A Short Interview with Jason Dill

interview conducted 8/18/09 at approximately 6:50 PM

You referenced Henry's part in Tim and Henry's as inspiration for your part in Mosaic-- You're referring to the part with all those lines--
Yeah.
That was in a recent interview. I was kinda just thinking out loud. It wasn't the main reason why I did it; I just remembered that Henry's part in Pack o' Lies just seemed so flowy, and the way he did lines--he would do such long lines. I liked that--to watch someone taking the time to go around a trash can.
I think in that same interview you referenced Ziggy from The Wire as your favorite actor--
That was a joke. That's my friend P.J. who lives with me. He's on the show.
Are you a fan of that show?
I love that show. I would watch that show even if James or Leo Fitzpatrick weren't on it. So into it. I would like it even if my friend's weren't on it. Actually, I wish my friends weren't on it so I could like it even more.
Who was your favorite character on [The Wire]?
I'd have to say [pauses] McNulty. He was always fuckin.'
Do you remember your first graphic on 101?
Yeah--Winnie the Pooh.Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin [unintelligible]
Berrics vs. the World park--which is better?
World park. Jesus--are you kidding me?
Were you at Lockwood when Keenan switch flipped over the table?
I'm in the background. You see me run and throw my board down in the background.
What were your impressions of that moment?
I was hyped for Keenan. Then he turned around, and he almost switch heelflipped it.
My final question is about Gino--a dude that has a cult following, I guess you could say--
Fuck yeah he does.
What do you think is so iconic or transcendent about him or his skating?
Gino? You watch the guy push down the fucking street, and it's entertaining; it's beautiful. Nobody skates like that. Nobody looks like that on a skateboard at all anymore. All these kids are fuckin' jumpin' at shit and doing all this...
It would be insane to skate like Gino. No one skates like him. He's like a...like an ice skater.
Well, that's all I got; thanks for your time [reaches for post-it note to write down URL of site]
Nah that's okay I don't really use the internet that much. I'm sure I'll hear about it, though.

Whatever Needs to be Set Up for a Caine Gayle/Lennie Kirk MMA Bout...

Set.

That.

Shit.

Up.

But seriously, I don't even know why I am writing about MMA now. Maybe it's the fact that two Nineties luminaries have chosen its discipline as a post-skating vocation. Maybe it's that banner ad that was at the top of the SLAP board for a minute. Maybe it's the fact that an MMA "dojo" appeared next door to one of my local shop's locations. The shop moved. Oh, it's doing fine now, but the dojo remains.

Truth be told, for the record I do not perceive Muy Thai, Brazillian Jui Jitsu, or any of the various permutations and combinations of martial arts that have come to be known as MMA as kooky activities at all. One of my closest friends from way back does Brazilian Jui Jitsu, and it seems cool and everything. I prefer good old-fashioned boxing--"the sweet science." Truth be told, though, I also sometimes like to drive my Lamborghini around downtown Philadelphia late at night--just to clear my head, you know?

ANYWAY, like everything else, I suppose, the recent MMA explosion has its legit and kooky permutations. As far as taking it up post-pro skating, the way I see it, choosing a discipline to which one is a complete novice and mastering is is definitely cooler than taking a position as FKD Bearings (what ABEC are they again?!) team manager or whatever the fuck. Although, I find it interesting that in most of these "where are they now?" pieces in Skateboarder or whatever, most dudes have some kind of "cool guy" job like firefighter or, in the case of Adam McNatt, tattoo artist. You really don't see too many washed-up pro office managers or CPA's. I might be wrong, though (Lib Layraman? You out there?). BY THE WAY, McNatt's interview is also notable for his admission that Titan Trucks were forged from the rare molecular compound known as "legitness." Unfortunately for the human race, said molecular formula has been lost to the sands of time. Fuck. This, I'm afraid, is not even close:

Maybe I am writing about MMA because it somehow gets lumped in with skating in the category of ne'er-do-well activities that are relevant to the interests of gentlemen in the 13-35 age range. Indeed, if industry rabbis are searching for a cause of the industry's lack of profitability, it's probably the across-the-board proliferation of such ne'er do well activities, including new shit like text messaging, Call of Duty, and social networking. No one's busting out the launch ramp, or even the prefabricated "ramptech" box, and setting it up in the cul de sac anymore. The thing about skating is that, out of all the "cool guy" activities like surfing, snowboarding, wakeboarding (You're on a boat. Once you get a chick on your boat, it's basically a wrap), dirtbike riding, etc., it is the least "cool" in the popular imagination. "You're riding around on a little piece of wood on plastic wheels, what the fuck is cool about that?" I've heard the naysayers say. Granted, skating reflects a certain elan in urban areas like NY, LA, and possibly PHILA, but in the rest of the country, for the most part, it's a joke. And for your average 13-year-old, the ability to effectively text message or socially network is more valuable than the ability to do b/s tail bigspin outs or whatever the fuck.

