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.
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...
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....
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.
North America: in spite of half of the continent being founded on the want of freedom of choice and a puritanical value set, said continent is, on a whole, more or less the global bastion of conformity and decadence. Skateboarders have always prided themselves in their countercultural spirit, with countless skaters rejecting the status quo, dressing different than the preppy, popular jocks at their high school, or being content to live in squalor as long as they have their skateboard. Clearly the skateboarding population of North America is a shining example of all the good things that all the unwatched masses within the allegorical cave are not.
The above is a paragraph that I wish I could have typed out with a straight face and lack of ironic sarcasm.
Dressing "Like a Skater" circa 1987: I'm pretty sure murder will brand you and instant "poser"
Dressing "Like a Skater" circa 2008: Do you think she watched the Pool Party?
I love skateboarding, I love my country (the one to the north, whose colonization was based less on religious freedom and more on making a quick buck off beaver pelts... funny thing, that role-reversal), and I will admit, as I just did, that the continent on a whole revolves around following trends and living in excess. That being said, I cannot help but humbly disagree with all the adolescent ideologues out there who believe that North American skaters are any different than anyone else on this particular landmass in either respect. How else might one explain the fact that, for decades, skaters who didn't dress "like skaters" were branded as posers? This trend seems to have finally dissipated, though, as the entire world's youth now dress "like skaters", diving into either their local Hot Topic or Hip Hop surplus and crawling out three hundred dollars later with outfits that look like they cost twenty five bucks at a goodwill. Further, if popular skateboarding isn't full of excess and trendiness, than how does one explain how modern street skating has divulged into either a game of chicken with one's own kneecaps, or an exercise in cramming as many maneuvers onto a single ledge as humanly possible? I'm all for progression, but this is ridiculous.
Skateboarders on this side of the pond are, by and large, just as trend-conscious and excessive as all the other sheeple they so adamantly claim to reject. This is why Vertical and Freestyle died as soon as the big ball dropped in Times Square in 1990. At least, this is why they died, in North America.
Above: A Rodney Mullen Trick
If nothing else, Europeans can claim that their value of art is far superior to any and every North American. It's not surprising, then, that it was in Europe that Freestyle managed to stay stable, albeit still on life support. While it took until the year 2002 for Freestyle skating to again see the light of day over here, it seems to have been largely relegated to a passing affection; thirteen-year-olds learning some "Rodney Mullen tricks" to best their friends in games of S-K-A-T-E until their legs grow strong enough for them to learn frontside flips. In Europe, however, Freestyle maneuvers were nurtured and cultivated. Contests were held, videos were made, and pros released models. It would seem that, in North America, Freestyle was cast aside, except for the parts that could be used to throw oneself down a flight of stairs, deemed as useless for lack of an ability to fuel North American skaters' addictions for excessive speed, while in Europe, the skill and artistry of freestyle was nurtured as just that. It is for reasons like this that it was Spain, and not the united States, that gave the world Kilian Martin.
I had watched Kilian's videos several months back, and was plainly amazed by them, but it was not until recently, when a friend favourited A Skate Regeneration on her youtube page that the thought occured to me to say anything about him. The above mentioned, and shared, video seems a perfect example of an avenue of skateboarding that has been ill-examined. In a world where Aaron Homoki is launching himself down two-story drops and Tory Pudwill seems content doing no less than two different grind variations at once, the question that is posed more often than ever is "where do we go from here?". Kilian Martin's admittedly unique brand of skateboarding acts as a welcome answer to this quandary. In the smattering of footage that the twenty-four year old Madrid native has shared one can see a world of opportunities for any street skater with a good sense of balance, an open mind, and undoubtedly a world of patience.
Parting Shot: Gonz doing a Rodney Mullen Trick
To all the skaters out there reading this blog: the next time you're out street skating, and you find yourself at an impasse in terms of what to try next, pull out your undoubtedly internet-ready phone and find some old freestyle parts. I mean, it worked for the Gonz, right?
