EPISODE 81: Down For Life

Summary

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Strangers on a Bench: Episode 81 — "Down For Life"

Host: Tom Rosenthal
Guest: Anonymous (Philosopher/Writer and Skateboarder)
Date: March 30, 2026

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Episode Overview

In this reflective and candid episode of Strangers on a Bench, Tom Rosenthal sits down with a stranger on a park bench in front of a thatched building—setting "new ground" for the show. The guest, an anonymous philosopher, writer, skateboarder, and member of a Native drumming group from Pennsylvania, shares a deeply personal journey through ritual, family, skateboarding culture, recovery, and identity. The conversation artfully ranges from the sacredness of rivers to the challenges and liberation of personal reinvention, offering listeners honest insights on addiction, fatherhood, masculinity, and belonging.

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Key Themes and Discussion Points

1. Days of Meaning and Sacred Rituals

• Sundays and River Rituals (01:16–04:47):
  • The guest describes his ideal Sunday, highlighting a ritual of early morning coffee, writing philosophy, and—most sacred—swimming in the river near his Pennsylvania home.
  • Quote: “I try to go to water every day if I can, even when it's cold. But in the summer it’s really wonderful… I sit by the river, pray a little bit, ask the river if I can come in, swim a little bit, maybe see some fish... Say hello to the river, talk to the river a little bit, sit on the rocks, and when the feeling’s right, move on.” (02:47)
  • The river serves as a place of safety, healing, and connection, especially during his sister's illness.

2. Family, Memory, and Breaking Patterns

• Sister and Childhood Memories (06:22–07:18):
  • Fondly recalls mundane moments like riding the city bus with his older sister, who was often mistaken as his mother.
  • Quote: “She taught me you can change, that you can break patterns in families and you can take care of yourself and that's okay.” (07:22)
• Addiction and Recovery (09:13–11:07):
  • Discusses family history with alcoholism and personal journey to sobriety.
  • Quote: “I'm sober now. I had to get to a point where it wasn't appealing... It's very hard to explain because... actively talking myself out of drinking... didn't work very well. But actually just having the appeal gone, not sure I can account for that rationally.” (10:28)
  • Sobriety brings joy in simple things: “I really like water now. Water's so great, man.” (11:32)

3. Identity, Aging, and Mirrors

• Aging and Reflection (12:53–13:40):
  • Relates candidly to being 51 and accepting aging, “Got my gray hairs and my scars and it’s all right. That's who I am.” (12:57)
• Scars and Skateboarding (13:47–19:36):
  • Shares stories about his chickenpox scar, skateboarding injuries, and why skateboarding—“down for life”—remains vital.
  • Skateboarding offered autonomy: “It became my passion and something that was mine. It wasn’t school, it wasn’t from my parents... In skateboarding, if you fall down and get hurt, everybody cheers. So there's something about the activity that appealed to my soul.” (14:50)
  • The pain is “part of it; you're not failing because you’re falling. It means you’re trying something you can’t quite do yet.” (17:45)

4. Anarchism and Community

• Skateboarding as Anarchism (21:07–23:15):
  • Connects skateboarding with a philosophy of rejecting private property and building community: “For me, anarchy starts with a rejection of the nation state, a rejection of the state, but then a rejection of private property... The positive side... is mutual aid, supporting each other, not relying on the government, not relying on the state.” (21:16)
  • Describes arrests for skating and the odd juxtaposition of mainstream acceptance.

5. Native Ritual, Drumming, and Belonging

• Native Community (25:51–29:36):
  • Describes joining the Lenape Nation, participating in powwows, and learning that drumming means “the pulse is for movement. It’s a kind of physical and spiritual connection... the drum represents the heartbeat of the earth, which is your mother.” (26:56)
  • Entry involved humility and joining a month-long river trip, deepening relationships: “By the time the journey was over, we were all friends. And then my friend Mark asked if I wanted to drum. And that’s how it started.” (28:18)

6. Writing, Colonialism, and Personal History

• Philosophy and Colonialism (30:30–32:04):
  • His encounters in Native communities directly inform his anti-colonial writing. He examines his ancestors’ roles in taking native land and explores how to do right by that history: “My second great grandfather fought for the Union and the land in Kansas was native land... I’ve been very interested in that, trying to understand that process and... how do I do right now?” (31:40)

7. Marriage, Love, and Family

• On His Wife (34:00–36:20):
  • Celebrates her intelligence, humor, and energy. Notes origins as graduate student organizers and their contrasting personalities. “She’s just got relentless energy. She's way smarter than me. She's got a wicked sense of humor.” (34:05)
• Fatherhood and Change (37:51–40:04):
  • Being a father was transformative and scary—“being responsible just for myself... then for this human entity that seemed so fragile” and questioning inherited patterns.

8. Masculinity, Approval, and Healing

• His Father & Masculinity (40:04–44:41):
  • Explains his father’s harshness, and his own active choice to break cycles—embracing feminism and gentler masculinity.
  • Quote: “I just want to be a kind, gentle dad. I never wanted my kids to be afraid of me. Never.” (40:04)
  • Father’s death brought release from seeking approval and space to own his positive qualities.

9. Feminism and Rebellion

• Becoming a Feminist (44:41–46:45):
  • Traces his active commitment to feminism back to age 16, debating fiercely with his father: “It’s an active political position that I've taken since I was 16 and had arguments with my father about.” (44:49)
  • Tells a revealing story of his father’s outrage at feminist books checked out from the library.

