First thing's first, the blog now has a store! You can find the link along the side of the blog, or click the link in the last sentence if you have a craving for some BTJ merch.
I picked up a new pair of shoes this weekend. I had the option of either the TNT 5s, or the Rowley SPVs. Given that the TNTs only came in a black and orange colourway, I opted for the SPVs in classic black and white.
Aesthetically, they look like a pared-down, almost dressier version of the Old Skool, and the padded heel piece and tongue, coupled with a thinned-out sole make for a particularly comfortable fit with no break-in time. That being said, the thin sole and bare-bones upper probably mean that durability would be an issue for street skaters, so on account of that I would more quickly recommend the Rowley SPVs to those who skate more transitions.
Let's all be honest here, though, you guys probably didn't visit the blog to read a shoe review. For that matter, I'm sure you could probably find a similar review of the SPVs from any number of sites, or find a similar review of any number of shoes. At the end of the day, one of the most convincing arguments for buying the SPVs, or really any pair of Vans, is that, come on, they're Vans.
Case in point, Vox just released the below video of Dan Drehobl skating a mini ramp in a brand new pair of Vox shoes.
I would love to be able to tell you that the first thing I noticed about the video was Drehobl's skating. By no means is that a sleight to the skating, as it is impressive as any Corpsey footage, but the fact of the matter is that the first thing I noticed about the video was this:
I assure you that the above images were not photoshopped in any way, it just so happens that the Vox Saveys bear a remarkable resemblance to the Vans Eras, right down to the stitch pattern. Vox is, by no means, the only company guilty of doing this, by the way. I defy anyone to find another skate shoe company who has not released a mid-top that looks similar to the Half Cab.
Now, not to sound like a snob, but at the end of the day, if I had to make a choice, I would purchase the Eras. I find myself wondering exactly why this is; what drives this kind of fierce brand loyalty that I tend not to have for many other products? For all I know, any given pair of Vans döpplegangers may be more durable, or more affordable than their inspiration, and yet I stand by my choice.
It seems to me that what it boils down to is the fact that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. The look of many of the most classic Vans shoes is so often borrowed from for a reason: these are good shoes. It is not without merit that Vans celebrated 45 years in the business this year, and not without note that a couple of their shoe designs have lasted just as long. So, in the end, while yes, there may be a kind of emotional connection I have to the almighty waffle grip and sidestripe as as tranny skating punk-rock fan, I cannot help but argue that my love for Vans comes simply because, well, they're Vans.
I have no shame in admitting that I am a fan of Jason Adams.
The Kid has a timelessness about him, and about the way he skates. You see his photos, watch his parts, and want to go skate, pure and simple. He is, in many ways, a bit of a blue-collar hero.
I sent Jason an e-mail via his blog, on a whim, stating who I was, and how cool I thought it might be to ask a few questions for the blog. Now, I am a realist, and I understand that many pros live hectic lives with insanely bloated inboxes. It is for this reason that, when Jason was so quick to initially respond, much less agree to an interview, I was equal parts shocked at the speed of his response, excited by the prospect of getting a shot at interviewing one of my all-time favourite skaters, and flattered that he actually agreed to it.
What truly blew me away, however, was that, in spite of the fact that the actual interview took about a month and a half to do, that every week or so I was getting an e-mail letting me know that the interview was still a go, and that I had not been forgotten. Even if I were never a fan of Jason Adams beforehand, his willingness to take the time to keep up a correspondence with me over the last eight weeks or so, with really not much to gain from it, was enough to cement his place as an icon in my mind.
And so, without further ado, the Between Two Junkyards Jason Adams Interview.
1. So, first off, I want to touch on 1031. Hearing that you were going to be riding for Svitak got me really stoked, because as far as I'm concerned you guys made up part of what I consider to be the golden age of Black Label. How has it been skating alongside Kristian again after so many years? Being that you're kind of one of the veterans on the team, do you ever find yourself offering up any kind of mentoring or advice to the younger guys? - I've never even met anyone on the team besides Kristian. I met Ben [Raybourn] one time...but ahh... then he quit. I don't get out of town much.....veteran for sure! Ha ha, I'm a somewhat stay at home dad these days. The days of touring and travel and free days skating, or filming/shooting are pretty much a memory. A skateboarders life style doesn't fit in any where. I try!!! Damn it, I try!! It suits me to be a fancy free spirit......just ain't goin' down these days.
2. You've released a staggering number of video parts over the years, and in watching all of them I've found that they have this kind of balance to them: not only do you manage to incorporate equal parts street and transitions, but also equal parts tricks that will amaze the average skater, and tricks that the average skater will want to go and learn right after watching. How important is it for you to maintain that sense of accessibility, to throw a slappy and slide line into a part with a lot of unique skating that most young street pros couldn't hold a candle to, much less your average grom? - Well the way you broke that down is somewhat the way I would go into filming a part. Basically I go and film what's fun and comes natural to me. That said I also always wanted to make a statement about what I was into or what I thought was cool........ basically I never let go of my younger roots and influences in skateboarding. I always wanted to bring that into whatever I did in skating. But on the flip side... I knew I needed to come up with a few bangers and a few other moves to make it modern and relevant.
3. Speaking of unique skating, what's the trick behind your ability to seemingly wallride anything with a 70-plus degree angle?
- I have always been drawn to wall rides. Seeing the first crail snatcher or wallie in the mags was so awesome to me! Then when tech skating came in it was almost taboo to hit a wallride? That made me want to hit them more! the Gonz always did rad wall stuff. I really dug Tim Jackson back in the day too. That might have something to do with it. I guess I would find inspiration in choosing the road less traveled......these days there's just a lot of traffic.......
4. not to try and make you feel too old, but you've been skating long enough to have been privy to an insane amount of progression. What trick do you most vividly remember seeing for the first time? For that matter, what trick do you most vividly remember learning?
Hmmmm, good question. Hearing about Tom Knox doing a kick flip wall ride.....I would say around 86-87 man that was heavy. JJ Rogers doing the first feeble grind on a hand rail in a blockhead ad. Hearing about Henry Sanchez doing a big spin over the seven at Embarcadero...........Danny Sargent back side slappy on the big ledge Embarcadero...... For me?...Ollie up a curb, kick flips......Front 360s off jump ramps. Rock and rolls on half pipes.......First board slide on a hand rail. Four stairs fool!!
5. I remember reading an interview you did in The Skateboard Mag where you talked about living a sort of nine-to-five lifestyle that lets you spend time with your wife and daughters. How difficult is it to be a full-time pro skater and a full-time grown-up? How do you manage that balance?
- I don't...... I don't consider my self a full time pro skater any more.... not that I don't want to be out doing it, or that I'm not skating. It's just that reality, economics and age set in. It had to happen some time I suppose...... but it was tuff for all those years of being a married father and trying to keep a skater's schedule going. It's like oil and vinegar! Even when the wife didn't have to work!
6. Anyone whose seen your art, read your blog, or watched any of your video parts knows how big an influence music is on you (I personally got into the Mescaleros thanks to your part in the enjoi video), and yet in terms of creative outlets other than skating, you gravitated toward the visual, rather than the audible. Why so? Have you ever tried your hand at music?