ANYWAY, Speaking of Gayle and Kirk, a surprising amount of the discourse in the ol' print media this month centered around the apartment complex in which the Alien dudes lived in Carlsbad or wherever the fuck in the San Diego area during the mid-Nineties. I never thought of that area as a Nexus for epic shit in the vein of Mike and Greg Carroll's apartment or the Lockwood/menace_tech Los Angeles "fast life" scene, but 15 years later, I suppose it was. Trip the fuck out.


Who all lived there again? Alien dudes, Clyde, Pre-TMZ Muska? Tom Penny maybe? Fuck, dude. It was like Melrose Place without that one redhead, Tiffani Amber-Theissen, that short-haired blonde, or Locklear.

mad underrated

First, Jamie Thomas relates the tale of how he took a young Kalis under his wing ("eagle-swoop" pun intended) in the aforementioned San Diego-area community, only to have the dude quit TM to apply for a job at Real. That is, until Dyrdek recruited him into the Sect. I gotta tell ya, though, from an "alternate universe" perspective, Kalis under the tutelage of pre-Twitter Thiebaud,** Hufnagel, and Drake Jones is kind of mindblowing. Who knows, though; it would be hard for his career to have been any "better," you know what I mean? Then Lennie Kirk, at the outset of an epic behind-bars interview, recalls the partying ways of the Alien dudes and references taping Stretch and Bob, as was the wont of Nineties backpacker hip-hop folk. How did he pick up WKCR in San Diego, though? Maybe he and Drake mailordered tapes from Fat Beats, sandbox, or some shit like that. Ah, the Nineties, when, in order to obtain a mix tape, one had to send a postal money order via the postal service, and wait to receive a magnetic cassette tape via said postal service.

Fuck it though, all the aforementioned shit is apocryphal. Pros could pretty much do whatever the fuck they wanted back then. They didn't _really_ have to film that much, and the internet was mostly academic (besides USENET of course), so if a dude did something WACKY and regrettable, the whole world didn't know about it instantaneously. The only fuel for the ol' theater of the mind was whatever inside jokes made it into the Big Brother "news" column. Our sole point of reference, however, is the 411 "Roomates" segment with Pupecki, Gino, and Keenan, which is probably the best thing 411 Productions ever produced (the Jess McReney WOF is up there). I might be wrong, though; I kind of lost track when they did that whole "re-numbering" thing. ANYWAY. where to begin with the Pupecki/Milton/Iannucci piece-- Pupecki skating a brand new crisp City Stars board? Keenan smoking and playing Playstation 1 simultaneously? Gavin the three-point specialist? The most awesome part, I think, is random girl sitting on the couch while Gino and Keenan battle in NHL 2000 (you think Gino always played as the Islanders?).

I mean, who is this girl? What is she doing there? The world will never know. I do, however, think it's funny that, because blackberries were not yet invented, she's just kind of staring at her hand.


That's enough for now; I could probably write a while dissertation about that 411 segment. Or maybe a television series--A group of young, transcendentally talented skaters, some industry hangers-on, and a few scandalous bitches try to make it in a Los Angeles condominium complex during the pre-9/11 boom years. Here's my two-second pitch: it's like Melrose meets The Hills meets Street Dreams! Quick! Someone get Aaron Spelling on the horn!!!!


What?

*I'm trying to recall if Tiffani Amber-Thiessen was on Melrose Place, 90210 1.0, or both. It turns out, both.

**The recent banter between Thiebaud and "The Ringer" re: Twitter is really just too cute...

The Count of Tuscany

disposable 2: in stores now

The other day, I was pleased to see that Sean Cliver had finally gotten around to publishing a sequel to the epic tome Disposable. In addition to functioning as one of the classic "research laboratory" books of all time, it serves as a narrative of the rise of World Industries and its zeitgeist as expressed through the graphics of Cliver and McKee, primarily. Hand in hand with that, of course, goes the parallel narrative of Cliver's inevitable departure from Powell and the subsequent "war" between Powell and Rocco. Oddly enough, this summer Blind and Powell entrenched themselves and declared war once more--the video wars, that is. It would be a lot more dramatic if videos "mattered" moreso than whatever is on the berrics on any given day. It should be noted that it is 2009. Steve Berra and Nike control the industry. Once again, this in irrefutable proof that we live in some kind of crazy Futureworld.