10. Roots, Memory, and Belonging

• Deepest Memories (49:33–51:15):
  • In a closing exercise, recalls a sensory-rich scene from childhood: Kansas prairies, tall buffalo grass, and flowers, forming a profound experience of place and belonging:
    • “I remember being a kid, walking out and being dwarfed by these grasses... grabbing the grasses and chewing on them… super sweet, almost like sugar. Every couple weeks, a different set of flowers would bloom... [It] was this synesthesia... looked like, tasted like, felt like, and smelled like. And those memories are so strong.” (49:33)

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• On Sobriety:
  • “It was just a crutch, you know, and it’s nice to walk on your own feet after you’ve been using a crutch for a while.” (11:07)
• On Skateboarding:
  • “Down for life. I started when I was 13... rule for a while... if I had to go to the emergency room more than three times a year, I would hang it up. But… still doing it.” (14:47)
• On Community and Anarchy:
  • “The communal positive aspect of anarchism is mutual aid, supporting each other, not relying on the government, not relying on the state.” (21:16)
• On Drumming:
  • “The drum represents the heartbeat of the earth, which is your mother. So, you know, it goes from very simple things like I'm going to pound a stick on a drum, and then suddenly, you know, you're thinking about the whole world and the whole cosmos.” (26:56)
• On Fatherhood and Masculinity:
  • “I just want to be a kind, gentle dad. I never wanted my kids to be afraid of me. Never.” (40:04)
• On Approval and Authority:
  • “Even as I moved on in life, there were other people that were these male authority figures... until I realized, oh, I don’t have to have that at all.” (43:10)
• On Place and Memory:
  • “Even though I'm in Dublin… I think of being back in Kansas.” (51:15)

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Timestamps for Significant Segments

• Ritual of River Swimming: 02:28–04:47
• Childhood with Sister: 06:22–07:18
• Addiction & Recovery: 09:13–11:07
• Skateboarding Philosophy: 14:46–18:55
• Anarchy Explained: 21:07–22:20
• Native Drumming & Ritual: 25:51–28:07
• Writing, Colonialism, and Ancestors: 30:30–32:04
• Fatherhood & Parenting Philosophy: 37:51–40:04
• Reflecting on Father’s Influence: 42:27–43:10; 44:41–45:08
• Sensory Memory of Kansas: 49:33–51:15

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Final Reflections

The episode closes with the guest emotionally processing his presence in Dublin—carrying the weight of ancestry, relief from pre-trip anxiety, and an openness to new connections. He offers a compelling, eloquent perspective explored through vivid memories, thoughtful political commitments, and a gentle humor about the “nobody” status of a stranger on a bench. “I think the next thing is to embrace Dublin and get excited, just finally just be really excited to be here. Meet some cool new people, hopefully.” (52:23)

Tom ends with an original song inspired by themes of river, time, and change, poetically tying together the episode’s exploration of identity and flow.

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Transcript

[Interviewer]

Hello. Sorry to bother you. Can I ask you a slightly odd question? I'm making a podcast called Strangers on a Bench where essentially I talk to people I don't know on benches for 10 or 15 minutes. Are you up for that? Do you want to give it a. Are you ready?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Sure.

[Interviewer]

Me and you on a bench. Only gonna happen once.

[Philosopher/Writer]

All right. All right. In front of this crazy thatch building. Yeah, it's a good place.

[Interviewer]

This is the first time I've done that one in front of a thatched building.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, right.

[Interviewer]

So we're breaking new ground already.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah. Right.

[Interviewer]

Is there a day of the week that you favor?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Not Monday.

[Interviewer]

Let's roll that one out straight off.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Roll that.

[Interviewer]

Monday?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, probably. Sunday is nice, man.

[Interviewer]

What's wrong with Monday?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Just, ah, it's after the best day, so it's gonna be a letdown, you know.

[Interviewer]

Very fair. Let's go back to this Sunday of yours then. Walk me through this Sunday from getting up all the way through to going to bed. What is your ideal Sunday? You know, well, live.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Alright. Well, I have to admit my wife brings me coffee in the morning to wake me up. But in fairness, I'm the one who sets the coffee up at night.

[Interviewer]

Okay, so it's a team effort anyway.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Team effort. Brings the coffee, wake up, go straight to the porch, smoke some tobacco, do some writing, get ready for the day.

[Interviewer]

What are you writing?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Philosophy. Writing a book on colonialism right now. And then go to the river, swim in the river. And then, you know, whatever errands I have, you know, mow the lawn, all that American stuff. And maybe go ride my skateboard with my friends. Five, thirty, something like that. And then make the coffee for the next morning.

[Interviewer]

What part of that day is most sacred to you?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I think going to the water was very, very sacred to me. I live right by a bunch of cricks. I live in Pennsylvania, so that's swimming, coffee. I don't know which I prefer. Those are my two favorite things.

[Interviewer]

Maybe let's focus in on the river. Take me through the ritual of that.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Well, I try to go to water every day if I can, even when it's cold. But in the summer it's really wonderful because it's hot out. So you walk down to the river, which is a couple blocks from my house in Pennsylvania in this tiny little town, and yeah, sit by the river, pray a little bit, ask the river if I can come in, swim a little bit, maybe see some fish. Actually, yesterday I swam at night as well and I imagined a Big sturgeon. Because there used to be sturgeon in the river. And then my friend texts me the next day and says, I just got a sturgeon tattoo. And I was like, okay, so, yeah, say. Say hello to the river, talk to the river a little bit, sit on the rocks, and when the feeling's right, move on to the next thing.

[Interviewer]

When you're talking to the river, you're talking before you get in or whilst you're in?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Both. Both. Kind of gotta ask the river permission, you know, because you're, first of all, putting yourself in jeopardy if you don't respect the water. And then ask the river how it's doing. You know, just like all these plants and trees, you know, how are you? What's going on? And then maybe when you're swimming, whatever messages come to you like a. You think you see a sturgeon, and then it turns out maybe that was meaningful and you didn't know it. So you gotta watch out for the beavers. Cause I went in the other day and the beaver slapped its tail. And then I got in the water and it slapped its tail again. I said, okay, I'm out. Okay. The beavers are warning me. Yeah, they're against.

