Back in the day, we had clamp-on skates, the kind that had a key to tighten them, and we would skate up and down the streets in the neighborhood, racing each other from block to block.

When we needed a thrill, we'd fly down the long, steep hill from our block to where the cars could get on the West Side Highway. We called the bottom of that hill Greenlightsville, because that’s what we hoped it would be when we got there. If the light was red, we were in trouble.

Then, when I was older, there was the disco roller skating craze, and I used to practice skating on my parents’ parquet dining room floor, going round and round the long table that we only used for holiday meals.

Today, I still see diehard roller skaters, dancing in the park on weekends. No roller blades for them, they boogie down the old school way. I wanted to find out what was putting the skate in their step.