- Yes, and I'm not musical!! Anything I've ever gotten into it just became an obsession. I tried to get into playing music and it just didn't click?? I'm either lazy or lost or obsessed!!
7. I've noticed a trend in recent years that a lot of pros are no longer ashamed to ride their own models. I never really got the reluctance in the first place, because to me a pro model should be
something you as a pro should want to ride. As someone who has often ridden your own board, What's your take on the whole issue?
- The early 90's pro skate scene was retarded...for lack of a better word. It trickeld from that. But at the same time it could have been a backlash of the antics of some cheesy-ass ego driven pros of the 80s?? But really the 1990s were strange! Real strange!
8. On the subject, I know you like to switch up your setup frequently, but if you had to ride one size and shape the rest of your life, what would it be?
- I don't like that scenario...
9. You're stranded on a desert island with one album, one book, and one thing to skate. What are your picks?
- Man you are killing me.....The Clash, Sandanista; Stienbeck, Travels with Charlie; red curb.
10. So what is coming down the pipe for you in the coming months? What can all the Kid fans out there look forward to?
- Trying to stay focused, that's a tuff one for me. I want to do a few projects for my 20 years of pro skateboarding coming in 2012. Honestly I'm just trying to find my place right now, I'm learning how to juggle it all and stay consistant!!
11. Final question: Every so often on the blog, I'll write about some aspect of skateboarding that really personifies it. So if you'd be so kind as to finish the sentence; Skateboarding is...
- freedom....or at least a the closest thing to it.
I want to extend my hugest thanks to Jason Adams for taking the time for this.
This hiatus of mine has been a long, painful one, filled with many ideas and little time to think them through, much less cement them into a post. Many a time, ideas have begun to manifest, only to putter to an abrupt halt, cast into the purgatory that is my "drafts" folder: while discussing this with Brad yesterday evening, he claimed the above to be a blue-faced statement, but I assure all of you that this is not the case. Some of you may recall that I ensured a particularly special post upon my prodigal return, but said post is suffering some logistical setbacks, so in the meantime I hope my offer of one of my regular features will satiate you all for the time being.
Skateboarding is... Versatility
Also Barrel-Jumping... kinda
In and of itself, skateboarding is something of a niche activity, even in light of being more or less accepted in modern society, and within the niche that is the activity we all adore, there are several other subcategories, so to speak. We, as skateboarders, have all come across them, and many of us have made a point subscribe ourselves to one or another: be it street, vert, mini, freestyle, downhill, slalom, or even longboarding, ours is an activity that seemingly thrives on the idea of specialization within a particular field.
Why, then, if this is the case, am I sitting here right now claiming the exact opposite? Well, because while, yes, on the one hand most skaters make a point of finding one specialized area and honing their skills within it, skateboarding by its very nature demands of its purveyors an inherent versatility.
From a more macro standpoint, it can be argued that skateboarding is greater than the sum of its parts. That is to say, one reason that skateboarding has flourished the way it has, especially lately, is because of the fact that, past the act of riding a skateboard, every other aspect of skateboarding is defined by the individual doing it. In many ways, a skateboard is the most versatile mode of transportation ever conceived; every microcosmic sect under the blanket term of "skateboarding" is a testament to the fact that skateboarding thrives on versatility through individuality.
From an individual standpoint, this is most essentially personified in one's ability to adapt to different terrain. Now, while I could take this opportunity to extol the virtues of being well-rounded in every discipline, or wax poetic about what Jake Phelps recently dubbed the "Round-wall Renaissance", I'll see fit to avoid doing so, because at the end of the day, not everyone wishes to play jack-of-all-trades. Yes, being able to skate handrails and pools equally well certainly epitomizes the idea of versatility, but in that same breath, no two handrails are alike, any more so than any two pools are alike. Every piece of skateable terrain, whether made for skateboarding or not, is inherently unique; such is the beauty of human fallibility. Every crack, every kink, every millimetre difference in measurement provides a unique challenge. Even the act of skating down a different stretch of sidewalk than one's normal path can prove a new adventure, a new exercise for the mind and body. It is the ability to adapt to these variables, to conquer the new and unknown, that not only separates the good skaters from the great ones, but has also been the defining point of skateboarding for its entire existence.
In the end, the whole thing seems like an elementary exercise in basic logic: If a skateboard is a versatile object, and skateboarders are versatile people, then by all accounts...
As much as I enjoy a good preamble in my blog posts, as those of you keeping score have no doubt noticed, there isn't a whole lot that can be said to precede today's entry. For those of you who may be new ( I think I might see one, way in the back there...), I had written this post about three weeks back, and in spite of the great feedback I received (seriously, all you guys are awesome), I felt there was something left unsaid. Truth be told, what I had really wanted for the first post right off the bat was more of a woman's perspective on the matter, though my efforts to receive such a perspective proved fruitless by my self-imposed deadline, and with no time to develop anything else so as to put my initial idea on the back-burner, I posted, and waited.
the backbone of this second part came to me via my Facebook inbox, in the form of young Jess Speedie. Some of you reading this may have met Jess before, but for those of you who haven't, allow me to offer some insight:
During 2009/2010, due to the fact that I had taken a year off from school, I took a second job as a skateboarding instructor at CJ Skatepark in Toronto. At the start of, I believe, the second week of Holiday camps in December, a young camper asked me if I was able to drop in on the park's twelve-foot tall vert ramp. I happily obliged the camper by proceeding to give all of the campers from that particular week an impromptu demonstration of all six tricks I can actually do on vert. Afterwards, I was approached by a young lady who had enrolled in the camp; she complimented my skating, and asked me if I would help her with her frontside airs. Eighteen months later, and she looks like this:
The young lady, for anyone not paying any attention whatsoever, is Jess Speedie.
When I took it upon myself to query Jess about the nature of women and femininity in skateboarding, she was, unbeknownst to me, spending a week at Woodward further honing her abilities. Still, though, when the questions did eventually get to her, she was more than happy to offer her insight.
BTJ: As a skater, how did/does being surrounded by males affect your personality/interests outside of skating, if at all?
Jess: Frontside Ollie
JS: Well, I have to say, being around males does affect my personality. It inspires me and pushes me to be more out-going, and less finicky about trying new things. And also to be willing to go all out, and be tough and strong all the time. Basically to just stand out, and be proud and aggressive, despite any differences, disadvantages or lack of experience that I may have. In terms of interests though, it doesn't really affect me.
BTJ: Do you feel the majority of female skaters are inherently masculine? Why or why not?
JS: No, I don't think female skaters are inherently masculine. I think they just enjoy flowing around on a skateboard (for me personally, I love the rhythm and freedom of skating, it's kinda like music). They're attracted to the same thing about skateboarding that males are. But that doesn't make them masculine.
BTJ: Is there a place for femininity in skating, or will it always be perceived as a hindrance?
Erin Wolfkiel, potential X-Games Medallist.