[Interviewer]

Well, against.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah. They're like, get out of here. This is too close to the lodge.

[Interviewer]

You know, so can a beaver attack?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I didn't want to find out.

[Interviewer]

Yeah, that's fair. That is very fair. Can you think of your most important swim in that river as in a time when you found it most healing?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I think fairly recently, there's been some very important moments because my sister is very sick, you know, and so that weighs on me, right? And a friend told me, hey, you know, when you're on the water, think about being in your mother's womb and think about going to a place of security and safety. And her giving me that advice, swimming and thinking, okay, you know, I'm safe. Somehow it connected me to my sister and to our mother. So I think that was a pretty recent one. I really, really felt that the. It was back in the womb for a moment, you know. So, yeah, see, who knew what you were getting into? Of course, I guess you never know with a stranger on a bench.

[Interviewer]

That's the magic. That's the magic. What's your relationship with your sister like?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Good. You know, my sister, she spent a lot of her life taking care of others, and now she's sick, so it's time for her to prioritize herself. So we text a lot and call a lot, and she visits when she can. So, yeah, we have a good relationship. She's the big sister, so she, she looks out for me, you know, so trying to look out for her a little bit, if I can.

[Interviewer]

If I ask you to transport yourself back to childhood time with your sister, is there a memory that doesn't have to be. I quite like the idea of quite mundane memory. It doesn't have to be dramatic or time with your sister. It stands out.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, there's a couple, but one was interesting because this was when we were living in Kansas City. She's nine years older, and we were going to the library and we took the city bus and two things happened. One was somebody came up and gave us a Bible and said, this is for you and your son. And I just looked at her like, that's not my mom, that's my sister. And then the other one was while I was on the bus, for some reason I was very small. I pointed to a man and I said, why is he so fat? My poor sister had to try to explain and defend and do all that stuff. And yeah, I remember, you know. Yeah. Taking the city bus to the library and getting in adventures with my sister. Mom. She was an older sister who sometimes took on the role of mom.

[Interviewer]

What did she teach you, do you think that your mom, I mean, what did you get from that?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Gosh, man, that was deep. Well, I think she taught me that where you come from and maybe how you've been treated when you're little doesn't necessarily mean you have to follow in those footsteps, that you can change, that you can break patterns in families and you can take care of yourself and that, that's okay. I just got off an airplane and they always say put the oxygen mask on yourself first, but that's decent advice. So I think she's taught me, you know, it's okay to put the oxygen mask on yourself first. Yeah.

[Interviewer]

You mentioned breaking patterns. Can you think of example in your life where you've broken a pattern?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah.

[Interviewer]

I mean, swerve around it or find a new path.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I mean, there's, you know, there's a lot of passion in my family and sometimes the passion becomes a little bit self destructive when people kind of indulge too much in different things. Whether it's, you know, the obvious stuff with drinking or something, or even just being an artist and living on your own and finding a small place in Kansas and not interacting with the world and just becoming too self indulgent with your own project. So I think the habit of just staying Socialized, just getting out of the house and doing things.

[Interviewer]

And so do you put yourself in this passionate bracket?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Hey, hey, hey. I'm, you know, I'm in recovery. I mean, I. Yeah, sure, sure. I mean, I come from a family of artists, musicians, teachers, preachers, and I don't know if I stay humble and if I'm able to not think so highly of myself. And, you know, I'm a teacher as well. Just kind of meet my students where they are and I don't know, life doesn't have to be so serious, you know?

[Interviewer]

I agree.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, yeah. It doesn't have to be. Even though I sit and wake up in the morning and write about anti colonialism, life doesn't have to be.

[Interviewer]

I mean, someone's gotta do it, hopefully.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, right, right.

[Interviewer]

You mentioned you're. You're recovering. Do you say yes from.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Well, you know, I kind of meant that in a broad sense, but.

[Interviewer]

Close to us this week.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, that was close. But. Yeah, but alcoholism is a very prominent thing in my family.

[Interviewer]

And you experience that yourself?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, sure. But yeah, I'm sober now. I had to get to a point where it wasn't appealing.

[Interviewer]

But what was that point?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I don't know. Just a few years ago, it just was like, oh, this just doesn't do it for me. I think just, I just didn't want to be drunk. Just wasn't fun anymore. It's very hard to explain because there were times when I would try to actively talk myself out of, you know, drinking that didn't work very well. That would last for a few months or something, but actually just having the appeal gone, not sure I can't account for that rationally.

[Interviewer]

And how is your life different post that moment?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Much better, man. I mean, no hangovers, first of all. And it was just a crutch, you know, and it's nice to walk on your own feet after you've been using a crutch for a while. So I just feel healthier and happier.

[Interviewer]

Has anything kind of arisen that was kind of dormant

[Philosopher/Writer]

that I like to drink? Water? Water. I really like water now.

[Interviewer]

What is it about water? So good.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, my water's so great, man. You know, you're thirsty, you drink water, you don't feel good, you drink water, you feel better, man. That's like the rule in my house now is like something's wrong. Drink some water.

[Interviewer]

Do you have a special glass you put the water in? Look, I'm gonna drink some water now.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, yeah, cheers. Cheers. Exactly. So, yeah, well, the water from Your own tap. Right. That is amazing. You're traveling and it's like, ah, something's off.

[Interviewer]

That's when you realize that water does indeed have a taste.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Exactly. Yeah.

[Interviewer]

Can you think of what you're. If I came to your house and said, can I have some water? What's your water tasting like? What am I going to say?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I think that's like trying to hear your own accent. You know, I would say I've tried that, you know? You know, or you look in the mirror and you imagine what do I look like to other people? But you can't quite do it. You know, I've, I've wanted, I've fantasized about being a Brit and hearing my American accent or whatever, I don't know,

[Interviewer]

to tell you about it.

