Few people in San Diego are as instantly recognizable as Dr. John “Slomo” Kitchin, and this week, it wasn’t the rollerblades that gave him away. It was the tan lines. Spotted inside a local Trader Joe’s, the Ocean Front Walk fixture appeared in his familiar uniform, revealing a striking pattern across his lower legs: a distinct white-brown-white contrast created by years of skating with knee pads and rollerblades that leave only a narrow band of his calves exposed to the sun.
The effect is unmistakable. Protective gear covers portions of his legs while the exposed section of calf muscle absorbs constant coastal sunlight, creating sharply defined bands that have developed over decades. The result is less incidental than anatomical - a visual imprint of routine, repetition, and a lifestyle almost entirely spent in motion along the boardwalk.
Now nearing his 83rd birthday this April, Kitchin remains one of San Diego’s most enduring cultural figures. Before becoming “Slomo,” he was a neurologist and psychiatrist who stepped away from medicine in 1998 and began what would become a complete personal reinvention. His slow-motion rollerblading, which is part meditation, part performance, has since become synonymous with the Ocean Front Walk experience in Pacific Beach and Mission Beach.
Kitchin has described his skating as a gateway to what he calls “the Zone,” a state of presence and transcendence that he pursues daily. Over the years, that philosophy has drawn both curiosity and admiration, eventually earning him international attention through a widely viewed New York Times documentary. Locally, however, his significance is more immediate — a familiar figure whose presence has become part of the rhythm of the coastline.
His background remains as unconventional as his present-day persona. In addition to his medical career, Kitchin once operated a 30-acre ranch with a petting zoo and launched a nonprofit aimed at connecting children with animals. He has also spoken about living with prosopagnosia, a condition that impairs facial recognition, and has suggested his balance and movement may compensate for that limitation.
Despite the attention, Slomo’s routine has remained largely unchanged. He continues to spend hours each day skating, creating art, and exploring the philosophy that has defined his later life. The Trader Joe’s sighting simply reinforces what longtime locals already know, that even away from the boardwalk, the details of his lifestyle remain visible.
As he approaches another milestone birthday, Slomo remains a singular presence in San Diego, a man whose daily ritual has quite literally left its mark.
Originally published on March 26, 2026.