Way to blow it, ESPN
JS: I think there is a place for femininity in skating, I just don't think it's that big or popular. It will probably be a bit of a hindrance until a girl comes up who has dialed 720s and can skate strong and aggressively; someone who is as fun to watch as one of the pro male skaters.
For that last question:
While I was at Woodward, I met a female skater, Erin Wolfkiel (she was my counsellor). She was going to compete at the X Games until the women's division got so wonderfully cancelled. During my time with her, we had some really great conversations, and I discovered that she has some super interesting ideas to offer about female skateboarding, the challenges it will face, and its future. She thinks in a really cool way. I think you should get some opinions/answers from her, she really wants to get her message out there and heard, and she honestly has some amazing things to say. If you'd like, I can contact her and ask her your questions and send you her response. I think it would make your blog post even more interesting and thought-provoking.
I did take Jess up on her offer to gain some more insight from miss Wolfkiel, however at this time Erin has not, for whatever reason, been able to offer her two-cents on the matter. Said lack of communication notwithstanding, however, I do feel inclined to share with you a short documentary featuring Erin, that may, in fact, answer some of my questions inadvertently.
I want to end this post not by offering my own insight, as I feel I did so fairly thoroughly in the first part. Instead, I want to urge those reading this blog to ponder this matter on their own. Form your own opinions based on what you know and what you've seen. To the male readers, maybe use this an encouragement to get your sisters/moms/girlfriends/wives to give skateboarding a try, and to the female readers, use this as a fire to go out, grab a board, and learn how to rip, or rip harder. Who knows, one day you may be doing frontside airs higher than the person you got to teach you them in the first place.
When considering what to write about for the Monday's post, part of me wanted to assume that there were going to be hoards of skate bloggers out there who were no doubt going to recap this weekend's X-Games, and that perhaps ESPN's annual Hawk and pony show would, by the time this post goes live, be flogged to death worse than crailslides were in the mid 2000s. Then, of course, the thought occurred to me that "wait a minute, this is the X-Games... No one is going to blog about them because no one cares enough to watch them anymore!" To be fair, I stopped watching the X-Games on TV probably about five or six years ago. When I was younger, I remember being upset because TSN (Canada's equivalent to ESPN, for those of you not living here) would never show the street contests on TV. I mean, yes, vert was cool to watch, but at that point I didn't skate transitions, and street was my deal. Eventually, I got tired of being disappointed by one of the two or three Canadian simulcasts of the contest being motocross, BMX, or Rally Racing, and truth be
"Street" Obstacle, 2010.
told, even if I had the opportunity to watch skating, I found the vert and big air contests had become formulaic (whoever does the most rotations wins), and the street contests were predicable and boring, with horrendous layouts that looked like neither street nor skatepark, but rather some manner of oversized modern art gallery. Like most skaters, I scoffed at the redundancy of the contest, and if I really wanted to watch the footage, I knew it would be online in a matter of days.
Street obstacle, 2011.
Oddly enough, something broke me this year. Something within me compelled me to set me PVR to record whatever X-Games coverage was being simulcast up north, without having any knowledge of what said coverage would be, and proceed to watch it at my nearest possible convenience. Truth be told, I think a large part of it had to do with this year's frankly astonishing street course, though I believe a lot of it could be attributed to the fact that in the last few years, someone slapped ESPN good and hard. Perhaps it was on account of the whole cancelling vert debacle a few years back, though I can only really speculate. Point is, it seems as if the coordinators of the X-Games may have finally realized that, in spite of their admittedly impressive seventeen year tenure as an annual multi-discipline contest, and in spite of making for a good payday for the competitors, the contest had become the butt of ninety-eight percent of the jokes told by its bread and butter, skateboarders (the other two percent consisting of Jeremey Rogers jokes).
Of the four days and plethora of different events that made up this year's contest, for some reason TSN only allotted two hours of coverage on Friday and two on Sunday, meaning that of the four days and plethora of events, Canadian TV coverage was made up of two hours of skate street preliminaries, and two hours of rally racing finals. Needless to say I forwent the rally cars. The street prelims were held on the Friday, though in a house with six people and fewer TVs, the PVR proved to be a godsend.
Saturday morning I made a point to wake up early enough to watch the street prelims before the TV would be commandeered in the name of sports to which I hold no interest, only to have something very interesting happen. As I was in the midst of watching the end of the third of four heats, my dad walks into the room to take care of a few things for work. As I was preparing myself to turn over the remote control, I hear a comment from my dad about Ryan Decenzo:
"Hey, he looks kinda like you!"
"Yeah, I guess. Maybe it's because he's Canadian. He's in first right now."
"No kidding! Good for him!"
As the fourth and final heat carried out on TV, I found my dad making more and more comments about what he saw:
"Aw, man, that was cool." (In response to a number of David Gravette's more unconventional tricks).
"Huh. So he is human." (After seeing Nyjah Huston miss a trick).
Being the only person in my immediate family to ever have any real interest in skateboarding, it was strange to be sitting, having that kind of a moment with the same man who, as I was a young teenager, assured me that I would eventually stop skating. I talked about the whole experience with Deanna over the weekend, and it got me thinking; maybe there's a reason that, even though the X-Games have had a history of being maligned by skateboarders, they have managed to persevere for nearly two decades now. Maybe the secret to the X-Games' success lies in their ability to make the sports it covers relative to those who don't actually participate in them.
Tony Hawk RIDE tried, but couldn't hack it...
I can understand why most skaters would rally against such a thing, and I may take a modicum of flack for saying this, but I, for one, see no problem in being able to try and share skateboarding with non-skaters. If the coordinators of the X-Games have somehow figured out a way to make a televised skateboarding event that people who don't skate can watch, and relate to, than I, for one, am all for the idea of skaters being able to sit down in front of the TV for four days in July with their families, friends, and significant others, and have a moment in which the joys of the activity they love can, to a degree, be shared with the people around them. Provided the contest coordinators continue their recent trend of listening to actual skateboarders before making decisions (cancellation of women's vert notwithstanding), the future looks surprisingly bright, and I will set my PVR to record the contest next year, in the hopes that I will be treated to some more actual skateboarding, anyway.
There are seldom few things in this world that genuinely annoy me; I tend to follow a "live and let live" kind of mentality, and in doing so I make a habit of letting others' idiosyncrasies slide past me in the hopes that they will afford me the same immunity of my own. That being said, one of the aforementioned few things that do have a habit of getting under my skin is the use of the term "big words". Perhaps it's better that I elaborate on this point: while I have always had a well-rounded vocabulary and a generally good sense of eloquence, I don't want to come off as some kind of pretentious blowhard who scoffs at the lowly troglodytes who refer to words with roots more Latin than Germanic as "big". Rather my bone to pick is with those people who, whilst I am in the midst of trying to have a conversation with them, take their first opportunity to look at me, wide-eyed as a child witnessing it's first snowfall, and proclaim "wow, you use a lot of big words". I have heard that sentence all to often since I was young, and it bothered me as much in fourth grade (my first real recollection of such an event) as it does now. There is very little that I find quite as much a social turn-off as feeling like saying anything with three or more syllables will fly clear over any one individual's head; it makes trying to have a conversation with said person nigh impossible after that point, and forces me to instinctively judge them for sounding so infantile, leading to self-judgment of my own pompous windbaggery.
