaves, requiring many a rake session by the neighbors. This day was no exception and the warm weather had several people out in their yard performing the Fall ritual. One of those people was Mr. Boan (Pronounced 'bone"….Mr. Boan upon introduction brought this to my attention, " Some people pronounce it "beau ann" but I prefer "bone"…..this rolling off his tongue as though it had always been apart of who he was).
He was about halfway up the block and was standing on the side walk using loppers (a limb cutter at the end of two handles) to cut a pile of limbs he had obviously trimmed up from around his yard to a shorter length for sidewalk pick up.
As I passed by him I said, "You know the man that invented the loppers knew what he was doing. You can get a lot of work down with a good pair of loppers."
Well, you would have thought I had asked this man about his grandchildren. His face lit up like a Christmas tree as though it were actually he that had invented this yard tool. He smiled back at me and said, "Yes, you're right but I actually made my pair better." With the pride of a father showing off his child, he held up his loppers to reveal that he had made a major alteration to the handles by replacing the stock wood ones with two metal pipes extending the lengths by over a foot. "With this added length and strength to the handles I can actually cut through bigger branches with much more force" and with this phrase he demonstrated it for me by snapping a 2 inch diameter limb as though he was a using a good pair of scissors on rice paper. He beamed as he watched my reaction to his improved loppers. It was impressive I must say.
For several minutes our discussion centered on this obvious enhancement of his limb cutter but as conversations go with me more often than not it digressed into various topics. Mr. Boan, it seems was a retired electrician who had done some work for my back fence neighbor, had a daughter who lived a couple of blocks west of me, was familiar with the previous owners of my house, and loved working in his yard (which showed…his place is the envy of his neighbors). It that somewhat brief interchange I learned also that his nephew was quite the salesman, that “Martha” my neighbor had used him for electrical work often, and that she was great but he wasn't as sure about “Martha’s” husband (which by the way is a standard joke around our small town, "you live beside the Smiths (names have been changed to protect the innocent)? Isn't “Martha” great?" followed by no mention of "Mr. Smith.")
This made my day. Here I had made a connection with someone I had never met before but hand seen working his yard countless of times. Because I was out just having fun there was no pressure to get back to the top of the hill for another run. I was able to linger there, standing on the side of the road, discussing loppers, family, neighbors and other topics of interest. Flashbacks of my grandmother and her gift of entertaining people with good conversation flooded my mind as Mr. "Bone" and I went through our interchange.<> >Those memories warmed me as I soaked up every word as though I was famished for lack of personal contact with anyone.
As all things must do, so must a good lopper conversation come to an end and I proceeded to finish my walk up the hill more than thirty minutes after I had began, which normally takes five minutes. After finishing the run and working my way back to the house I realized that the day was not about skateboarding. It was about being out and interacting with others. It started out with time spent with a new skating partner Bertman and concluded with Mr. "Bone".
It was once said, "Strong fences make good neighbors." I disagree. From now on, in my mind, what makes good neighbors is a great "lopper conversation".