ANYWAY, first, a little prologue. A few weeks ago, I went skating after work when one of those epic early summer thunderstorms struck the spot. If you are unfamiliar with mid-Atlantic regional weather patterns, there are two of them 'round this time of the year:

1. hot and humid as fuck

2. raining

So, I paid a visit to the shop. Down the block, the video premier for the latest Powell video offering was letting out--the same theater as the Fallen premier and the Mind Field premier about which I did not write.

The title of the video itself encapsulates just one of the reasons why I hate this company. It just seems kind of disingenuous, and also suspiciously like a shot aimed at Ty:

"Hey, we used to be this big shitty generic corporate company. NOT ANYMORE! WE'RE ALL ABOUT HAVING FUN SKATING! Not like those other dudes with their big super serious video productions! No ART here! Art isn't fun =(. Jumping down stuff is fun!! Powell are the fun dudes now! The shoe is on the other foot!! FUN. You know--like jumping down stuff.

As sometimes happens with this kind of event, attendees received stickers--1 ft.-in-diameter stickers with the Powell logo. You know, this thing:

I threw up a little in my mouth. As we all know, kids love stickers. However, they did not have the same violent reaction to Powell promotional material as I did. I saw some bros and they asked me "Hey, did you go to the video premier?"

"Nah I hate that company." They laughed, but I was dead fucking serious. I hated, and still hate Powell.**

By all accounts, their video is "sick," contains decent enough skating, and the ender ender is one of the more "extreme" frontside tailslides ever executed by a human being on this planet. However, I will never watch said video in its entirety, and most certainly will never by psyched on it. Why? For the same reason a Red Sox fan will always hate the Yankees. Even though World is, in essence, a shoe company now, I still retain allegiance to dwindle, and, by extension, blind and almost. It's still fuckin' Daewon, Rodney, plus the evolutionary Henry Sanchez*:

However, while Powell is still corporate and generic, so is World, or whatever corporate entity it has become. Twenty years after functioning as a canvas for Mark Gonzales' artistic "weirdness," and 15 years after having the sickest lineup(Creager, Milton, McBride, Sanchez) of any company ever, blind has somehow transmogrified into Digital Skateboarding: The Board Company.

To the kids at the aforementioned video premier, Powell is just another company with dudes that are good. No different from blind. Why do I retain a world view that is twenty years old?

I think it's because, just like the Red Sox and Yankees have changed, once one is a fan, according to Bill Simmons' rules of being a fan (which are somewhere out there on the internet) you can never switch. Even though the team 100% changes from the badass quality that made you dig them in the first place. Let's continue this analogy via baseball. Even though I am a Met fan, I will use the Red Sox as an example because I backed them hard as fuck in their battles against the Yankees in the first half of this decade. The Red Sox up uptil 2005 exhibited a badassness that was never more apparent than this epic battle that occured during the 2003 ALCS. I think I listened to most of it on WFAN. This was one of those events that, as one watches it unfold, one mentally repeats to onesself "I can't fucking believe this is happening and how fucking awesome it is." Kind of like the Pistons/Pacers thing.

Usually, though, the end of whatever made the team cool begins when one dude (Johnny Damon) moves on for more money. Then they bring in another dude that is super fucking good but doesn't really fit in, but the dudes kind of accept it because he's super fucking good (Matsuzaka). Pretty soon almost all of the original dudes are gone. However, you can't stop backing them, because sometimes they show that spark of why you were fucking psyched on them in the first place.