Chill, Dude, your kid's in good hands.
While my competent grasp of the English language may not have ever been particularly useful at parties, it has proved an invaluable tool in skateboarding, namely in all my years teaching it. While I have taken ineffable joy from watching as young skaters better themselves under my tutelage, I have had the opportunity to gain further satisfaction in allowing myself to be a face and a voice for skateboarding, especially to those who don't skate. Knowing full well the stigmas and stereotypes immediately associated with skateboarders, I have always made an effort to, when interacting with parents, show that while skateboarders may not all be the most well-kempt, individuals, we are not all the Spicoli-voiced mental midgets that the world has, by and large, made us out to be.
What I find infuriating, though, is that for all my efforts to shuck this veil of unintelligent slackerdom from myself and anyone else who skateboards, the stereotype somehow manages to perpetuate itself. It amazes me to even see that there are sponsored amateurs and young pros these days who do not have their high school diploma. Again, I try not to be a judgmental individual, and I am aware that many of the older pros had little other choice but to drop out in order to further their careers as skateboarders; between contests, demos, and eventually filming duties, their schedules quickly became non-conducive to spending seven hours a day for nine months in a classroom. Many of these pros have gone back and received their diplomas, and for this I commend them. The current generation, however, has no excuse. It has been made clear the options that these kids are afforded; home-schooling, correspondence courses, and even some schools allowing actual skateboarding to be treated as a Physical Education credit.
While Louie did his undergrad in English, he actually has his
Masters in fingerflip lein-to-tails.
Could one argue that there is simply a lack of educated role-models for these young skaters? Hardly. John Rattray, Adelmo Jr., Rob Gonzales, Louie Barletta, Andrew Cannon, and several other well-established pros are not only high school graduates, but university graduates as well. Rattray is well-versed in literature from Darwin to Vonnegut, Barletta had the initial dream of being a professor of English, and Cannon is, himself, an accredited high school teacher! I oftentimes get excited when I have the opportunity to read or watch an interview with more educated pros, because I am usually treated to some really intellectual stuff. So, having established that most of North America has tried to make high school nigh-impossible to fail, and knowing that there exists well-educated skateboarders all the way up to the professional ranks, one must ask why so many skateboarders allow themselves to be viewed as slack-jawed lowlifes.
Behold, the face of popular skateboarding......
The answer, I think, is due largely to the fact that, for as much as I can wax poetic about Rodney Mullen's 4.0 GPA studying nuclear physics, skateboarding has always seemed to make a point of celebrating stupidity. Now, on the one hand, I could ramble on for days about CKY, Jackass, or even Shake Junt; anyone who skates knows what I'm talking about, and many (especially in reference to Shake Junt) may take this as a kind of unwarranted attack from some know-it-all who uses big words to make up for the fact that he can't do switch flips.
See what happened there? This largely comes back to the "big words" point I made at the start of the post, and kind of the larger problem in general. Not just skateboarding, but society on a whole has, for years, celebrated inanity; I mean, for god's sake, I spent the entire last year in a University lecture on Classical History, sitting just in front of a young woman who one day proudly proclaimed to her two cohorts that in an effort to sound smarter, she was reading the dictionary to learn some, you guessed it, big words. The latest addition to her arsenal? Durgatory.
"Um, do you mean derogatory?" Cohort One offered.
"Oh, yeah, I guess so... I don't even know." She replied. Much giggling commenced.
Is this the guy who calls skaters "fags", or the guy gripping
your board at the shop? Is it sad that I can't tell?
So, what's the difference, then? Why would the average bystander shoot me a dirty look, and assume that I dropped out of school at fifteen, only to likely smile at Miss Durgatory? At the end of the day, what it seems to boil down to is that, as skaters, there are many of us who simply don't care how we are viewed by the rest of the world, to the point where it is almost an unwritten assumption that, as a skater, it is one's duty to shirk societal norms such as organized education, or education at all, for that matter, in favour of conforming to the decades-old paradigm of "coolness", with the unfortunate result being a celebration of acting like the kind of slack-jawed football jocks we all claim to despise, only without the promise of a scholarship to Notre Dame. The rest of the world, in turn, maintains the notion that skateboarders are just a bunch of good-for-nothing bums by virtue of the fact that most of them talk like they've hit their heads on the concrete one too many times.
So yes, contrary to what the above rant may cause one to assume, I am proud to be a skateboarder, and to be a part of so unique a subculture. That being said, though, I am also proud to be able to engage in intelligent conversations with the average non-skater, in the hopes that one day, such an act will not be seen as exceptional. Further, I implore the younger generations of skaters, those who perhaps fear ostracism in light of making known their capacity for complex thought, that there is no need to feel ashamed of or embarrassed by a well-nourished mind. Skateboarders have always shown a lack of fear in the face of big things, be they big drops, big handrails, big ramps, or big bowls; it's about time skateboarding got over it's crippling fear of big words.
I can't believe it's already been a month since I posted the first iteration of this segment. For that matter, I can't believe it's already been three months since I started this blog. To all of you out there who make up my regular readership, my sincerest thanks go out to you; you guys are the reason I put forth an effort to write original material and consistently post twice a week. That being said, I apologize for today's post being so late, hopefully my posting a regularly occurring segment named after a Spaghetti Western will make up for it. In all seriousness, though, thank you for the continued readership.
Thank-yous and dry wit aside, here are the BTJ Good, Bad, and Ugly for July 2011.
The Good: CPH Pro 2011
Some of you probably remember this post, in which I ranted from the metaphorical soapbox-atop-my-porch about these newfangled all-concrete plaza style street contests, and how they lack the kind of character of the good old wooden ramps, street and vert contests I had to skate ten miles barefoot through three feet of snow to watch. Well, on the one hand, I have watched the three stops of Street League up to this point this year, and have enjoyed doing so, as in all fairness the skating is of a very high level, and it is genuinely entertaining. That being said, I still stand by my arguments that 1) the all-plaza contest is not conducive to the current trend of all-terrain skaters, and 2) for the level of training and dedication required to skate transitions at a professional level, vert guys deserve more contests than they get.
Enter the 2011 Copenhagen Pro contest. I never, in previous years, paid much mind to skate contests overseas, save maybe the Bondi and Marseilles Bowl contests, but this year, by whatever strange pangs of curiosity (perhaps largely linked to doing "research" for the blog), I felt compelled to take a peek at the footage for this year's CPH Pro as it came trickling in though my various regular online skate news haunts.
Frontside Hip Ollie, CPH 2011 Bowl
The first thing that really drew my attention was Thrasher's edit of the bowl contest. It seems that bowl contests are really starting to overtake halfpipe contests, and maybe that's what ought to be happening; I mean, for one thing there are more skatepark bowls with vertical sections in North America now than thirteen foot tall vert ramps, bowl contests add a level of adaptability to the vertical contest circuit, as no two are alike, and although 99 times out of 100 a vert skater wins it, it is kind of cool to see the Runes, Pedros, Bobs and Buckys skating alongside the TNTs, Bingamans, and Taylors in the same contest. I think, though, past the actual skating in the contest, what caught my eye about the edit was the use of some fitting (read: 80s Hardcore) music. The individual who shared the video out on his Facebook page I think summed up many people's feelings about the music used in these internet skate videos pretty well with the comment "Minor Threat fits, not Michael Jackson..."
