👋 Hi, I'm Nicholas Roberts. I create and perform music and write this daily blog about creativity, culture, and my life.
I live in Los Angeles with my wife and golden retriever.
Email me: hello@nicholasroberts.io
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Tech decks, or fingerboards, have been around since the 1960s.
They're finger-sized skateboards that you can manipulate with your hands to perform tricks, just like a real skateboard.
Originally, skaters would make their own out of cardboard and the wheels from toy cars. In the 1980s, they were sold as novelty keychains in skate shops.
Fast forward to 1999, and the modern Tech Deck was born.
Tech Decks aren’t fancy, often costing less than $5 each. Although, some custom fingerboards can cost hundreds of dollars.
If you grew up in the 1990s, there's a good chance you either owned a Tech Deck or knew someone who did. They dominated pop culture alongside the Tony Hawk Pro Skater video game franchise.
After I moved away from home at 18, my Tech Decks, along with all my other toys, went into a big blue storage bin, never to be looked at again.
Fast forward to two years ago.
I went to Target after a particularly rough dentist appointment and meandered to the toy aisle. I'm sure part of me was just looking for a little comfort and nostalgia from seeing childhood toys to ease my dental pain.
I didn’t want to go to Target. I wanted to come straight home.
But my wife had been encouraging me to reward myself for risks I take.
I decided to buy a $3 Tech Deck as a reward to myself for facing a difficult dental visit.
I cracked it open at home and started trying to ollie and kickflip between books and countertops, putting dents and scratches in the furniture along the way.
I wasn't very good that first day. In fact, I'm still not. Despite two years of practice, I’ll never make it to the USA Fingerboarding League.
But I'm the proud owner of 6 Tech Decks. Rather, I've conquered my fears 6 times.
Whenever I'm feeling anxious or overwhelmed, I use my skateboard to re-center my attention. To serve as a reminder of what's possible. Of overcoming my fears.
Next up is my actual fear of skateboarding.