First off, a belated Happy Father's Day to any readers who possess both a Y chromosome and at least one child, I hope you enjoyed your day.
Second, a very happy birthday to my girlfriend Deanna, who, aside from making the amazing new banner for the site, is just an amazing person in general. I love you, honey.
Now, on with the post:
It seems as though mainstream society has stopped trying with skateboarding...
...again.
It's the same as it ever was, and is about due. Anyone who has been alive and cognizant for the last twenty years or more can testify to the cyclical nature of skateboarding's popularity, which is usually symbolized by a gradual increase over the first half of a decade, followed by a three or four year span of mainstream frenzy, and a subsequent meteoric plummet into a kind of near-death torpor over the course of the next decade's inaugural months. It happened in the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s, although the advent of the internet, as well as skateboarding video games caused a funny thing to happen during the 2000s; that is to say, from 2000 to now, the cycle reversed.
Another funny thing happened in the 2000s: The Osiris D3
Rather than suddenly plummeting back to Earth with enough force to drive it back underground, skateboarding experienced a solid wave of mainstream fame, and fortune up until around 2005 or so, when it seemed as though, rather than mainstream media dropping us like a dried up cash cow, as they are prone to do, skateboarding gradually backed away, leading us to today, in a society in which skateboarding is ever-present enough that skaters can make a decent living without the help of corporate non-skating puppet masters, leaving said puppeteers to look for more gullible pawns tacit investment opportunities. It seems to be working out alright for us skateboarders. Who wants to see skateboarding on TV every Saturday, anyway?
...Actually, I do kind of miss that part.
Okay, not all of it, but hear me out...
Now, I'll be the first to admit that my high-school years were filled with a supersaturation of "eXtreme!" television programming, and yes, much of it was unbelievably trying-too-hard cheesy, lumping skateboarding in with whatever fringe adventure-seeking activities execs could get their cocaine-dusted hands on, but there was, of course, the trade-off of knowing that every weekend from about April to October there was an excellent chance that there was some contest or another being broadcast on basic cable. To a teenage skate rat with no friends who skated themselves, this was a gift.
Thankfully, I started skating in 2000, so the gift wasn't painted stupid colours.
These days, it has become increasingly rare to see skateboarding on TV, so much so that I have my PVR set to record the Seattle stop of the Street League contest series. I can't remember the last time I watched a televised street contest, and to be perfectly honest, I don't know that I'll enjoy watching Street League as much as I enjoyed watching the X-Games, Gravity Games, Vans Triple Crown, and other such televised street contests of yore, largely due to the fact that I don't particularly care for the layout of modern street courses.
Maloof 2011 Las Vegas
I understand that skateboarding changes, and that said change has to be facilitated. I also realize that course layouts such as those built for the Maloof and Street League contests are more enticing to the more "hardcore" street guys who would otherwise scoff at the idea of skating contests. This does not, however, mean that I think that said street courses are either the most entertaining, or the best venues upon which to have pro skaters compete. Rather, it is my belief that courses such as are used in the Maloof and Street League contests are quite the opposite.
2011 Street League Seattle
In terms of the entertainment factor, these kinds of linear, spot-by-spot based street courses make for some of the least-fun-to-watch skateboarding. Does anybody know why ninety percent of a skater's video part is made up of tricks they landed? Because people watching the video don't want to watch forty-five minutes of ten guys trying one or two tricks apiece on a twelve-stair handrail. These courses are meant to replicate the experience of going to a street spot with a bunch of friends and sessioning, which is great if that's the kind of skating that you're into, and if you are the one skating. For the viewer, however, it becomes stale far too quickly, leaving one inclined to just wait for the video edits to come out online.