Creager does that. The next time a summer afternoon thunderstorm throws a monkey wrench in your plans, spend an evening revisiting his body of work: Cocktails. Superconductor Supercollider. 20 Shot. RvD1. RvD2. Memikmati. What If. I think that's everything; I might have omitted Gullwing: Revival. And this summer's offering, the creatively titled The Blind Video. I guess they decided against Blind - The Video: filmed on Earth - The Planet. Before we get to Creager's part, specifically, as a whole, I stand by my contention that The Blind Video harkens back to Trilogy with its sometimes shitty filming (think Clyde f/s heel over table), haphazard 80's-centric music supervision, loose clothing, and tech-for-tech's sake ethos (think Maurice Darshien Key sw f/s heel t/s). Danny Cerezini skates like an amalgamation of Photosynthesis-era Appleyard and Paul Rodriguez. Okay, if that's too hyperbolic, maybe Rodriguez with more creative trick selection. For example, you think he's going to go nollie n/s down that one hubba but he goes nollie bluntslide. By the way, Cerezini also maintains a blog, which is kind of interesting. I guess he didn't get the industry-wide memo re: self-promotion via "twitter." If I was into that sort of thing and set my mind to following some shit, I would follow kelch, york, nick t., whoever the fuck else...it would be just like hanging out under the wave. Trip the fuck out.

ANYWAY, Laitiala cuts down on the happy feet from that Digital part when he skated to "Blue Monday" (again--fucking amazing music supervision) and switch hardflips that big-ass set of stairs in Barcelona with the urgency of a Finnish commando defending the border against Soviet invaders. James Craig is, like, "one of us" so it's always sick to see what he comes up with. However, for my money, it's all about Creager and how he, by skating local spots in, I presume, Arizona, continues the pattern he established in 1992 by existing outside of time, which is kind of what this site is all about. Either ahead of, behind, or beyond, as shown by this unscientific chart:

Even though, by setting up shop in Arizona, Creager seems to have eschewed the industry in general, he has pursued other avenues to keep his shit out there. Specifically, his youtube channel shows that he's smart enough to know that "kids today" don't go to actual retail facilities to purchase and watch videos--they pretty much just watch what's out there. It's also a good destination if you need that extra "push over the cliff" to land that b/s tail double flip out or whatever the fuck. This particular video, however, captured my imagination, documenting Creager's construction of some kind of miniramp with a ledge in the middle. It also inspired the "retirement community" comment in the previous post. Truth be told, once I put in my 30, i would certainly agree to ride out my golden years in such an abode. Also of note: Creager, the small-wheel, skinny-board, fakie-360-flip-manual dude, wields power tools more effectively than a certain mute-grabbing, wall-planting, vintage trans-am driving, breaking-all-the-rules former resident of Edison, NJ and fellow former Rocco employee.

Draw your own conclusions.

*as astutely noted by some dude on SLAP

**that Mark Suciu kid is good as shit, though--he should be on a better company.

ps. if Creager ever created music, it would probably sound like this. or Dream Theater.

The Brotherhood of the Tactical Pants

made in China

Hey, remember last summer when all those rad internet promos came out?
That was awesome.
The Traffic promo, in which Jack Sabback's part fuckin' powered the rest of the summer, lingers in my mind's eye most prominently. Pandemic, too. Haven't watched that one in a while. The fact that someone actually made a skate video based on The Wire still kind of blows my mind.
ANYWAY, the Expedition internet promo Hello Hello Hello performs the same function circa 2009--at least until Matt Beach's part in This Summer's Transworld Video becomes viewable by the general public. An acquaintance of mine who attended the premiere confirmed my suspicion that it is a possible life-changer.

Even though I have expressed disdain for cynical China filming trips in the past, Expedition's philosophy--which basically has not changed trajectory since 1998--and the personalities attached (WELSH, Enrique, the dude from Laguna Beach, the dude whose graphic is a Jameson*bottle, the Ottowan) make this promo of so-called "throwaway" footage appointment viewing. IF, that is, one backs this subgenre of loose-clothing tech ledge refinement. If so, one will surely appreciate the vibe therein--not to mention the most non-illusion switch 180 flip ever.** Even if the music supervision sounds like the dude just turned on Sirus XMU and picked the first five songs that came on.

BY THE WAY, the illusion flip backlash may have gone too far when dudes are doing kickflip late nose pivots on flat. Just an observation.

Let's revert to Welsh, though. As psyche-defining as the Free Your Mind and Aesthetics video parts might be, Welsh might have entered Gino territory--a zone where any footage should be viewed contextually with the entire monumental career arc in perspective. However, I envision Welsh following Creager*** into some kind of skater retirement community in the AZ sunset with mellow ditch spots and a miniramp in every backyard.

* "Bushmills? That's protestant whiskey."

**If Beaubeau from Staten Island took action on BATB, I would bet this week's grocery money on Kelly Hart Sunday morning. Bet everything you own on it.