[Philosopher/Writer]

No, no, please do not. Please do not.

[Interviewer]

How do you talk about mirrors? When you look in the mirror now, what do you see?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I try not to. You know, I'm 51, so I kind of see an old man, but I'm also happy that I am where I am at 51. So. Got my gray hairs and my scars and it's all right. That's who I am. So. But yeah, you know, sometimes the middle aged male thing, you look and you think, man, when I was 18, blah, blah, blah. But then I think about where I was when I was 18 and I was a puppy dog chasing my tail. Didn't. Didn't know where I was going. So as long as I stay active, swim, drink my water and all that stuff.

[Interviewer]

Pretty good. I think you look very well. You look healthy. So.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Hey, thank you.

[Interviewer]

You mentioned scars. Any notable ones? What's the favorite one?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I guess my chicken pox scar on my nose. And then a couple years ago, I fell right on my head skateboarding and I got a gash on my eyebrow and I had a dumb idea that I would cover it up with makeup. So I went to the makeup store and they did it all up. And my wife's like, what is that? Just put a bandage on it. I was like, no, I'll cover it. She's like, it looks worse now. You know, but skateboarders, we like scars anyway. Badge of honor.

[Interviewer]

Take me through skateboarding. A lot of sports people have a time with it and then they kind of, you know, once they're past a kind of a certain point in their physical prowess moment, they tend to give up these sports. I'm not saying that's good or bad or whatever. It's just what it is. Obviously you still skateboard now.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yes.

[Interviewer]

I'm 51.

[Philosopher/Writer]

We call it down for Life. I'm down for life.

[Interviewer]

That's wonderful.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah. I started when I was 13 and it was something that I could do. I mean, first of all, give you a portrait of Kansas. So there are cities, but mostly it's big fields and it is prairies. So the prairies were formed there when the native people burned the trees so the buffalo grass would grow. So it's just open expanse. There's nothing to do. So you're a teenager and you're bored out of your mind. Right. So somehow a few of us decided we would start riding skateboards and build ramps. And it became my passion and something that was mine. It wasn't school, it wasn't from my parents. You know, I did try playing sports like football and it was just a jock coach thing. And in football and these other sports, when you mess up, you get yelled at. In skateboarding, if you fall down and get hurt, everybody cheers. You got hurt, you fell down. So there's something about the activity that appealed to my soul. And you know, I had a rule for a while when I turned 30 or 40, if I had to go to the emergency room more than three times a year, I would hang it up. But it's only been maximum one or two times a year. So still doing it and still hanging out with the 20 year olds and having fun. Down for life.

[Interviewer]

I love that.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Down for life. Down for life.

[Interviewer]

Really like that. What do the 20 year old think of you? As in what? As in what? What do you, what do you reckon?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Well, sometimes they come up and they say, how old are you? And I'm like, man, don't even. It's two kind of reactions. One is, let's skate. Like no reaction. They recognize other skateboarders. And then the other reaction is like, wow, I hope when I'm your age I'm still doing this. I usually push back against that, but that's just me teasing them. I mean, if I were 20 and some guy with gray hair and scars came up and was skating, I'd be interested too. What's that guy? Stewart? Shouldn't you be playing golf? Like, what's your problem? Why are you out here with us? But we're good family, you know, the skateboarders are kind of, kind of outcast, so we create our own micro community. It's pretty good.

[Interviewer]

That's wonderful. Can you describe what Skateboarding, when it is going well and when you're in some kind of groove, I guess what it feels like,

[Philosopher/Writer]

You should read my work.

[Interviewer]

Have you read a book about skateboarding?

[Philosopher/Writer]

It was just an article so far, but it was about skateboarding and anarchism, and it was basically. I mean. I mean, it is the feeling of flow, of being in a flow state. Also the feeling of using concrete, which usually has been poured for some other purpose in a city. So it's a feeling of being on the margins of a city, usually, and sometimes risking arrest because people like to kick you out of spots. And when you're skateboarding with other people, it's a feeling of pushing each other. So one person will try a trick, and then another person tries one a little harder, and then another person tries one a little harder. And when you fall and get hurt, that's, like, part of it. You're not failing because you're falling. It means you're just trying something that you can't quite do yet. So for me, it's a lot of camaraderie when I'm with my friends and when I'm alone, it's total freedom, like pushing down the street. It's like swimming. It's somehow very, very, very, very primal for me.

[Interviewer]

So do you remember your first go?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, yeah. Wiped out, man. My cousin had a skateboard, and he was older than me. Let me try it. And then, whack. My whole front was gone. You know, road rash, man. Like, let's do some more. Let's do it again. Let's keep. Let's see how this.

[Interviewer]

But it didn't put you off?

[Philosopher/Writer]

No, no. I never did mind getting hurt. I still don't. Which.

[Interviewer]

Do you mind?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Maybe I'm a little off, but see, that's why I never liked playing football. Like, American football. Cause you were. You're hurting the other person.

[Interviewer]

Yeah.

[Philosopher/Writer]

I'm like, no, I'll hurt myself. That's fine. But I don't want to hurt somebody else. Skateboarders, we're, you know, we're masochists, not sadists, I guess.

[Interviewer]

Is it just in the. In the arena of skateboarding that you. You're okay with hurting yourself or just generally? Are you kind of guy that flings themselves around?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I guess I'm a guy that flings himself around a little bit, you know, But I try to keep it within the realm of not burdening my family too much. You know, I've been dying to get a motorcycle, but, you know, not a good idea. Rock climbing. I love rock climbing, but it's calculated risk. How about that? And actually, I just. I'm here in Dublin, and two days ago, I was getting ready to go out for my skate session, and I thought, I don't want to get hurt, and here comes the John Deere. So I thought, okay, I don't want to get hurt. Right before my trip to Dublin, so I was like, I'll just hang out on the porch. And I opened my Instagram and my best friend has broken his tibia. I was like, okay, all right, all right. The right move made the right move.