Slam City Jam 2001, Vancouver
In terms of whether or not these are the best venues in which to have pro skaters compete? I would not only disagree, but would also offer that such street courses are unbalanced and detrimental to contemporary skateboarding. The funny thing about street contests from seven to ten years ago compared to today, is that the street courses then incorporated elements of all kinds of skateboarding. While this kind of skatepark-centric course design wasn't indicative of the tech-gnar gap and handrail craze during the time, it favoured well-rounded skateboarding. Conversely, the street courses of today, while catering to the small contingent Chris Coles, Greg Lutzkas, and Nyjah Houstons who still make their careers out of spending more time traveling to a spot than riding a skateboard at it, completely ignore the fact that there has been a shift in skateboarding towards the all-terrain rider, who would have fared far better in street contests of days passed than they would in the modern all-day best trick carcass-tosses.
Me, personally? I say bring back the pyramids, bring back, the quarter pipes, bring back the masonite, and bring back the non-linear layouts. A skateboard contest should be judged on how well you ride a skateboard, not how well you repeatedly jump down a set of stairs on one. Besides, at least watching the old courses get torn down wasn't this painful...
As mentioned on Monday, skateboarding attracts people from all walks, with all manner of interests outside of, yet often ultimately tied to skateboarding. A good portion of these people are visual artists. Given the abstract, often undefinable nature of both, the combination of the two is oftentimes inevitable, with examples of skateboarding crossing over into one's artwork becoming exceedingly more commonplace, amid everyone from professional artists who skate,
Lance Mountain, Pro Skater who makes Art
to professional skaters who make art, and everyone in-between.
Equally noticeable, of course, are examples of art crossing over into skateboarding; that is to say rather than a canvas being used to depict skateboarding, a skateboard can be used as a canvas. In cases such as this, it's not in any way uncommon to see one skater's art with another skater's name on it.
Mind you, an artist's work, is not limited to canvas, or seven-ply Canadian maple. Indeed, much like in skateboarding, many an artist will use whatever is at their disposal as a forum for their creative drive. Just as their skateboarding counterparts have different decks, trucks, and wheels for street spots, pools, vert ramps, and skateparks, visual artists may have various brushes, inks, paints, and spray cans for canvas, wood, paper, and yes, skateparks.
Shepard Fairey, Professional Artist who Skates
Now, for anyone who has been reading this blog with any kind of frequency, some of you may have caught on to the way I've been writing recently, and the most perceptive will be able to tell that the above preamble now segues into the topic I really intended to talk about in this post's outset. It was spurned by a recent call I got from my friend Brad, informing me that his heavily graffitied local bowl, the notorious Vanderhoof, was in the process of being coated in a layer of matte white paint: a layer of paint that he assumed would be re-covered with graffiti by the week's end. He subsequently sent me the following e-mail regarding the cover-up job:
Out with the old...
"... it defiantly pisses me off of when bowls get graffitied... for reference I sent you the picture I sent on my phone.. I didn't take any photos [with my camera] though. But I did learn the boardslide fakie on the face wall."
Now, I understand, graffiti is inherently rebellious, skateboarding is inherently rebellious. Skaters want to hone their craft, graffiti artists want to hone their craft. I am, by no means, using this post as an attempt to admonish respectable graffiti artists for wanting a right to make art. On the other hand, however, is the case that while not everybody can ride a skateboard, anybody can buy a two-dollar can of black Krylon. The reason Vanderhoof is now coated in a layer of white is not because of the Autobots insignia carefully crafted on one wall of the hip, nor because of the clever "Vansderhoof" name-tag sprayed along the top of the tombstone's lip. Rather, Vanderhoof is likely looking more like Blanderhoof because some pubescent genius thought they were being clever by coating whatever free concrete was left with all manner of obscenities and genitalia, likely scrawled with about as much artistic skill as the neanderthal cave drawings scattered amid the prehistoric caves of modern France. Those who aren't offended by the content ought to be offended by the abhorrently poor "artwork".