***Creager-related post coming soon

final thoughts re: mariano EL

Aside from apocryphal vVdeo Days footage, Lockwood revisited, and Van Engelen's encapsulation what it must be like to watch the dude skate, the one revelation that devastated the most in the 10 episodes of Mariano Epicly Later'd was the fact that most of the "LA" dudes ended up with substance abuse issues --with varying degrees of severity.
I'm not going to attempt to get into "why" here, but one time when I was at a party, a dude and I were discussing drinking as a passtime, and he said the following:
"It helps fill spaces in time."
Think about that--if one is a pro skater, unless one is on a Ty Evans filming trip, there is very little structure, unless one chooses to create it. What's the most one can skate in a day--three, four hours? Money combined with no structure, combined with an age at which one traditionally pushes the limits of acceptable behavior, substance-related and otherwise, can sometimes lead to individuals not making the best choices.

Ironically, I recall some Big Brother interview in the late Nineties in which they asked Guy about his personal finances. He replied that, basically, his mom was his accountant and she looked out for his interests in that respect. But, like Dave Eleffson said in the Megadeth BTM, "If you're spending $500 on coke and heroin, you're going to have money problems." That reminded me of what Bill Simmons refers to as "The Coke Era" of the NBA--approximately '78 to '84, when a whole bunch of talented dudes, like David Thompson and Micheal Ray Richardson, blew out their careers due to prolonged affairs with the White Lady.

The '84 draft pulled the league out of that malaise, but Stern, in his infinite wisdom, establised a rookie orientation program to proactively address these issues and help dudes who were getting drafted right out of high school develop tools to deal with suddenly having access to millions of dollars and a limitless supply of scandalous bitches and associated accoutrements.

The Rocco '92 to '95 era was skating's version of the aforementioned Era. Dudes got unprecedented salaries and fringe benefits, with little to no mentoring. It was almost as if Rocco conducted some kind of sociological experiment--what happens when one gives adolescents unprecedented amounts of money and impunity? I also discussed this policy in my review of The Man Who Souled the World, so I will not discuss further.

What I'm getting at here is another one of those "alternate universe" scenarios of which we are so fond around here. And it goes a little something like this:

One of the only comments of note on the VBS site lamented how Peralta "blew it" by not repping the LA dudes harder circa Public Domain.

Let's say Peralta breaks free from George Powell due to creative differences. He adopts a foward-thinking mindset, realizes that the Steve Saiz's of the world are driftwood in the imminent "street skating" tsunami, and sets up permanent shop in the LA office. Starts a new company with the L.A. dudes, plus Pat Fucking Brennan, Bertino possibly, so now you're looking at a proto-blind with Mariano, Johnson, Diaz, Rodriguez, Pat Fucking Brennan, possibly Bertino, also McNatt, perhaps. Sick, no? Maybe a talented young graphic designer by the name of Sean Cliver follows him on his way out the door. He also adopts more of a mentor role, like he did with the Animal Chin dudes.

Who knows how the 90's would have played out...

On the other hand, if one believes Disposable, the union of Rocco and Cliver was decreed by the fates--like one of those freeze-frame scenes in a Scorsese film.

ps. according to Megedeth BTM, Dave Mustaine went to rehab 15 times.

pps. To my dismay, Guy did not elaborate on that one time he went to a "C&C Music Factory" video shoot with Billy Valdez..

summer movie commentary

Some kind of web 4.0 harmonic convergence ocurred today.
First, Francis Ford Coppola appeared on Stern to promote his new film, the trailer for which you can theoretically view above. Epic, epic Stern; everyone was in awe of him, as you would expect from a cast that references Godfather every two to three days. I wanted to call in to ask if he and Spike are still cool, but I had almost arrived at work; I don't think they were taking calls anyway.The most poignant piece of the interview, from my perspective at least, was when he emphasized that he always told his kids that artist was, like, the best career. That's huge. He even name-dropped his nephew Jason Schwartzman, who, later on in the day, appeared in this video on the 'Tap.
Trip the fuck out.

While I have, for the time being, moved on from the Girl/Choc hardgoods (when Watson brought to light their heat transfer graphics it activated the ol' obsessive compulsion), they are still the best company, in a way, due to their ability to move through these seemingly disparate worlds. Not that they're the best company because they fuck with Hollywood fucks and skaters equally. Nor am I saying that they are somehow associated with FFC so that makes them better than, say, the sk8 waste management consultants. Or maybe it does. It's that whole LA vibe that made me want to localize my local schoolyard in the first place. Surface-wise, everything gleams, design and art are valued, yet there remains an underlying, um, Menace (!?)....