[Interviewer]

You mentioned it ties in with anarchy.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah.

[Interviewer]

Can you tell me more about that anarchy in your. In your life generally and how you kind of live and practice it?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah.

[Interviewer]

Or not.

[Philosopher/Writer]

So the first thing I would say is that when I think about anarchy, I don't think of rebellion. I think of attack on private property. So for me, anarchy starts with a rejection of the nation state, a rejection of the state, but then a rejection of private property. Property is theft. So for me, skateboarding has an obvious connection. First of all, the way that skateboarders use private property and the way they disrespect private property, and then the DIY movement of taking urban trash and turning it into art. In that sense, I think rejecting property, and then the positive side of it would be building community. So the communal positive aspect of anarchism is mutual aid, supporting each other, not relying on the government, not relying on the state. Doing it yourself. Yeah.

[Interviewer]

That's fantastic. Yeah. And so you must have come up against people doing this. You know, some officials push back.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, constantly. I mean, I've been arrested a bunch of times for skateboarding. I still have at home my first ticket ever, getting arrested for skateboarding at 16. And luckily, my parents just laughed. You know, like, this is hilarious, right? You got locked up for riding a skateboard. So that's kind of Constant. Although between 1986 and 2025, you also have the mainstream movement of skateboarding. So sometimes when I'm skateboarding and somebody smiles at me, I'm like, you know, f you. Why are you smiling at me? You know, you're supposed to hate me, so it's kind of funny.

[Interviewer]

How do you keep the spirit alive away from skateboarding?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, I have a lot of stuff going on. Mostly just family. My two daughters and my wife. Then the native community that I'm part of and the music community that I'm part of. I'm a drummer. I'm part of a native drumming and singing group. We do ceremony together. I get to travel the world for conferences. So I'm here for a conference at University College Dublin on phenomenology and we're sitting here in this beautiful botanical garden and then getting to meet you. This is pretty wild, but, yeah, I just went and laid down. I got off the airplane, laid down on the ground, said, all right, what

[Interviewer]

are you, like, on a plane?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Ah, man, it's terrible. Just fidgety, man. Just fidgety. Stressing about who's gonna sit next to me. Like, looking at every person like, oh, am I gonna sit next to them? Aw, you know, what are they gonna think of me and the elbowing each other? And it was all right. It was all right.

[Interviewer]

Who did you get sitting next to you in the end?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Just a kid. He was sweet. I think he had different norms about the elbow room, but whatever, it's all right. I let him have it. He was a kid. Take it.

[Interviewer]

You didn't give him a little shot.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Take it. Nah, I did a little bit. And then he just looked down like he was so disgusted, like he'd never seen his own elbow. Like, what is that? I was like, okay, wow. So.

[Interviewer]

What is phenomenology?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, gosh, I wish I knew. It's a terrible word for philosophy done from the first person perspective. So, yeah, that word should be deleted from everyone's vocabulary, but it's philosophy done subjectively. So, you know, instead of trying to take this big, impersonal, universal perspective, it's usually about the social world that we inhabit and the experiences we have in the social world. So it allows people to do things like autobiographical philosophy that draws on who they are, but, you know, within their body or within a social world.

[Interviewer]

You mentioned you take part in Native ritual practice, singing. Yeah.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah.

[Interviewer]

Can you tell me what it means to you and what it is and.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, sure. I mean, I grew up in Kansas, right next to the border with Missouri, Arkansas, and Oklahoma, and had gone to powwows when I was young. So powwows are social celebrations. And then a few years ago, I decided I wanted to get back into the community a little bit, and I met folks from the Lenape Nation of Pennsylvania, and they took me in, and we started singing and drumming and then do a lot of ceremony. And it's a really great community of people that's willing to, you know, share their ways and teach. And so I'm an avid learner. Feel blessed to be part of that community, too.

[Interviewer]

What have you. What have you learned?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I mean, one thing about drumming, I'll just say is, like, if I'm sitting at a drum kit and drumming, or if I'm drumming with some jazz musicians, the Music? I do not. Very many people dance, so you're kind of isolated. Everybody's staring at you. They clap when it's at the end, you know, it's a nice experience. But at a powwow or a native gathering, the drumming is always in service of the dance. So you understand that the pulse is for movement. And it's a kind of physical and spiritual connection that I never understood before. And then the drum represents the heartbeat of the earth, which is your mother. So, you know, it goes from very simple things like I'm going to pound a stick on a drum, and then suddenly, you know, you're thinking about the whole world and the whole cosmos. And that's okay. That's part of it.

[Interviewer]

It's heavy. Sounds magical. How many people are we talking about?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I mean, a minimum of two or three, but it could be five, it could be 10. If it gets really big, people crowd into the drum and play it.

[Interviewer]

When you approach the kind of the native leaders, what do you say? I mean, you know, saying, you know, I want to get involved. I want to. I want to join in. Is that a complicated business? You see what I mean? Is there any pushback there?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, yeah, yeah. So for me, as a non native person, a person of, like, Irish descent, Spanish descent, I started slowly and with humility, observing. And after going to powwows and observing, the particular group that I'm part of had a river trip. So for the Lenape, the Delaware river is sacred. And one of the chiefs said, do you want to come on the river trip? I said, I'd love to. So we started at the headwaters of the Delaware river, so called Delaware River Lenape Sipu, in Hancock, N.Y. and over the course of a month, with a bunch of different people and a bunch of different stops, we floated the entire river all the way out to the Atlantic Ocean. And by the time the journey was over, we were all friends. And then my friend Mark asked if I wanted to drum. And that's how it started. Then went from there. Yeah. Amazing.

[Interviewer]

And these relationships you think you have for life now, is this a kind of.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Your family. Now,

[Interviewer]

here's our friend.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Lawnmower friend.