Frontside Hip Ollie, CPH 2011 Street
The next thing that really caught my eye was the layout of the street course, which really brings me back to the initial preamble of this section. Absent are the neck-high hubbas and fifty-foot long flatbars of Rob Dyrdek's Nyjah Huston show, instead replaced with a tight little L-shaped street course that's more Double Rock that Downtown LA. Apparently, the park designers got together and opted not to use California Skateparks' "let's make half the competitors soil themselves" model (possibly due to copyright restrictions), and instead thought that maybe a course that looked fun and enjoyable to skate wasn't a bad idea. And for those out there who still want to argue that this kind of layout isn't "real" street enough, take a look at the top three: 1)Luan de Oliviera, 2)Dennis Busenitz, 3)Chris Cole.
Your argument is in invalid.
The Bad: "Coolness"
Now, I know, historically speaking skateboarding has been far more elitist in the past than today: many pros have attested to the fact that these days you can get away with doing freestyle, or a footplant trick at a skatepark, whereas fifteen years ago such behaviour would result in sideways looks and hurled insults. So, why is it, then, that when Thrasher posts the now probably viral video of a kid doing an early grab backflip to 50-50 on a skatepark hip (yeah, you read that right) over half the comments on the video are negative?
Again, this:
Accompanied by such comments as:
...should have went in to fakie
gay
He's strapped to the board - that's why he back 3's so easily afterwards and stays stood on the board right to the end.
I like metal ramps and 3rd degree burns.
And my personal favourite,
Is this supposed to be cool?
Now, aside from the atrocious grammatical errors brought about by the ills of this generation, I really would love to know where these people get off, exactly, deciding what is and isn't "cool" in skateboarding. What's wrong, kids? Is it because the video doesn't feature Peter Hewitt or Burnside? Are you sad because you got made fun of for doing early grabs as a grom, and now you're transferring your own repressed feelings of inadequacy? Or maybe you just need to try to bully people on the internet to make yourself feel better because your two-mile-an-hour flatground hardflips don't look ugly, and now the big boys at your park won't count them in games of S-K-A-T-E. Whatever the modus behind it, we need to move past it once and for all, because if skateboarding shoots itself in the foot like this much more, how will it have anything left to push itself forward?
The Ugly: The X Life
Question: Have any of you out there reading this ever wondered what would happen if you crossed over one of those Real Housewives shows with the lives of three different action sports professionals? No? Me neither. Good thing no one ever brought that idea to fruition, right?
Oh, wait..... they did. And yes, it is awful.
Wait... Shouldn't you three be on TLC
or something...
You see, as per the aforementioned shooting oneself in one's own foot, there are a litany of stereotypes that anyone who actually cares about the health of skateboarding have been trying to shake for years now. The problem with shows like The X Life, as with most reality shows in general, is that the producers know very well that perpetuating the stereotypes inherent in the "cast" will lead to better ratings. As a result, once a week the same audiences, and their parents, who revel in such works of high art as Jersey Shore, Teen Moms,and Five Girls, One Gay, are treated to a half hour of a pro BMXer with a death wish and his ever-understanding, albeit clueless, girlfriend and kids, a pro motocross rider whose shrew of a trophy wife enables him to be an irresponsible man-child all the same, and an unassuming pro vert skater (Pierre-Luc Gagnon) who gives the impression that the only reason he's still with his psychotic loudmouth party-girl wife is because he secretly fears for his well-being otherwise.
Clearly an accurate representation of married life as a skater
Now, I'm not entirely sure where to begin here. For one thing, I want to point out that by no means do I know any of these people, and this initial impression of them is based on a heavily-edited twenty-odd minutes of footage that they are being paid to do. This, really, is the base of most of my gripes about the show. I am a huge fan of documentary, fly-on-the-wall type shows, such as the behind-the-scenes look at the offices of the webcomic Penny Arcade. Documentaries allow for the entire breadth of a person's or people's characters to show. In the case of shows like The X Life, along with every other reality skatesploitation pile of refuse that MTV has churned out in the past decade, the producers are not interested in realism, or documenting the entirety of their titular subjects, but are instead concerned with sensationalism. This, in turn, leads to a whole host of other issues. Skaters don't watch it because they know it's terrible, and oftentimes the skaters featured therein lose most, if not all their credibility within the fan-base. The people who watch the show, in turn, see little more that the perpetuation of the stereotypes that have haunted skaters and skateboarding since the '70s, and this, in and of itself, is not healthy for us. In short, these shows end up helping no one but the already-richer-than-you MTV executives, and I am left repeating my same plea from last month: Can somebody please get Stacy Peralta or Mark Jeremias on the phone and get some decent skateboarding back on the air?
Twenty-five years ago today, though I was unaware of it (and probably most things) at the time, a good portion of my life was set in stone. This twist of fate, one may even go so far as to call it destiny, came in the form of Brad McGinn making his way into this world.
When we were kids, Brad and I were often mistaken for
brothers; to this day, that hasn't changed.
I met Brad for the first time in Kindergarten; he was, if I remember correctly, a good couple notches more hyperactive than I was. Making friends at such an early age usually involves little social vetting, and the resulting friendships almost inevitably dissolve sometime between the next day and high school graduation. Brad and I, in spite of a brief falling out in the sixth grade, were almost inseparable through more or less all of grade school. By the end of eighth grade, however, the friendship had seemed to have run its course.
Brad and I spent the majority of our high school years with different friends, doing different things. I hung out with anime geeks, skated, and started listening to punk rock, and he hung out with goth kids, got into running, and started listening to metal. Come senior year we had but one common friend, and through said friend he and I reconnected.
Also, I found out that Brad had just started skateboarding.
I often like to recount the first time we skated together. I invited Brad out to my subdivision, to skate a modular park that set up in the parking lot of the local soccer fields. All told, not much skating happened, because about twenty minutes into the session, Brad's brand new ten gig iPod fell and broke*.
Even our trick selection seems related: twin streetplants, 2009.
To this day, I truly cannot think of what my skateboarding would have been like were it not for that day back in 2004, or for that matter, this very day back in 1986. Since then, Brad and I have learned tricks from and with one another, skated contests and demos together, released parts for the same videos, and even wound up skating for the same board sponsor. We've watched each other progress and mature, not only as skaters, but as people in general: I watched him learn inverts and frontside grinds, and at the same time I watched him meet the love of his life, and was one of the first people to see her engagement ring, even before she did. I visited him when he broke his leg, and he did the same for me. The stories I have are nearly unending, but for the sake of relative brevity I'll leave them at that. Though we now live far enough apart and have enough responsibilities that we don't skate together all the time, and very rarely for an entire day, when we do get together we have just as much fun as we did back in high school, learning bertlemanns on our local pyramid and then going to Taco Bell and ordering drive-thru with fake Scottish accents.