Note: trailers were not there in the Nineties.

HOT LAVA!!!

Attn: Scott Johnston--better be on your shit. Watch your q's and be on your p's, my friend; as you can clearly see, I kill it at shoe design. Picking up the gauntlet thrown down by Watson, I threw together a Koston 1 select Hot Lava colorway in about three minutes using some markers and a silver crayon. Along the way, I decided to forego paying homage to the red and black Nike Air Tech Challenge II in favor of the blue and orange; although, come to think of it, a white shoe with a black sole and a big red "E" would be Nineties as fuck.

A couple notes on the design: the silver heel collar (?!) would be constructed of that mesh stuff, and the lava on the heel goes all the way around to the other side.

While I was hard at work, I pondered why the fuck I am so psyched on this colorway; the nostalgic forces that surround it are powerful. The kids that wore Air Tech Challenge II's and Bo Jacksons were always just a little ahead of the curve when it came to important shit like seeing naked ladies. For example, they always had the SI swimsuit issue whenever it hit the stands around mid-February. It's hard to verbalize the gravitas the release of the swimsuit issue commanded at that time. Keep in mind that, at the time, the internet was used primarily for academic types to communicate with each other. Consequently, it was virtually impossible to see [mostly] naked ladies unless one had some kind of hookup like Cinemax or an older brother. Presumably, the swimsuit issue was intended to raise the spirits of demoralized dudes in the deadest dead of winter, in the negative zone between the Superbowl and the NBA All-Star Game. So opiate-like was their siren-like power, the young ladies therein became H-list celebs, after a fashion.

They also inspired a cult of sorts, depicted and immortalized by Michael Rapaport's character in Beautiful Girls. Note: although I am not psyched on "The Hundreds," if they re-reissued the shirt featuring this famous monologue I would definitely fuck with it.

*note: Brooklyn Projects is not actually located in Brooklyn.