[Interviewer]

Lawnmower friend. Just won't go away.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, yeah.

[Interviewer]

He's just saying this.

[Philosopher/Writer]

He'll edit that out in post.

[Interviewer]

Exactly. That'll be. That'll be for Mike to sort out. Good luck with that one, Mike. He's coming towards us. He just. He's just doing the same bit over and over again.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah.

[Interviewer]

We come back again. Have a look around. He's having a look. Oh, he turned it off. Fantastic. Wow.

[Philosopher/Writer]

He's gonna fire back up. Hold on.

[Interviewer]

Yeah, he's definitely gonna fire back up. So what you're writing about in your mornings.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah.

[Interviewer]

Have your relationship with this group informed that writing?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yes. A lot of what I've learned about colonialism in the US has come from the native people and the native communities I've been in. A lot of the other stuff that I am thinking about with colonialism comes from sort of my training. There's multiple sources. That stuff academically was very important to me, but it's different to really understand from a first person perspective, you know, to listen to somebody describe how colonialism has affected their family. And then my ancestors on my Irish side ended up getting land in Kansas because my second great grandfather fought for the Union and the land in Kansas was native land. You know, I mean, of course all of Turtle Island, North America was native land, but the land that he was given or gifted was out in what was called permanent Indian territory. So there's definitely a connection there in terms of my white ancestors taking land. So I've, I've been very interested in that, trying to understand that process and I don't know, trying to do right now, you know, how do I do right now?

[Interviewer]

So what do you think you can do? I mean, is there anything you would like to do that you're not doing about it?

[Philosopher/Writer]

There's direct land back movement politics, which is just the idea of giving land back. It's a little more complicated than that usually. But that's, that's the idea, you know, that involves, you know, private donations. There's also. Whoa, look at that bird. Sorry. This bird that I've never seen in my life just hopped over. What do you think? Bird?

[Interviewer]

Oh, you have not seen a magpie.

[Philosopher/Writer]

That's a magpie.

[Poet/Singer]

Wow.

[Interviewer]

There's quite a few of them floating around and we're superstitious about them.

[Philosopher/Writer]

What's the deal with the magpie?

[Interviewer]

No, it's really, it's a funny one. So it's all about how many you see.

[Philosopher/Writer]

3. Am I in trouble? No, no.

[Interviewer]

So it's one for sorrow. And then you have to say something. You have to salute the map and say, good day, Ms. Map by house or wife. If you see one, this is what people genuinely, this people honestly do this. Two for joy. So if you see two, you don't have to do anything. It's good news. Three, this is where, this is where it gets funny. So there's a rhyme. So it goes, one for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy. I think it's related to maybe if you, you know, if you're about to have a child or something.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, okay.

[Interviewer]

But maybe just take it as just a girl.

[Philosopher/Writer]

All right, so, you know, four girl.

[Interviewer]

So there's some kind of. So let's just say there's a. You know, maybe there's. Maybe.

[Poet/Singer]

So cool.

[Interviewer]

Thank you. Maybe a girl will pop up today of note.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Okay. All right. I don't know. I better put my ring back on. I don't wear a ring, but I do have my wife's name tattooed on me.

[Interviewer]

Oh, that's cool. Tell me about your wife. What's it like being with her?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, she's great.

[Interviewer]

What do you like about her the most? Top three favorite things about your wife?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Top three favorite things. Let's see. She's just got relentless energy. She's always pushing, moving forward, and she's way smarter than me. She's got a wicked sense of humor, and I love listening to her talk when she's watching. We call it soccer, but football. So she's a huge football fan.

[Interviewer]

You're saying soccer? Our football, you mean?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

[Interviewer]

So she's a supporter. Who does she support?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Well, she really likes women's soccer, so she has a women's soccer team in the United States. But over here, let's see, what's her team? What's wrong with me? Can't remember her team.

[Interviewer]

Don't worry, it's okay.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, it'll come up in a second. Yeah.

[Interviewer]

Do you remember your first moment of connection with her?

[Philosopher/Writer]

You know, I'm not big on first moments. I feel like they're things that we write down when we're kind of making up our past. At least for me. Maybe I just have a shitty memory. So my first moments of seeing her was we were both in graduate school and we were labor union organizers. And just seeing her in that role as a political leader, as an activist, as a civilization speaker. Yeah, that was. That was it.

[Interviewer]

Was it fairly smooth from there? I mean, were there any.

[Philosopher/Writer]

No, no, no. We were both dating other people.

[Interviewer]

Okay.

[Philosopher/Writer]

It was not smooth at all.

[Interviewer]

How did that all work out? Who jumped first? 50. 50.

[Philosopher/Writer]

I think we both. We both jumped at the exact same time. Although one funny thing is that the boyfriend she was dating was also a musician from K. Kansas. And so her father was like, what is going on? She dumped one musician from Kansas for another one. So, yeah, it was. We're very different. My wife and I are different. We come from different cultures. She's from the east coast of the U.S. i'm from the Midwest. And it works out because if we were both kind of revved up, that might be difficult if we were both too laid back.

[Interviewer]

So.

[Philosopher/Writer]

So I think it works out really, really well.

[Interviewer]

So you gotta go to a conference.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, I'm going to a conference.

[Interviewer]

What does a conference look like? You know, a philosophy conference.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, boring.

[Interviewer]

Lot of talking.

[Philosopher/Writer]

So boring. So boring. So boring.

[Interviewer]

How could he spice it up? I mean, I haven't got you anything.

[Philosopher/Writer]

No, I'll put my suit and tie on. I'm a lay low. And then. And maybe at night, people will come out of their shells. Who knows? Who knows? I'm imagining, because this is the British Society for Phenomenology, I imagine it's gonna be pretty stuffy, but we'll see. Open mind.

