Floridian: Dude, it's a republic

Dude, it's a republic

By LANE DeGREGORY

Coming Friday: Looking at history -- from Tomorrowland

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GULFPORT -- Every afternoon after school, the skate rats invade Gulfport. Noses sailing down the spine at the concrete park, neon wheels racing down the rail, tearing it up, laying it down.

"I was in New York this summer, dude. And their skate park ain't nothing compared to here," says Demetrius "Demi" Houston, 14. "They had this real tight box, not long and fat like ours, no good."

Acid metal bombards their brains, Insane Clown Posse, Twisted and Godsmack grinding through their headphones. Cherry Powerade stains their lips. Nine boys, ages 7 to 17, sweating out adrenaline, vying to be faster, braver, badder than their buddies.

New guys back off for better skaters, regulars dis squids who can't shoot the pipe. Like most rival groups, they attack to prove, to defend -- music, movie stars, whether McDonald's fries whip Burger King's, whether that matters. The only thing most seem to agree on is anarchy.

And skateboard legend Tony Hawk. He rules.

"If we didn't believe in anarchy, he'd probably be king," says Nathan Brumer, 15, one of the smallest and loudest boys. Nathan became an anarchist in sixth grade, after a friend told him what the word meant. "It sounded cool," he says, rocking on his board. "I don't want any rules."

He won't wear a helmet, despite the threat of a $50 fine. No knee pads, bare elbows, black Vans without laces. He hates politics as much as he does inline skaters. Never paid attention to the presidential election, even while it held his TV captive. He knows Bush won, eventually. Can't remember who else ran.

"We'd rather talk about weed. Isn't Bush supposed to legalize pot or something?" asks Brian Brunick, a freshman at Boca Ciega High.

"Who told you that?" asks Chris Kowal, 14. "Dude, you're misinformed."

Chris watched the election coverage for 15 days, then got bored and gave up. If he had been old enough, Chris would have voted for Gore. "He's more peaceful than Bush. Bush pushes the issues, likes to push buttons, even about that stupid spy plane," he says, rolling after Nathan, trying to make him care. "Dude, if we have another war" -- this is before Sept. 11 -- "the world would blow up, you wouldn't need your anarchy."

"Yeah, but our president's an idiot," Nathan says. "He makes all Americans look stupid."

"You know who was a cool guy?" asks Gray J. Wiley, 14. "Martin Luther King. Before he got shot."

"Yeah, he was straight," says Demi. "And what about that dude who invented peanut butter?"

"Who? George Washington Carver?"

"Yeah, I'd like to shake that guy's hand."

An ice cream truck pulls up, jangling its bells. Six boys race for it, elbowing each other to get there first. Chris and Nathan hang back, broke, hoping to bum a popsicle off someone.

"I don't get why they didn't count all the votes, and why they can't just let you vote online, instead of messing with all those butterfly ballots and hanging chads and stuff," Chris says. "And didn't Gore actually win the popular vote, but that electoral college thing went the other way? What's up with that?"

"Democracy is screwed. That's what I'm saying," the young anarchist proclaims.

"We don't live in a democracy, dude," Chris corrects him. "The United States is a federal republic."

"Whatever, man. The only dude I'd ever vote for president -- like I would vote -- is Tony Hawk. He can do a 900," says Nathan.

"Plus, he's old enough. He's got to be at least 30."

"Get serious," Chris says, showing him the hand. "The president's got to have a really good way of deciding things. He's got to be fair, give reasons and explain stuff. My dad would make a much better president. And he's older: 45."