Rothwell's "mode of address" is used to establish the role of which the interviewer adopts, in relation to the film and the events that they are describing. These modes range from participant, giving us a first hand view of the events, to artist, using metaphorical or symbolic interpretations of the event. I will be retelling the events through the perspective of a "guide".
When I was 15 my friend convinced me to try to learn how to skateboard with him during the summer holiday. After creating a Frankenstein like skateboard out of second hand and store bought parts we set out on our quest for fun, learning from scratch with him acting as my guide and mentor. For the entirety of the summer holiday I learned how to cruise and go down hills and bumps, eventually leading us to go to my local park where they had a course for bikes (no one actually took there bikes there so the local skateboarders used it instead). Here I practised my ollies and kick flips, honing my skills on the cement hills that filled this little corner of the playground.
With a new school year approaching and an accident free summer, I was called out on the last day to skateboard some more. What could go wrong? after a few more hours of practice with my friend, i figured I should go home and get ready for school. However, my friend insisted that I go down the big hill one last time before I leave. I had a bad feeling about it but I figured I had gone down the hill enough times to be confident enough. As I stood on top of the cement hill, friend by my side saying words of encouragement, a football flew by and knocked my skateboard out from under my foot, shaking my confidence all the more before my decent. After a few more seconds to compose myself, I took a deep breath and leaned forward, propelling myself down the relatively small but steep hill. As I got to the bottom by front wheel hit a pot hole, trapping itself in place and sending me flying forwards. This is it. I landed on my front, twisting my shoulder and slamming my chin on the concrete floor. I heard a crunching sound in my mouth and spat out what I assumed was a small stone I must have accidentally gotten in my mouth during the fall. I spat out a shard of tooth. I stood up and popped my shoulder back in place and as I sat down, my friend and the other skaters ran to get me some water, tissues and a plaster, which at that point I had no idea what that was for as all I did was break a tooth and dislocate my shoulder. I hold the tissue against my broken tooth assuming it was for that, at which point my friend said "No dude, that's for your chin." I held it against the underside of my chin and wiped away a large amount of blood, which looked darker as my vision had started to go blue from the adrenaline.
After I had gotten home my dad and sister had decided to accompany me to the A&E to get stitches. My dad was in a particularly bad mood as this was his day off and he assumed my mum was over reacting to my gash and after the 3 hour wait I was finally seen by a trainee doctor. After my dad saw how bad the gash actually was he had an argument with the young doctor, who simply wanted to glue it shut and after a second opinion from a more experienced doctor, they proceeded to take out the anaesthetic and sewing needles. After I dealt with one of my biggest fears at the time (needles), I told the doctor about my shoulder and she assured me that I was fine and I went home feeling a little shaken up. The next day I went to the dentist to get a filling for the broken tooth (which broke two weeks later and had to be replaced), and a year later my shoulder started falling out of the socket. After a month of physio my shoulder was practically good as new (minus the odd clicking sound).
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