Let this be a lesson to those of you out there who think that it is cool and clever to go to your local skatepark to spray paint an eight-year-old's representation of Mommy's last gynecological appointment, with a certain four-letter word describing the view: Bad graffiti is not cool or clever, it is a lame, juvenile, eyesore, and will ruin a potentially well-graffitied park for everybody. It could be repainted a dull white, or worse:
As like many skaters, my interests reach further than simply the act of riding a skateboard. Some make art, some make music, some even ride motocross. I, myself, am a gamer.
Video game culture, and being a gamer, has a lot of parallels, I find, with skate culture. Both acts have been historically scoffed away as being child's play; something cast aside as soon as one gets a driver's license and a girlfriend. On that note, both have historically attracted the socially maladjusted: many a skater who went to high school in the 80s or early 90s will recount tales of how admitting you skated was a sure-fire way to detract attention from the opposite sex - a trait undoubtedly shared by the gamers of the same era. Both have an admittedly shameful history of male-dominated participation, bordering at times on misogyny.
Both have seen an increase in acceptance and casual participation in the last decade, and both have a collective of 'core curmudgeons who often rue that this is the case. So why am I talking about all of this? Well, because today I'm talking about what happens when these two things come together.
Maybe six months or so prior to starting Between Two Junkyards, I had mused about the idea of doing a video-review show all about skateboarding video games, of which there have been countless iterations, dating back as far as the 1986 classic 720 Degrees Arcade game, ported to the Atari 2600. While I could go on for months on end writing reviews of the rarely good, often bad, and occasionally ugly history of skateboarding video games, it ultimately boils down to the fact that, for the last quarter century, video game developers have been trying to emulate the act of skateboarding, without actually using a skateboard.
Yeah... This seems about right...
What really got my mind stirring on this topic was a recent binge I went on this weekend of video game webcomics. Due to my inherent need to be completely up-to-date on whatever webcomics I read, I came across this strip about Tony Hawk Ride. It brought up an interesting point: it a skateboarding game good because it's fun, or because it's realistic?
Well... kind of both.
In preparation for this blog, I talked to my girlfriend, who both skates and is an avid gamer, her thoughts on the matter:
"[Realism]...because [a more realistic game] helps you learn tricks: if it's easy and you can't fail what's the point? No video game should be like that. Where is the challenge?"
Now, I will defend the first handful of Tony Hawk games to the death - they were great games, and they did the best job possible at the time of capturing the act of skateboarding. Unfortunately, however, as the games progressed, they jumped the shark in an unforgivably huge way...
I heard Brian Herman just Franklin Grinded the Hollywood 16.
RIDE was meant, I suppose, to remedy this, as well as jump all over the Great Peripheral Bandwagon of the late 2000s. The aforementioned comic argued that the game was too real to be fun, though as a skater who actually tried it, it seemed more so that the game was simply trying too hard, and fell flat both in realism and fun. A valiant effort, Tony, but you and I both know that skateboarding is far more complex than the game's controls can account for.
Perhaps EA's Skate series is the closest modern technology has come to offering a fun, challenging, and accurate representation of skateboarding. I know I've spent countless hours playing the games, whose admittedly intuitive control scheme did offer me some assistance on my real-life fakie bigflips. Still, though, at the end of the day, no ammount of thumb-based training can compare to the feeling of actually getting out there and feeling the board under your feet.
Although it is a nice way to kill time on a rainy day.
Well, I hope everybody enjoyed their weekends; I'm happy to report that my good friend's annual "Pro-Tec Pool Party...Party" was, again, a success. Those of you who got a chance to watch the contest are fully aware that it was, indeed, a sight to behold. Those of you who were unable to watch, however, allow me to break down my personal highlights (and lowlights):
The Masters' Division:
The Masters', as always, was a treat to watch. It was really cool this year to see 75% of the original Bones Brigade vert stars (Tony Hawk, Steve Caballero, Lance Mountain) skating a contest together for the first time in a couple of decades. Tony, who I had assumed was going to be a shoo-in for first, wound up placing fourth behind Chris Miller, Cab, and Lance respectively. In hindsight, this isn't entirely surprising, given Tony was a last-minute entrant. Granted, Tony had his 540s on lock the entire night (as did both Tony Mag and Sluggo, neither of whom made the finals), but his technical use of the bowl was simply not on par with the three guys who bested him. Regardless, Tony seemed to have had a good time, and his runs were entirely entertaining to watch, namely his circa 1985 Rage at the Badlands 360 slide and roll through the square corner. It's genuinely difficult to pinpoint a favourite part of the Masters' contest, though Chris Miller's zero-gravity high speed frontside air transfer into the round bowl will forever be tattooed into my psyche. Notable disappointments include a lack of Hosoi for Tony's big return to the combi, and a distinct lack of Jeff Grosso....