[Interviewer]

What's the best possible outcome of this trip for you?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I mean, I would love to connect with some scholars. That would be good. I want to get some good gifts for my wifey and for the girls. They've asked about that. So I'm on a mission. And then I'm also sort of, you know, doing that American Irish thing of trying to connect to the ancestors.

[Interviewer]

So you look at you passing everyone on the street going, okay, yeah, yeah, right.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Is it you?

[Interviewer]

Is it you?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Exactly. Grandpa, is that you? You know? Yeah.

[Interviewer]

So do we know anything about your Irish ancestors?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. My fourth great grandfather is from Donegal, but I'm gonna go over there to Donegal City for four days or something like that and just.

[Interviewer]

Oh, fantastic. What's it been like to be a father for you?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Being a dad's great. It rocked my world. You know, it's like, immediately, instead of being responsible just for myself, I was responsible for this human entity that seemed so fragile at the time. And then also a sense of like, oh, my gosh, I'm a father. Am I gonna be like my father? So that was a big one.

[Interviewer]

What is it like now?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Well, my daughters are 20 and 17, so now it is watching them become adults, and they're so independent that,

[Poet/Singer]

I

[Philosopher/Writer]

don't know, just trying now, I guess, to wiggle my way in there, like, hey, remember me, dad? Like, you want to go do this? Nah, nah. So it's. It's a. Yeah. The tide has turned a little bit, and I'm excited about who they are and what they're doing and excited that they still seem to kind of like me.

[Interviewer]

So you Know, you seem like you'd be a cool dad. You do have kind of cool dad energy.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah.

[Interviewer]

Is that fair?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I guess so. I hate the label, but whatever. I was at one time, I was saying something to somebody about how I didn't like hipsters, and the person was like, well, are you a hipster? And I'm like, no. And they said, well, does a hipster admit they're a hipster? And I'm like, no. I was like, oh, damn,

[Interviewer]

That's brilliant. You mentioned when you were talking about being a dad, you said you were wondering if you would be the same as your dad. Can you just elaborate there a bit?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, my dad was never happy with himself, and he kind of took it out on other people. So I just want to be a kind, gentle dad. I never wanted my kids to be afraid of me. Never. So.

[Interviewer]

So you were afraid of your dad?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, yeah.

[Interviewer]

The whole way through.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Oh, yeah. It was terrifying.

[Interviewer]

What impact. I mean, what impact did that have?

[Philosopher/Writer]

I mean, it helped me become a critic of toxic masculinity and be a feminist, but I had to work through wanting his approval.

[Interviewer]

Yeah.

[Philosopher/Writer]

And he certainly was an old fashioned, tough man. You know, I just think I learned to be a different kind of male, different kind of man. And ultimately that. That's really good. But, yeah, it was kind of rough being a kid around him. Yeah.

[Interviewer]

And he never softened?

[Philosopher/Writer]

No, I mean, he changed, but in some ways he got weirder as he got old.

[Interviewer]

He's no longer with us.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah. He passed in 2017.

[Interviewer]

Yeah.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah.

[Interviewer]

What did that event mean to you?

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, that's a rough one. It meant my mom was alone. So that's been kind of how I've been processing things, how to take care of my mom. And I think with my dad being with the ancestors now, it allows me to say, okay, here's the positive things I want to take from who he was, you know, because he was a musician, an artist, an intellectual, you know, a record collector, an antique dealer, a lot of really interesting things. So I think it's allowed me to say, okay, these are the. These are the qualities I want to remember and highlight and be at peace with everything else.

[Interviewer]

Do you feel anything shifted in you after he died?

[Philosopher/Writer]

For sure, yeah, A lot. Huge shift.

[Interviewer]

Can you tell me about it?

[Philosopher/Writer]

It's a sense of not needing to live up to his standards or not needing to feel like I'm in his shop shadow or that I need his approval, I guess. Yeah.

[Interviewer]

Did you ever get his approval? No. To what extent did he. To what Point. Did he keep striving for it? It must have been a time he just gave up.

[Philosopher/Writer]

I think I sort of. Well, here's. Here's a moment for you. So when I defended my PhD where all these big wig professors sit and judge me, and I, for some reason, invited my father to come as well, so I remember really clearly sitting in the room and having, on the one side, my actual father, and on the other side, the director of my thesis and looking at both of them and thinking, oh, my gosh. What? Which one's the father? And realizing, you know, if I want to finish my program and get my doctoral degree in philosophy, this is the guy over here that I need to deal with. My thesis advisor. Yeah, that was a very, very strange moment for me. It's very hard to describe. It's very hard to describe. But what I'm saying is that, you know, in a way, like, even as I moved on in life, there were other people that were these male authority figures that kept kind of having similar roles to my father until I realized, oh, I don't have to have that at all. No more big, tough male. This is how it is. I'd be my own kind of male. How much do you charge for these therapy sessions?

[Interviewer]

Thousands. You mentioned you're a feminist.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yep.

[Interviewer]

Is that a kind of active position? I mean, has that been like, my father's been like this, I'm gonna be like this? Or have you just kind of fallen into it?

[Philosopher/Writer]

No, it's an active political position that I've taken since I was 16 and had to have blowout arguments with my father about.

[Interviewer]

Fantastic.

[Philosopher/Writer]

I was a debater when I was in high school. And then in college, I went to college on a debate scholarship, and so we'd do research. So again, the town where I grew up was very small. So I was in this little town library, and I go to the librarian, and I say, I want to research sexism. And she's like, oh, okay, I understand. I understand. You know, come with me. And she was all quiet and hush, hush. She brings me over to the shelf, and the books are all on sex education. What the hell? No, no. Sexism. Discrimination on the basis of sex. I was so embarrassed. So I found some books on feminism and checked him out and went home, put him in my room. And I went out and did something. I came back, and my father had gone into my room, looked at the books that I checked out, and, you know, had one of his little rage attacks. And I'm like, f you, man. What do you What? These are my books that are me, so. Yeah, that gives you a sense of what I mean when I say I took an active position. My father was trained as a Baptist preacher man. Like, either the pastor's preaching and you just listen or you fight fire with fire and you take a position. This is my position, so. That's quite brave of you.