I may have learned frontside airs first, but Brad's got 'em
better than I probably ever will.
Brad has told me from time to time that he's not sure if he'd still be skating if we weren't such good friends. While I hate to entertain the notion for either of us, I wonder if I could say the same. Thankfully, I need not worry about the notion, as the litany of e-mails and text messages between the two of us contemplating trick ideas only serves as a confirmation of the fact that he and I are in this for life.
So happy birthday, Brad. You are, among other things, a great skater, a stand-up guy, and very possibly the best friend I could ask for. Enjoy your day, and I'll see you at the party this weekend.
*Editor's note: Don't worry about the iPod: Brad got the extended warranty, and got it replaced the next day.
As per usual, before I kick off the main attraction today, I have a brief announcement. I was thankful enough to receive many a good word about my previous post. My greatest worry in writing it was that, being written from a singularly male perspective, it would come off as skewed and one-dimensional. I had planned to gather some insight from some female skaters with whom I am pleased to be acquainted, but due to scheduling conflicts said insight was unattainable in time. The good news, however, is that I do plan on posting a second part to the story, focusing on what the ladies have to say. In the meantime, however, you're still stuck with just me and my usual semi-weekly ramblings.
On that note, on to your regularly scheduled ramblings!
I don't typically watch the annual Battle at the Berrics contest. If any of you reading this are under the age of eighteen, you are likely completely flabbergasted, but either those who know me or are past the age of suffrage are likely much less surprised. That being said, while spending three months following several professional bracketed games of S-K-A-T-E appeals little to me, I did recently watch the final match of the latest iteration, if only because Morgan Smith conquered PJ Ladd, and the fact that he did so on Canada Day tugged on my red and white heartstrings just tight enough to cause me to click "play".
Above: Morgan Smith. Ten points to those who know where this spot is.
The first ever indoor park I skated was the now-defunct Common Ground. I only ever skated there once, with Brad, who had skated it several times before and after. It was 2005, and I can remember Brad describing to me a park local named Morgan Smith, whose flatground flip capabilities were seemingly more on-point than the lines of flash code that Brad now uses to make a living for himself. The day I went to the park, sure enough, Morgan was there, and sure enough, his flip tricks were flawless. At the time, I thought it was astonishing. To this day, I maintain that. Somewhere, however, in the last six and a half years, something changed. The kind of cleanliness and perfection I once sought after, drooled over, and stood in amazement of, became astonishingly boring.
Above: "Illusion Flip"
I think, somewhere down the line, it started with hardflips. Yes, the bane of many a burgeoning street skater's existence. There was a time, for those of you who either weren't around or don't care to remember, when the hardflip could be executed in what has now been dubbed an "illusion flip" style: legs spread eagle, knees bent up toward the armpits, and the board kind of folding over itself while half-flipping. Technically, the kickflip frontside shove-it motion the board was supposed to be doing could be miniscule, at best, and somewhere down the line, someone decided that this would not do. By about 2003, no self-respecting magazine ran photos of hardflips unless they were flipped and rotated to perfection. Skateboarding had upped its standards of acceptability, and the "illusion flip" went the way of the benihanna and the stinkbug frontside air. This was how it was supposed to be, right? Progression is what keeps skateboarding moving, right? Well, yes, but here is where I and the rest of skateboarding seem to disagree: I think proper hardflips, by and large, look awful.
Above: a "proper" (read: hideous) hardflip
Now, to be fair, there are people who, on occasion, manage to add some flair to the modern hardflip and make it digestible. Truth be told, these people are probably why most overlook how the majority of skaters look doing it: legs and arms swiveling about wildly before attempting to achieve a kind of mid-flip fetal position, knees at one's chin, ankles nearly fusing together, hunching up like some kind of ungodly marriage of Sonic the Hedgehog and Gollum.
"But Brandon," you probably aren't saying, but I am for the sake of furthering this post, "who cares if most people make the hardflip look like the time-lapse of a shriveling prune? The board flips perfectly, and they always land perfectly on the bolts. Perfection is good, right?" Well yes... and no. Precision is important with modern flip tricks, and the hunchback flip is probably the most awkward flip trick conceivable, but at the end of the day, it is simply an unattractive looking trick for most. Just because you can play the solo to Master of Puppets flawlessly at an eighth the original tempo does not mean you should play it in front of an audience.
Above: This used to be considered "robotic" and "style-less"
So, why so many photos and video clips of Igor flips? It comes back to Morgan Smith and the Battle at the Berrics. As skateboarders, and skateboarding on a whole, have become more technical, style has been pushed aside in favour of perfection and cleanliness. Actually, allow me to amend that: Style has gradually become synonymous with perfection and cleanliness. Aesthetic appeal now no longer depends on how a skater looks doing a trick, so much as with how little effort he or she appears to have done it.
I maintain that the amount of skill necessary to perform any maneuver from any stance with perfect form is a very noteworthy feat, but to what degree are we allowing this obsession with sterile Orwellian skating to rob us of the soul of individual style?
Above: Nollie flip.... I think.... hard to tell... Oh well, BOLTS!
Nollie flips are a prime example of my point. Specifically, the flatground use-in-a-line variety. Paul Rodriguez could probably pop fifty in a row across an eight-inch wide ledge without breaking a sweat, and anyone who didn't know he was goofy wouldn't be able to tell if they were nollie or fakie. Good for him; I'm sure when skateboarding makes it into the Olympics, the hard-nosed Russian judge will give him a 10.0 on his dismount. Conversely, someone like Fritz Mead or Tony Trujillo would pop a nollie flip with such reckless abandon and so little actual nollie experience that they would likely have a hard time passing a sobriety test with it, even in a state of complete sobriety. The difference? The latter oozes the kind of personality that the former seems afraid to roll over for fear of getting it on its fresh white Nikes.
And I, for one, would take personality over perfection any day.
I apologize for missing Monday's update: this post was a bit of a doozie, and required a week's worth of attention. Hopefully you agree that the extra time spent was worth it.
So, my girlfriend skateboards. She didn't always, and as a matter of fact it was not until about a year and a half back, when she casually decided to play around with one of my spare setups, that the thought of riding a skateboard had occurred to her at all.
She loves skating, and she has a blast doing it, though despite her frankly uncanny sense of balance, she rarely skates, and never without me there. I really can't blame her; putting oneself out there on a skateboard, especially in front of other skaters, can be intimidating until you feel comfortable enough. I had the good fortune of picking up skateboarding at a relatively young age, and having a big unfinished basement in which to hone my skills before really ever skating at parks with any kind of frequency, whereas my girlfriend is twenty-three, and really has nowhere private where she can increase her comfort level and boost her confidence. Further, and as much as it pains me to say it, it doesn't help that my girlfriend is, you know, a girl.
Men are from Mars, Women are from Venice, amirite guys?