**note 2: The Fountains of Wayne no longer live in Wayne.

Javier Nunez Is a Bulletproof Tiger with the Mind of a Fuckin' Scientist

alternate post title: Javier Nunez can land a fucking guitar. Has Tampa supplanted California as the locus of the American Dream? I postulated this theory after the harmonic convergence of the final ep. of Eastbound and Down and the Tampa pro finals. Like many dudes that weekend, Kenny Fucking Powers rode off into the sunset headed for Tampa, leaving a "gaping hole of need" of a woman at a suburban North Carolina gas station. The mission: one last shot at redemption. [insert Active Erica / April Buchanan commentary here] The location: Tampa Pro, which year after year provides entertainment value, of late centering less and less around the contest itself, with its increasingly cynical winning runs by that dude with the triple-collab hat. Alas, in 2009, a Matt Beach moral victory was not to be. However, I could not have been more proud of Mr. Nunez, who reprised his guest spot in Stevie's part in the DC video to the tune of 3K and a Dean (Darrell Abbott's final guitar sponsor) Flying V-type guitar. Throwing in that "wheedle-wheedle" George Lynch shred action was rad too. Note to Mr. Nunez: if you are indeed left-handed,and intend on learning the instrument, i highly recommend learning to play the guitar right-handed. It just gives one so many more options, you know? Plus, I know for a fact ESP does not manufacture a left-handed George Lynch pro model. However, I can think of at least one left-handed dude that took advantage of the symmetry of the Flying V design: Back to Mr. Nunez. My congratulatory sentiments are somewhat conflicted; as everyone knows, it's not very menace tech to try in contests. Years past, dudes might have flung a couple fakie inside heel attempts on the flat bank before blowing per diems at Mons Venus. Not this year, though. Maybe Javier is starting to actualize his potential, fourteen fucking years after getting on Menace. As it is, he's already one of the premier nollie h/f dudes ever--up there with Charles Lamb. I have no idea what it is, but that particular part of the world produces the best switch heel dudes par excellence. Maybe the catalyst is some chemical compound in the Arthur Kill that wafts over to Bayonne, back over to SI and then down to the Raritan Bay where it infects Wenning and Durante, or some shit like that. Now, If I were Bill Simmons I would compose some elaborate 20,000 word extravanza relating Powerisms to shit that went down at Tampa, but I'm not. So, all you get is a cheap story from the Nineties. And it goes a little something like this: I once ran into Kareem, Javier, and Cales at the pizzeria down the block from Supreme. Kareem related that his master plan for Javier was "the next Guy Mariano." I'm not sure if dudes who have been dubbed assuch have fared as poorly as dudes who have been dubbed "the next Michael Jordan." Maybe worse. As for Nunez' board sponsor, it's by all accounts "sick,"but their existence reminds me of that episode in Season 2 of The Wire in which Stringer Bell askshis econ professor how to make a profit in an oversaturated market. His answer, in a nutshell? Change the name. The theory postulates that the juice created by the "newness" of a new brand alone will increase sales. And if you think about it, in a market as oversaturated as "hardgoods," every time a new brand appears there's that one group of kids that are all about it--Deca, Deathwish, whatever. I am unsure, however, that this particular phenomenon took place for Shut. I have yet to see one of their boards anywhere. I suspect that they are one of those operations that is "big in Japan." Their graphics are legit, but the team lacks cohesiveness and identity to a certain extent.Felix doesn't help (see recent youwillsoon post). Derek Fukahara blew doors with one of the most talked-about tricks (varial heel ng on a handrail) in one of the most memorable parts in one underrated videos (Filmbot Files) of the past decade, then vanished. Back to the actual Shut product-- I think they utilize Chapman wood, making that manufacturer and its various clientele, specifically Zoo and Cliche, the only boards my local shop carries that are manufactured in our fine republic. And the last time I had a Chapman/Number 9 board in my posession, I traded it for a green 101 shirt and Whatever, including the box. This was possibly the most one-sided trade in the history of product trading. I found this out the other day when I went to get a board, and it came down to a limited-edition Tex Gibson guest board and a Dill. Note: realized that I just mentioned Dill. I'm not trying to fight you, bro; I fucking purchased your pro model! If you insist on fisticuffs, though, I'm at the foundation spot almost every weekend.I could never actually skate any kind of signed and/or numbered deck, so the Dill it was. I was surprised to see, however, the following counter-litigation (NOTE: there has never been a successful skateboard liability suit in this country -- I did a rudimentary LexisNexis search) device: Bummer, because up until then, one of the main things Burton Skateboards had going for it was the Paul Shmidt connect. I wouldn't be suprised if they were still availing themselves of his services, or phasing them out, or a combination of the two. Who the fuck knows, man. All I know is that if I ever gripped a board and forgot to remove the "warning" (or in the case of crailtap products, size) sticker, I would die of obsessive compulsion alone.

No Geographic Solution to a Spiritual Problem

My friend refuses to watch any British videos, such as the much-lauded Blueprint video Lost and Found. "Too dreary," he laments, and indeed, especially in Paul Shier's part, the Bob James music, cobblestone sidewalks, and bleak skies only exacerbate one's seasonal depression. And, like my therapist said, "depression is not attractive."

The flipside to that coin is that videos can function as an escape from Old Man Winter, who smacked me and the collective East Coast in the mouth this week . I believe it was in that sketchy early Nineties magazine Warp that Miki Vuckovich or some dude wrote that videos are like those cartoons with the coyote and the roadrunner --someone somewhere you wish you could be, doing something you wish you could do.

Skating is the one of the few vocation that provides its professionals with the impunity to do just that--to move anywhere in the world to do their thing. Think about it--not even NBA dudes have that capability. As long as you keep pumping out footage, shit's cool. Curiously, only a select few have taken advantage of this--Kalis comes to mind first, having set up shop just about everywhere except LA, and Dill perhaps, and Appleyard, who has transformed into more of an all-terrain destroying world traveller. That's cool and all, but I'm referring to setting up shop in an entirely new city; you know, renting/purchasing a residence, buying furniture, that kind of shit. Where would you go? Barca is an obvious choice. In a career-defining move, Lee Smith plugged into the rejuvenation machine by moving over there. It's like when Kobe's dad went to play in Italy. These dudes probably look at a Henry Sanches like Mick, Kieth, and Brian Jones perceived Muddy Waters or one of those fucks--a master that got fucked by the system. Also, why more people haven't moved to Prague mystifies me. Granted, the weather may blow, but Stalin, situated on the top of a hill overlooking the city, with smooth ground, ledges, that manual thing, looks like Love's crazy European cousin (see any footage of Petr "Euro Wenning" Horvat). Come to think of it, I haven't seen any footage of it for a minute, so it might be blown out. In any event, Prague itself, based on secondhand accounts, Harsh Euro Barge, Beware the Flare, and most of all, the INXS "Never Tear Us Apart" video, seems imbued with a magical vibe of sorts...

