Pres

Pres, not a real name, not by law at least, but real to me. The name Pres (pounced press) was taken on by me as a teen, during a time when I was submerged in the world of urban art—graffiti, vandalism some might say. The name has several meanings; the primary is drawn from my love of the martial arts.

At the time I was studying pressure points of the body and how they affect everything from the mobility to overall health of the body. During a sparing match with one of my friends, the meaning of this name took on life. My friend, a much better boxer then me, had me out matched until I stuck a pressure point on his upper torso sending him to the floor. At that very moment the name which was originally short for Presto, connected with my love of the martial arts.

However this was not the last Evolution of my name. The youngest of the four siblings that lived with my father I struggled to match the image of my older, tougher, brothers. Years went by, and I began to realize that just because I was living in the ghetto I didn’t have to be a product of it. Hanging out, smoking weed, and tagging, was not something that appealed to me, so I sought solace in my humor.

One of only three skateboarders in the area, remaining true to myself and what I saw as a fun time was under constant scrutiny. “People think that you’re crazy Pres!” a friend once told me, as I was skating in front of the apartment complex I lived in. It was that statement that sparked the evolution; the word was now an acronym. Pres, Persistently Resisting Environmental Stress! A stress brought on by the very streets I skated. Stress to walk a certain way, talk a certain way, think a certain way, and saddest of all, live a certain way! In short, I had to fight the subtle attack of my peers telling me that I had to become a product of what I hated so much.

That was Jest; Jest was the one that was willing to be the product, the fool, that was the name I used before Pres. Jest was the clown, the one that made the tougher guys laugh, and once I realized that I was their fool I replaced the name Jest. It was only a few days after the name change that my sparring match happened, after then no-one called me Jest.

Self confident, not needing the group I met the other two skaters of his city. Together us three would scrounge any bit of money we could get, buy train tickets to Manhattan and skate, from sun up, to sun down., ka-kunk ka-kunk ka-kunk ka-kun, along the city streets, free, that’s’ what we were, free. A conscious skate boarding graffiti artist from one of the worst places in New Jersey, yeah, that’s me, Pres.

I’m going to stop this entry at this point; oh that’s a summary of ages 14 thru 17, if you like what you’ve read so far and want to learn more feel free to add me to your list.

Peace!

PS

I haven't proofed this, please pardon my errors.