Did you ever skate?

I used to make skateboards out of plywood and go down to a roller rink called Skate Ranch and buy just the wheels. We used to skate down this hill called Robert Avenue and it was a great curve and you dug up a lot of speed. It went by our neighbour Mr. Stitcha. He lived in the beauty of the curve, where all the momentum culminated in a beautiful slough of cement. It took you right past his house but as close as you could get to his porch. Mr Stitcha drank to excess. This was common knowledge in the neighbourhood. He had the red face and the red wine stains down the front of his T-shirt. That's like I look now. Anyway it was the only place to get that kind of speed and thrill, so the front of his house became a sort of festival for all the skateboarders in the whole area. On Hallowe'en he had a heart attack and died on his front porch and we were all told he died because we skated by his house and that each and every one of us killed him in our own way. And we were all left with the memory that we all had a hand in his murder. It was like a Shakespeare thing, everybody had their hand on the knife. So I carry this with me, but I just want to say here and now, in Thrasher magazine, that I did not kill Mr. Stitcha. It took a lot of therapy and it took a lot of liquor. Mr. Stitcha rest in peace.

Tom Waits