I touched very briefly on the issue of the role of women within skateboarding back in my video games post, but I think the issue goes far beyond the existence of Hubba Wheels ads. I can't really blame my girlfriend for not wanting to go to skateparks to skate; as it stands, skateparks are intimidating places for the average twelve-year-old boy who hasn't mustered the skill set required to ollie down some stairs or rock fakie a quarter pipe. At the very worst, this kid is shot the odd look of annoyance for getting in the way. Put a young adult woman in the same scenario, and the intimidation factor is amplified three-fold, and worries of being secretly judged as "just some dude's girlfriend getting in the way" can result in crippling self-consciousness.
Occasionally, my girlfriend and I will watch a skate video together. After doing last week's review of the Element video, we decided to watch it together because 1) She read the post and was interested, and 2) I thought she might get excited watching Vanessa Torres' part in the video.
I don't want to sound chauvinistic, but I always think that girls might get as, if not more excited watching a good part with a female skater than a good part with a male skater, that it might help boost a female skater's confidence by watching another female skater rip it up. If I'm wrong in this assumption, than it really only adds more fuel to the point of this post. My girlfriend has watched plenty of videos, and has seen plenty of female skaters, and while she appreciates the skating in general, there is often one point that she brings up when the female skaters take the screen:
"Why do they always dress like frumpy dudes?"
In writing about this, I am aware that I am walking on a dangerously slippery slope of thin ice. I had never really considered the implications of how female skaters dress until it had been brought up by another female skater. While I don't wish to generalize here, I think it is safe to say that the majority of female skaters dress rather masculine. If this is how they choose to dress, far be it from me to point fingers and dissuade; comfortable jeans a t-shirt and a trucker cap are what I like to wear when I skate, too. What worries me is not that some girls choose not to dress "girly", but that they may not feel like they have a choice in the matter.
Let's be honest: Elissa Steamer's Madonnas are better than mine.
As mentioned above, a skatepark can be an intimidating place for any skater, and more so for a girl. Skateboarding is an inherently rough and tumble activity, and the girls who skate may very well be nervous enough about being judged on their skating, much less about being seen as some frou-frou ditzy twit who doesn't want to ruin her new manicure. I can understand that oftentimes these girls are just trying to fit in and be "one of the guys", and anyone in any social atmosphere has experienced the same. The ironic part of it is that as of late I have seen more eyeliner and tight pants on male skaters than female ones.
Blogger's representation of half of all current skatepark patrons
I think the real solution here, if I may be so bold, is greater female participation. If the vilification of femininity in skateboarding stems from puerile adolescent stereotyping, than bring in some more girls to kill that stereotype dead. I, for one, welcome the notion.
Apologies for the late post: life is like a hurricane here in Duckberg, you know how it gets sometimes...
Yes, blatant excuse to use this clip, can you blame me?
Ten points for anyone who can name the correlation between my opening sentence and the above video clip. Now then, on to the rest of the post.
Skateboarding Is.... Dropping In.
Riding down a transition. Really, Brandon? This is your big monthly revelation? Stop the presses and get Phelper on the phone, because somebody ought to pay this guy some good money for so poignant an observation!
Now, before you say anything, or maybe try to have me institutionalized on account of how much I talk to myself in this blog, hear me out.
Yes, I'm writing an entire post on the act of riding down a transition, because it is a maneuver that implicitly carries with it so much. As much as I disagree with the subversively militaristic nature of the Boy Scouts, I feel inclined to liken dropping in to that merit badge that every real scout eventually gets; not one of those easy ones like the one you get for keeping your brother's old hand-me-down comic collection, but one that requires a deep enough skill set that, by receiving it, you can verify and legitimize your connection to an elite group. It's a rite of passage, so to speak.
*Gulp* Wasn't this thing only four feet tall?
Perhaps part of what makes the drop-in so special is the process of learning it. Everyone remembers what it was like learning how to drop in: you know how to push around, maybe you've got tic-tacs on lock. Bank ramps are a joke to you now, you just roll right down them like nothing matters. You figure "a quarterpipe? how hard can it be?", and then you actually stand in position.
If there is one thing I have learned, or maybe re-learned, from years upon years of teaching kids how to drop in, it's that the inevitable battle that accompanies it is over fifty percent mental. Fear is, more often than not, one's own greatest adversary in skateboarding, and dropping in is the first real confirmation of that fact for most skaters. Learning how to drop in sort of contrasts with how most of us are instinctively wired to deal with fear: most anything in life that requires us to conquer our fears can usually be tiptoed into, so to speak. That is to say, there is often an acceptable middle ground with most things. When one is discussing the drop-in, however, this middle ground will get you hurt. The result? Endless numbers of skaters learning to drop in who, by virtue of their innate sense of hesitation, end up suffering the inevitable slam. Indeed, almost more so than anything else, a proper drop-in requires complete commitment and a mastery over one's fear. Those who have dropped in on anything can attest to the fact that rolling away successful for the first time is euphoric, easily on par with landing your first kickflip, except for the fact that one cannot really drop in on a ten square foot patch of their parents' basement.
I wonder if Tony reacted the same way to his first drop-in...
The most interesting thing, I have noticed, about dropping in, is that no matter how comfortable one gets at it, as soon as one is faced with doing so on a larger ramp, it is as if that feeling of comfort and fearlessness is magically erased. Speaking from experience, I can attest to the fact that there is very little difference between dropping in on a six foot mini ramp and a twelve foot vert ramp, and yet the amount of coaxing required to get me to drop in on vert the first time was astounding. Interesting, too, is the fact that the euphoric rush that accompanied my first successful drop in was present as well. All that was missing from the equation was the uncomfortable week of repeated slamming, replete with my stray board taking out a couple of spindles of the railing at the other end of the ramp...
In summation, dropping in is, at its core, just riding down a transition. Further analysis, however, shows a plethora of things. Dropping in is a personal landmark, a rite of passage, a conquest of one's own fear and an advancement of one's own abilities. Dropping in is skateboarding, and conversely....
Skateboarding, or rather the act of professional skateboarding, has always been in a constant state of flux. The path one takes to make a career out of riding a skateboard has, in many ways, been entirely dependent on technological accessibility. For a good fifteen years or so, the pattern was pretty well set: sponsor-me video, amateur part, pro part, and by that time, you'd have made it. The rise of the internet, and of youtube, however, has for better or worse, changed the game. Sponsor-me tapes shot by mom or dad with the family camcorder have been replaced by whole youtube channels filled with clips shot on your best friend's iPod. Getting on a team now involves a web-exclusive welcome part, and provided you spend enough time at the Berrics, you're liable to have your board sponsor turn you pro, only to film another web-exclusive clip. The few companies that do release full-length videos now spend upwards of five years on a project. At this rate, it will not be long before full-length skate video releases are a thing of the past.
One of the last videos I got in hard copy that predates the rise of web-exclusivity was Element's Elementality: Volume One. The video was released in 2005, around the time Element had its tightest stranglehold on the skateboard market. I felt compelled to re-watch it the other day while doing my ankle exercises, and though it had been a while since my last viewing, it holds up as a solid video. While I'm not sure if I'll make this into another monthly segment, every now and then I may re-watch an old video in my collection and share some of my thoughts on it.
