The Red Awning

Outside the Loma Mini Mart on Ransom Street, ‘HC’ an infamous group of diverse and devoted skateboarders are parked on their skateboards were cars normally are paralleled next to the curb. They’re kickin’ back and enjoying each other’s company. The assortment of shoes looks like a row of ‘back to school’ customers at Foot Locker. Fitted with proper toe room, there’s room to grow. The green strip along the top of the convenience store advertises “Beer, Wine, Cigarettes, ATM and Phone Card”. These everyday items are first on the list. Expendables breed dependence. So close to going back. Do more without. It’s none of my business. Oil stains both blotchy and permanent have formed on the blacktop from leaking engines. Sometimes you do not know the full potential of something until you move past it and reverse into the spot. Low to the ground, parallel parked in the scene in the Buttermobile that keeps flashing signals. There’s an advantage here: it’s the angle at which you enter the space that makes all the difference. The angle creates the most pleasing lines. Flat shoe laces, rarely tangled has supreme orchestration.

The red awning shelters the entrance way above the rusted metal security door. Its striking accent sticking out of the exterior two-tone wall is like a tongue willing to speak life over death. After all, the accent of the truth initially sounds foreign; however the truth becomes both familiar and a friend when you realize it’s not about you. In the Gospels, Mark by the power of the Holy Spirit wrote, “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” It’s neither convenient to be exposed to the closely-knit skateboarders of Long Beach, nor easy to expose their lives for greater understanding of the subculture as well as who I am becoming.