Well, except for this commercial, which incited a good laugh every time it aired between heats.
The Pro Division:
I genuinely feel for the judges on this one. Even in spite of Bucky not being present to throw nollie flip madonnas alongside mceggs and flying vs, the pros put on a show that had everybody out of their seats and up on their feet (author excluded, broken ankle and whatnot). As expected, Pedro Barros mimicked the recent shuttle launch with his straight airs, and tossed more 540 variations than most of the other pros combined. Andy MacDonald, who deserves way more recognition than he has ever received as a professional, mixed in the new and the old, added a heaping helping of consistency, and managed third place behind Pedro and Rune Glifberg respectively, with a particular standout being his repeated attempts at a FREAKING BACKFLIP BACKSIDE BONELESS TRANSFER ACROSS THE PENINSULA!!! God, I wish he'd made that one....
Ben Raybourne was a noticeable absence from this year, though it seemed that Tony Trujillo was put in place last minute to fill that "padless and unplanned" niche, though to be honest, I think Raybourne would have skated a bit better (no offense, Tony).
End of the day, I cannot say enough good things about the Party this year, but you really need to see it for yourself....
For a full archive of the entire 2011 Pro-Tec Pool Party, head to Vans' official site.
For a more abridged summation, check out the edits over at the Thrasher site.
First order of business: broken ankle.
Yep, stepped out of a backside 50-50 going entirely too fast last Wednesday, shattered and dislocated my left ankle. Got out of surgery today, and the prognosis was standard enough, though it may be another six months or so before I feel well enough to skate.
Yup, my foot was wrenched 90 degrees counter-clockwise. Never underestimate the speed of new metal coping...
Now then, enough about me, on to business.
It's no secret, except maybe among snowboarders and kids who grew up with Tony Hawk's Pro Skater, that grabs in skateboarding have different names depending on the direction in which they're rotate, and are therefore different maneuvers. In fact, this is such common knowledge that, you, the reader, are probably wondering why I'm wasting your all-to-precious time for the sake of telling you what ought to be a cardinal truth among skateboarders. Indeed, at this rate I'd be better off to say "Class Dismissed", pack up early, and let my pain meds sing me a chemically-induced lullaby.
Or would I?
I feel that the nomenclature of aerials is a very worthy topic, for a couple of reasons:
1) While I had mentioned earlier in this post that the proper nomenclature of grab tricks in skateboarding is, more or less, common knowledge among skateboarders, this is, sadly, not the case. That being said I feel obliged to rifle off the proper names of every grab maneuver, depending on whether or not it's performed spinning frontside or backside. Odds are you know the name of at least one of the two variations, and if not, feel free to leave a comment in which I'll specify the details of it.
Frontside Air/Indy Air
Benihanna/Benibongo
Lein/Backside
Lein to Tail/Body Jar
Lein Judo/ Judo
Lein Method/Method
Madonna/Frigid (not to tail), Sean Penn (to tail)
Slob/Mute
Slob Japan/Japan
Stalefish/Backside Stalefish
Tailgrab/ Backside Tailgrab
This list happens to lead me to the reason I was inspired to write this article in the first place.
2)There is no proper name for certain aerial maneuvers. The two main perpetrators of this are, as mentioned on the above list, Backside Stalefish and Bakcside Tailgrab. Both of these tricks have been done frequently enough to warrant being given their own names separate from their frontside counterparts.
