Skate or die

One reality television show (and I swear I don’t watch that many…okay, maybe I do…which I haven’t learned to accept yet so don’t make it a pointed observation) that I really enjoy is Roller girls. I also secretly want to join and even considered it when one of their recruits invited me to a meeting in Indianapolis.

One reason I wanted to join is partly due to my competitive nature. Another reason is because I can’t seem to drive in traffic, go to the grocery store, or open a stubborn door in our house without wanting to injure someone. As we get older, the opportunities to make physical contact with another person dwindle (and I’m not talking about physical contact in that sense, perv). There is some Chuck Palahniuk/Fight Club logic wrapped into this urge -- we’re not pretty snowflakes; we are products of consumerism and one way to strip the façade may just be to slam each other into walls. Plus, they get to wear fishnet garters and heavy eyeliner, which is pretty damned cool. Also perhaps there is some residual angst from my elementary school crush choosing Tonya instead of me during the couples’ only roller rink song, Def Leppard’s “Love Bites.”

When I told Toombsday about Indy’s roller derby, he tried to be the voice of reason while remaining supportive: “You only weigh 100 pounds. You might be really fast and could shimmy through women the size of defensive lineman. But you only weigh 100 pounds.” It’s more like 115 pounds, but I get his logic. I tried to skateboard when I was in high school. After a couple of months with a bruised bum and a bruised ego, I couldn’t understand the logic. I conferred with my peers regarding the progression of learning how to skate, which is easily summated:

1. Pick a trick that you want to master.
2. Slam into concrete numerous times until you master the trick. This may involve slings and concussions.
3. Once mastered, repeat steps one and two.

It didn’t make sense; therefore, I abandoned it -- which would probably be the same with roller derby. I'm probably better off with yoga and Pilates. Alas, I won’t be buying any new wheels any time soon…or tattoos, or hair extensions, or Manic Panic (an Indian in GothWhite doesn’t look that great anyway). But still remain supportive of the roller derby movement in the Midwest, which brings one question to mind: If an activity’s roots claim to be alternative or anti-commercial, but gains notoriety and a following due to commercial promotion, what does this say about the intrinsic value of that activity? I know, I know…you’re asking, “Does it really matter?” And you’re right, especially when the activity includes women in plaid skirts beating the tarnation out of each other while skating backwards at twenty miles an hour.