Regardless of what kind of skateboarding you most entertaining to watch, you find a kind of variety in Elementality that really hasn't existed in skateboard teams since the early 90s. Most companies have a tendency of adhering to a particular image, and build their teams around said image (see Baker, Anti-Hero, Creature, DGK, Girl..... okay, most of them). What made, and still makes this video so great is the fact that the only image it is trying to convey is skateboarding. Some of the street parts feature handrail skating, but not all of them. All of the skaters stand out in their own unique way, and each full part is memorable in its own right. Even the pros who didn't have full parts (Mike Vallely and Chris Senn), had plenty of footage, all of which was of a high enough calibre to remain memorable.
All told, I could very well give an in-depth critique of every part in the video, but rather than bore the lot of you with such, I do feel an obligation to talk about what, to this day, remains the most surprising part of the video: Bam Margera.
the first skate magazine I ever got featured an interview with Bam back when he was still on Toy Machine. The interview featured good skating, but nothing particularly mind-blowing, and in the five-year gap between that interview and the Element video, most, if not all of the footage Bam released was Jackass related. In instances like this, one feels inclined to assume the obvious; that the guy who releases more footage of inflicting bodily harm on himself than of actual skateboarding has probably fallen off the wagon, so to speak. His face is on the cover of the video because his antics make for good board sales, and his part will probably be just that: more antics than skating.
The first time I watched the video I had to pick my jaw up off the ground for the explicit purpose of eating my own words.
Dude, he skates?
Are there shenanigans? Of course, but they manage to not overshadow the skating. Skating which is not just good, but great. Bam's inherent reckless abandon comes through in his Elementality part, which brings a kind of power to his skating that is matched only by the awe-factor of a few of his more technical tricks. While I cannot say that I've always been a fan of Bam, I can at least say that I appreciate his skating.
All in all, I still rank the video among one of my top 10, and recommend it to all of you out there....
Earlier this week, I was sitting down in front of the TV doing some research for this blog. Some of you may be wondering how the idle ramblings of a skater in his mid-twenties with a bum ankle could in any way necessitate research. Research is often equated with the idle shuffling through google, or occasionally through a book (editor's note: books are things, kids - google them for yourself), the kind of shuffling that often leaves one borderline catatonic and in need of some manner of mental stimulation. How, then, you might ask, can you claim that the immersion of the mind in all things skateboarding can in any way come close to research?
Well, for one thing, readers into whose mouths I just shoved words, research does not always equal boredom. I spent years researching ancient and not-so-ancient history, and from time to time the material was engaging, and even exciting to sift through. For another thing, the research subject in which I was about to imbibe was in no way something to be looked forward to.
As a bit of a preempt, I suppose I ought to explain why I was about to subject myself to something that was, by all rights, an ungodly mess. Skateboarding tends to grab people in various different ways, shapes, and forms. Some people relish the simple act of skateboarding itself. Some live and die by whatever hot new trends are coming down the pike via magazines, videos, and the internet. Few people have want or need for the decades of triviality that have accompanied the activity since its inception. I happen to be one of those few.
Perhaps it stems from my early adolescent equation of "the more you know about skating, the more you are a 'real' skater", or from the years of studying history. Maybe it just boils down to the fact that I've always been a big nerd. Whatever the reason, I seem to have this deep compulsion to expose myself to anything that involves skateboarding in even the slightest amount, the good, the bad, and the inevitably ugly. With that being said, consider this a new monthly feature on top of "Skateboarding Is...", where I'll look at one thing that has fallen into each of these categories for me in the last month.
The Good: Go Skateboarding Day 2011
This one seems like it ought to be obvious, like I ought to be talking about something else: The one day of the year that is dedicated to skateboarding and skateboarders (at least in our own minds). If you could skate, I hope you did.
There is more to my mentioning the now annual event, however. This week, as the annual pile of GSD footage came rolling in from this company and that, I noticed a greater-than-ever geographical breadth to it. Among the most notable was an edit from Tehran, Iran, as well as news of NPO and overall third-world do-gooders Skateistan holding events for the first time in Phnom Phen, Cambodia. Footage like this not only warms the heart with the knowledge that even the youth of war-torn and destitute locations can find solace in skating, but it also reminds those of us lucky enough to live in G8 nations just how lucky we are. Not to sound preachy, but I have a seven-inch long piece of titanium holding my fibula in place after Humpty-Dumptying the thing at an exquisitely built concrete park, and all I paid for was the cast and some pain killers. You can bet the next time I'm even skating a curb that I'll be trying to enjoy it half as much as the skaters of the third world.
The Bad: Free Pegasus
Okay, now that I had my moment on the soap box, time to be critical. I can remember watching Brian Lotti's first foray into the fly on the wall street mockumentary, 1st and Hope, and loving it. The whole thing was beautifully orchestrated, with a genuine tone, and cinematography that made it seem like you were actually witnessing a day in the lives of a bunch of skaters in Los Angeles. To this day, I watch it and it gets me stoked to go out in the streets and just skate.
On paper, Free Pegasus seems like another winner: the same basic formula, but set in international skate mecca Barcelona. I was genuinely excited to see the two protagonists were Clint Peterson and Cooper Wilt, but that was, for the most part, where the excitement ended. Don't get me wrong, the skating in the video was good, really good in spite of the relatively sparse number of notables in the cast. The real reason Free Pegasus fell flat was that it simply felt too forced. There was far more dialogue in this offering, as well as the introduction of sub-plots, and supporting characters that didn't skate. Any realism that Lotti managed to convey in 1st and Hope was lost in a sea of foreign film-esque character development, sub-par acting on the part of the skaters, and one very out-of-place Clint Peterson fisheye line at MACBA. While I do Hope Brian Lotti tries another one of these types of videos, I hope he does so with a return to form.
The Ugly: Disney XD's Zeke and Luther
When I had mentioned my research earlier, this was the abomination to which I was referring. Anyone who has a sibling or relative who was born after 1991 has probably had some kind of exposure to the plainly awful stuff that is Disney pre-teen sitcoms. Poorly written, poorly acted, poorly executed. The only thing that could possibly make them any worse? The obligatory wrenching in of skateboarding as a plot device. It's interesting to look at from a purely anthropological perspective, like reading Lord of the Flies, but more depressing.
The particular episode I had subjected myself to involved the titular characters (hereto known as straight kid and goofball), getting ready to celebrate their tenth anniversary of skating with a big party at the local doughnut shoppe (not actually spelled that way, just thought it might be amusing). Whilst reminiscing about the day when a random translucent green skateboard showed up in front of them, therein sealing our protagonists' destiny, it is revealed that footage exists of the event. Upon watching said footage, it is revealed that (le GASP) goofball rode the skateboard before straight kid, upsetting both their collective memory of the event, as well as their obvious hierarchy. The revelation leads to goofball declaring that during their next session, he would be "lead boarder", and the inevitable hijinx ensue. I won't bother boring you with the rest, as I've probably lost a good deal of my readership with the last paragraph alone. I can understand the desire to market skateboarding to youth, notably the "tween" crowd, but come on, Disney, you're better than that. Take a cue from Nickelodeon, and get Skate Master Tate on the phone.