[Poet/Singer]

Yeah.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Didn't feel brave, but thank you. I'll take the compliment. How are we doing on our 15 minutes? Tom? You promised 15 minutes at the beginning, bro. I haven't even looked at my phone.

[Interviewer]

It's been about 20, I reckon. Yeah, right.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Right. Lunchtime.

[Interviewer]

Okay, Last. Last few questions for you. You say that I lied at the start, didn't I? Because if I approached you and said, you know, can we talk for an hour? You'd be like, 100% no. You're gonna laugh me. You laugh me off. Okay. What a good final questions for you. Early doors. I used to get people to ask. Ask themselves a question. You know, if you have one, you're welcome to go for it.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Why did I agree to this? The main question, like, what did I get myself?

[Interviewer]

I got you and you're tired.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, see, See, see, You got me wrong.

[Interviewer]

Yeah, I got you and you're tired.

[Philosopher/Writer]

I mean, you know. You know, a philosopher sitting on a bench, you never know. I mean, I don't like that word philosopher either. It's. Yeah.

[Interviewer]

What would you rather.

[Philosopher/Writer]

I don't know, it's like. I don't want to say professor either. That's a term. Terrible. It's arrogant. Right. Like teacher, writer. I like writer. I like writer. Because writer is very general. Lots of people write, you know, it doesn't require having an institutional backing. I guess that's part of it, right? Is we. At least the world I'm in, in terms of my career, people seek legitimacy through an institution. It's like, now you're a human being. Yeah, completely, you know, hey, what's up? You know, I'm so, you know, what

[Interviewer]

you should do for your. I'm guessing you'll get a lanyard type thing.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, of course.

[Interviewer]

You know, maybe have your name then. The brackets, A nobody.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, exactly.

[Interviewer]

Just like. Just like you.

[Philosopher/Writer]

But then people think, well, who's this? Now, that makes it. Well, then they're like, oh, who's this guy? I think he is so.

[Interviewer]

Can't win.

[Philosopher/Writer]

You can't win. No.

[Interviewer]

Maybe the trick is there's no lanyard at all.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, exactly. I forgot it at home, by the way, my wife's club is Tottenham hotspot.

[Interviewer]

There we go.

[Philosopher/Writer]

She would be so ak. Well done for Emma. She'll be so fantastic. She can never listen to this. Don't worry, she won't.

[Interviewer]

Fantastic. Here's a. Let's do this. If you were to close your eyes now and think back to a scene from your past that you can think of in. You can describe in the greatest detail, can you describe what comes to you?

[Philosopher/Writer]

When I close my eyes right now, I think about Kansas and I think about the farmhouse where I grew up, in a buffalo field, where you have this tall grass and the grasses are as tall as a person. I remember being a kid walking out and being dwarfed by these grasses. And I also remember grabbing the grasses and ripping them open and chewing on them. And I would later learn that that's what the buffalo did. The buffalo would chew on the grass and it was that super, super sweet, almost like sugar taste. And then the other thing about the field is that during the summer, every couple weeks, there'd be a different set of flowers that would bloom. It might be one week the gay feather, and it'd be purple. Then the next week it'd be the paintbrush and it'd be red. So every week, especially June, my birthday month, the field would just transform itself. And so it was this synesthesia, you know, it wasn't just what everything looked like, it's what it tasted like and felt and smelled like. And those memories are so strong, that memory being out in those fields. So even though I'm in Dublin in the middle of a botanical garden thousand miles away, that's. That's what I think of. Think of being back in Kansas.

[Interviewer]

Whoa.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Beautiful. That was weird to.

[Interviewer]

Now you opened your eyes. You're back in it. You're back in Dublin.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Wow. I can't believe I'm in Dublin.

[Interviewer]

I can't believe I'm in Dublin. There's one last question. Oh, don't worry, it's a good one. It's a good one.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Drum roll.

[Interviewer]

Oh, yeah. If you're a drummer, What are you going to do next? Massive.

[Philosopher/Writer]

I'm gonna smoke a cigarette and walk to my Airbnb. But that's the simple answer. I'm. I'm just kind of out of my mind being in Dublin. I've been thinking about this trip for four years.

[Interviewer]

Oh, wow.

[Philosopher/Writer]

I've been trying to get over here, you know, and my grandma and grandpa had come, and I have Irish ancestry, and just like, waves and waves of stuff hitting me, so I don't know Being in Dublin is really, really starting to kind of sink in a little bit. I had horrible anxiety before I was coming. Just pacing. I just didn't want to go, what's going to happen? Like, just way worse travel anxiety than I usually have. So I think somehow talking about myself has calmed me a little bit, because I've talked about who I am and why I'm here. I think the next thing is to embrace Dublin. Embrace being in Dublin and get excited, just finally just be really excited to be here. Meet some cool new people, hopefully.

[Interviewer]

Fantastic. And it's been lovely to talk to you.

[Philosopher/Writer]

Yeah, it's been great talking with you. It's completely unexpected. I thought I was just gonna be laying on the grass, sleeping or something, man, but this was epic.

[Poet/Singer]

I've been talking to the river once again I've been walking through the lifetimes I've spent aimless wandering don't know how long it has been but there I go Swimming steady floating Just enough for air Let it take me through the unknown I don't care It'll make me see the person who I am and how I have grown so there I go Sam,

[Philosopher/Writer]

Go.

[Poet/Singer]

I've been talking to the river once again I've been walking through the lifetimes I spent aimless wandering don't know how long it has been but there I go but there I go Go There I go. There I go. There I go.