....Okay, so maybe Holmes doesn't need another trick named after himself....
Alright, I am willing to concede that there would be no sense in calling a Backside Tailgrab anything but. however I firmly stand by my claim that the Backside Stale needs a name all its own, and I've even gone to the trouble of choosing one.
This, oh loyal reader whom I am amazed is still reading this, brings me to the very reason I felt compelled to write this whole post in the first place.
This is Pedro Barros, one of, if not the hottest new vertical rider coming up. He's performing a Backside Stalefish. He does this trick at every contest I've seen him skate, and he makes it look ridiculously stylish. Anyone who has ever tried a stalefish will tell you that it's an awkward trick frontside, and yet here is young Mr. Barros performing the probably triply awkward backside variation consistently, and with the kind of ease that most people wish they had just pushing down the street....
.....Barr Air, anyone? I think the kid's earned it.
It would seem that, as of late, Europe has been popping up in my day-to-day conversations more frequently; my girlfriend is soon to be returning to Canada from a two-week vacation in Rome, the recent Royal Wedding of the former Kate Middleton and the formerly fawned-over William "Who Thought I'd Grow Into My Dad's Goulish Looks" Windsor, a co-worker talking to me about a recent trip to see his daughter in Belgium, and so forth.
Half of me is envious of all the pieces of history mentioned in these day-to-day conversations that I have yet to see for myself. Indeed, my Bachelor of History self goes a little green with the talk of The Flavium Amphitheatre, Trajan's Market, Westminster Abbey, and the formerly Hapsburg-ruled home of delicious, delicious chocolate.....
Now, of course, like any good skateboarder, my thoughts of Europe are also often accompanied with visions of the bevy of amazing things to skate across the pond. Mind you, while most skaters would fantasize about the sets, ledges, and manual pads that seem to litter Barcelona, I find my personal European skate destiation would likely be throughout France.
"Brandon," you, the reader may ask "why France? I heard the people are arrogant and smell like open sewage." Well, suprisingly interactive reader, I will grant you that I have heard accounts from people who have done the London/Paris two week vacation, only to wish they'd spent both weeks in jolly ol' England... However, these people were not concerned with what terrain was available to skate. Therefore, on this note, herewith are some of my must-skate structures if ever i should find myself backpacking throughout the land of wine and cheese
The Lyon Mushrooms
The Marseilles Bowl
Le Cradle de 13e, Paris
The holy grail, the Eiffel Tower Basin Bowl
Notice a pattern?
I prefer transitions, in case it wasn't painfully obvious at this point, and naturally-occurring trannys in the GTA are rare as diamonds. The unfortunate thing is that France is a long way, and a good chunk of change. That being said, I suppose at this point I'll have to save up a little and settle for the next best thing...
Big O, Montreal.
...What is it with the French and curvy architecture, anyway?
This morning, during one of my many daily perusals of the handful of skate news sites I frequent, I noticed a video over at Skate Daily , a short part welcoming Phil Ladjanski to Keystone Skateboards, a small company operated out of Phillidelphia, PA. I figured I'd share it with you, not only because the skating is good, but something I noticed about it brought to mind something I've mulled over to myself many times.
Any guesses?
Anyone?
....Bueller?
For anyone who didn't notice, not a single clip seems to have been shot with a fisheye lens. For that matter, the entire part looks as though it was shot with a point-and-shoot digital camera, as opposed to whatever high-tech HD camera, replete with a price tag higher than my last year's university tuition, is considered the "industry standard" these days.
Panasonic AG-HVX200A (enough of a mouthful, guys?) - $4,295
Panasonic AG-LW7208G Wide Angle Lens - $499
Filming a skate video that looks like every other skate video in the last decade? - Priceless?