Enter Euro. While Euro videos ,particularly those from England, and Germany, display some of the bleakest, easter-bloc terrains around, some contain mindblowingly beautiful scenery. You know how some videos use "crusty spots" as a selling point? I am of the opposite persuasion -- the more pristine and affluent the spot, the more I am into it. I came to this conclusion while, on a late-night quest for OnDemand entertainment, I discovered the Alis video Who Cares. Remember that Monte Carlo tour feature in that one On Video (the Love Park "issue"? Kevin Long, Pete Eldrige and them skate all these ridiculously ornate hotel ledges and stairs and shit? That is my favorite "tour" article of all time. I mean, hardflipping down a set of stairs at some nondescript Southern California school is one thing, but hardflipping down a pristine alabaster double set that leads onto a pier that extends seemingly infinitely into the cerulean Aegean Sea (as in Willow's part in the aforementioned Alis video) is quite another, in terms of, yes, theater of the mind.

Enter Spain.

For a time, I considered seeking employment at this place. A different, more laid-back way of life, including siestas, people who value art, and all those seemingly mindblowing spots. Then I concluded that I would still have to get car insurance, fuck with the cable company and gas company, finagle with real estate fucks, and handle all the mundane shit one deals with on a daily basis that doesn't really pass over one's mind when fakie ollie switch crooked grinding a ledge alongside a beach filled with topless women.
There is no escape from the everyday dealing-with-people shit. However, regardless of locale or employment status, skating has a strange power. Like Guy said in the FF doc, in the moment when one is actually doing a trick, all that shit fades away, whether one is fakie ollie switch crooked grinding a ledge alongside a beach filled with topless women or "Pupecki" grinding the local high-arrest-potential marble bench.

The former, of course, is the lifestyle potrayed in your average Euro video, like the newer offerings from Alai and Nomad. In stark contrast to the minions of Burton that pounce six minutes after someone uploads Dyrdeks park onto youtube, these fine companies seem to just want you to see their fucking video-- any way, anyhow. TAKE OUR VIDEO, PLEASE!

The Nomad video is mostly notable for b/s 180 fakie 5/0 specialist Raul Navarro and Jose "poor man's Jesus Fernandez" De La Rosa. Enter Alai, another Spanish board manufacturer. Again, in stark contrast to the directives of executive producer Jake Burton, they offer the video for anyone who wants to watch it on the very front page of their site. Go there--or simply click below--to watch the most effective example of the different, better way of life to which I previously alluded: Daniel Lebron's opening part in Alaikit, my favorite video part of 2008.

ALAIKIT
by alaiskateboards

Once one gets past the somewhat annoying intro, one navigates into a world where skating isn't a stunt or recreational activity. It is art. As opposed to the U.S., where skating is relegated to municipally converted, caged-in tennis courts, middle-of-nowhere abandoned foundations, or deserted, undercover-of-the-night corporate edifices, Lebron's four-minute part paints a picture of a highly advanced society where skating coexists with other art forms, such as cooking, sculpture, the visual arts, and seducing a woman.

Furthermore, the sheer Nineties-ness of Lebron's attack appeals to my narcissism because, like, that's how I would skate if I could. Who the fuck else locks into and pops out of switch heelflip frontside crooked grinds like that, or could, even? Capaldi, perhaps Rodriguez. It's as if there was a fork in the road around 2000-2001 and he kept going one way and everyone else went the other. While doing so, he elevated fakie ollie switch crooked grinds to an art form--maybe even a new religion. I know that the industry is far from a meritocracy, but dammit, I guestimate that there are twelve NBD's in this part. Not Aaron Kyro NBD, but legit fakie ollie switch crooked grind variations never before done by a human being. I believe that also takes into account Sarmiento's guest appearance. Both of these dudes' baffling underratedness is perhaps a topic for another post. In any event, SPRING FUCKING BREAK is right around the corner. Cozumel? Maybe not this year...

The Art of Profiling in Air Max 95's

coming soon...

According to the 'Tap today, a Guy EL is in the can, or at least in the works. Although I don't believe in expectations, life-changer potential remains high. Therefore, depending on how long the other thing I'm working on takes to complete, I will hold off on the aforementioned Guy-related project until O'Dell releases the shit. Thanks, bro...