Now, I'm not one to completely downplay the usefulness of the fisheye lens - I've been on the subject side of a fisheye in both stills and video on several occasions, and under certain circumstances I think it's very useful, after all, why lese would it have become the standard for skateboarding documentation? What I will say, though, is that the industry has developed an unhealthy dependence on the fisheye. I can remember being fifteen, and picking up an issue of Skateboarder Magazine that featured a list of "The 100 Greatest Things About Skateboarding"
I couldn't find the actual cover anywhere, so here's another one that just so happens to have the number 100 on it.
At any rate, one of the spots on the list was given to filmer Fred Mortagne's use of rolling long-lens footage, notably in the 2000 èS video Menikmati, as exemplified in Eric Koston's ender in the video:
For what it's worth, the number of second, and occasinally third angles seem to act almost as a gentle hint to other skateboard filmers, a way of saying "Hey guys, look! All these tricks can be shot using different angles and lenses!" That's the kind of creative filmwork I can admire.
Having recently finished editing the FnM promo video, all of which was shot on lower-end cameras (mostly point-and shoot), and having filmed a good portion of my own part myself, reliance on creative camera positioning became a must, and I feel like the effort put into it paid off.
Maybe I've gone off on a bit of a tangent, here... I guess the moral of the story is that people just want to watch some good skateboarding, and filming it well shouldn't have to involve taking out a line of credit.
For those unaware, Transworld SKATEboarding released the nominees for its annual TWS awards a couple weeks back. Most of the nominations are what one would expect from a mainstream skateboarding periodical, though one name took me genuinely off guard, and was a pleasant suprise: under the "Best Transition" category was listed the one and only Robert Lance Mountain.
Now, I'm not going to lie, here, when I was a teenager, and I was watching Animal Chin for the first time, I thought Lance was good, but I didn't like his style... Something about his indy airs in the final scene...
I know... in hindsight I had no idea what I was thinking... (For those who don't know, Lance is the one in the blue shirt and pink shorts).
I think what really made me a Lance Mountain fan, and I'm sure a lot of people, many almost twice my age, will concur, was watching that first Powell Peralta piece, The Bones Brigade Video Show (1984). Everyone I can think of who's had the pleasure of watching that video can tell you the importance of Lance's skating, in that, not only was the skating itself remarkable (I will forever envy the man's lien to tails in the Alien Pool) but there's an accessability about it.
Anyone who has about a half an hour to kill should watch this, now...
This brings me to a few reasons why, in my humble opinion, Lance ought to win this year's award.
1) As previously mentioned, accessability. I mean this as no slight to either of the other nominees, Grant Taylor and Taylor Bingaman, but Lance's skating is different to watch. Let me put it this way... Taylor and Bingaman are ridicuously talented, and watching them skate will make you want to go skate, but if you saw either of them at your local park you'd be liable to just want to sit and watch. Upon watching a Lance Mountain video part, you want to go skate as well, and yet one gets the distinct feeling that, should he ever happen by your local park, you'd be just as stoked to join in on the session as he would be to have you.
2) Age... I don't want to throw the age card out there, but Taylor and Bingaman are 19 and 20, respectively. Lance is coming up on his 47th birthday, and managed in the last year to release a video part that was just as impactful as those released by his fellow nominees, whose combined ages are still younger than Lance.
Last video link this post, I promise.
3) It's not every day that a recipient of the TWS Legends Award (2008), an award that basically says "Thanks for the great stuff way back, it's pretty cool you still skate in your free time", gets nominated for one of the awards meant to signify acheivements in the last year, and wouldn't it be cool if Lance managed to take it?
4) Acheivements - Again, not to downplay his fellow nominees, but of the three, I think it's safe to say that Lance was the hardest working nominee in the last year. Aside from filming the aforementioned video part, which was delayed on account of a broken arm, Lance managed to travel with the rest of the Flip team for demos, skate last year's Rumble in Ramona, and take third place in last year's Pro-Tec Pool Party Masters division.
5) Lance Mountain is my girlfriend's favourite skater, and it's always good for me when she's stoked.
