These days, I get asked a lot of questions by my readers. One of the first ones that my detractors always seem to ask me is why I'm such a loudmouthed, coarse, opinionated, and insensitive jerk. These "detractors" are usually industry-types that have pretty established careers in skateboarding... because I don't think that any real skater would ever ask me such a stupid question. It's actually pretty funny, because most skaters that I know are pretty much the same exact way, more or less. And I think it's safe to say that we're all products of skateboarding.
So at the end of the day, I usually end up wisecracking to these guys that if they really wanna blame someone for how I turned out, the first guys they really need to look at are the ones staring back at them in the mirror when they go home at night. I'm just a product of the environment, y'know? I simply took in and absorbed whatever the skateboard industry was creating at the time. And in the late 1980's and early 1990's, that could easily be summed up as "individuality, creativity, and rebellion".
For the "photo" elements of this piece, I decided to take the readers on a little "photo journal through my personal archives". Those archives are largely made up of magazines, because I have [somehow] managed to save each and every skate mag that I've ever encountered. The collection weighs several hundred pounds, and takes up an entire wall in my office. A tangible testament to the fact that, as a kid, I was hugely influenced by whatever the skate media fed me.
I don't think that times have changed all that much, in that regard. The kids still eat up media like there's no fuckin' tomorrow. The biggest difference? What we're feeding 'em these days.
Like a lot of skaters of my generation, I was the product of a failed marriage, and a broken home. My dad bailed out of my life when I was in my early teens. I don't really blame him for anything, and I'm certainly not the sort of guy that carries a crutch or holds a grudge. It is what it is, and that's the end of it. Still, at that age, I kinda needed a "dad" figure in my life. It was around that time that I started skating. So, the guys that were the "elder skaters" in my town at the time sort of filled the gap. In hindsight, those guys were around the same age as I was... but, they started skating a lot earlier than I did. I guess the more "accurate reality" was that we all leaned on each other to get it all figured out, as we were all roughly peers.
One of my first Thrashers... back when they had some "variety" in their coverage. You wouldn't think that "street luge" ("land luge", at the time) would ever end up on the cover of Thrasher... but, it did. Ironically, TransWorld also did an extensive luge article just a month or two later. In those days, putting the spotlight on the "new", "different", and "unknown" was the job of the media. These days, that sort of shit is avoided like the plague.
Skateboarding then, wasn't the way that skateboarding is today. Today, it's all very little league. And generally, it's pretty well accepted by the "greater society" of non-skaters and authorities. At the very least, it's tolerated. Moreso than it ever was back when I first got into it.
As I noted to Kirb this week, the media tended to take a handful of common themes, run crazy with them, and beat you over the head mercilessly with them, until we- the kids- managed to get it all figured out. Note that this Lance Mountain article (a regular feature in TransWorld called "Anyone, Anything") has "Variety" as the screaming, uber-huge, can't-miss headline. Same general theme as the Thrasher cover above, but just spun a different way.
In those days, it was just a known fact that all skaters were freaks. We were truly the dregs of society, the rogue subculture. Being one of the freaks was actually kind of liberating. You could really get away with shit, because you were pretty much expected to be shitty anyway. We were tagged as "bad kids". So, we went out of our way to live up to those expectations. The worse we were, the more fun we found ourselves having. Eventally, just being "bad" wasn't enough for us. After all, if "bad" is really pretty good, then "terrible" must be even better, right...?
Bilbo Jorgenson and his one-of-a-kind, handmade, and ornately decorated skateboard. You might look at this, and say to yourself "What The Fuck?! What a freakshow!" But in hindsight, I see Danny Creadon, Chuck Hults, Tim Burt, or any one of a number of modern-day skaters that take raw wood, glue, stain, varnish, and glossy inks... and turn them into carefully handcrafted, highly individualized, and uniquely beautiful rolling pieces of art. Not quite to this extreme, of course.
On the other hand: Without the extremes, we'd never find the new middle grounds that define us all.
The paradox of it all was that, there were actually standards that we had to live up to. Those were set by the "older dudes". And if you didn't live up to expectations, you were liable to get your ass kicked by one of 'em. Those guys actually did more to instill and reinforce a sense of values and ethics than any school or church ever did. Of course, this was way back when skateboarding actually had values and ethics. Once again, skateboarding isn't quite the same as it once was. It's really kind of a bummer that we've lost that.
So, what sorts of things might get my ass kicked by my elder skatesman? Oh, I don't know. "Snaking the ramp owner at his own ramp" is probably a pretty good place to start. "Snaking the local hero" probably came in a close second, with "Snaking anyone that's better than you" an even closer third. Basically: If I snaked anyone at all, I was screwed.
"I might be awful, but at least I have great influences!" The Bill Danforth Pro Spotlight by Dave Swift. Two of the people that most influenced me as a teenager. Swifty had a great, loose, laid-back, spontaneous, and fun writing style that I'd absolutely kill to have, myself. And, the Bill Danforth pick was sort of an aberration in it's day. After all, Bill was from Michigan (not California). He didn't ride for the "right" companies (Alva, not Santa Cruz or Powell-Peralta). He wasn't a "street" skater, and he wasn't quite a "vert" skater either (but rather, a bit of everything). But, what he did have was a lifetime of travel stories, and the lessons that a nomadic life on the road had taught him. As a truck driver's son, I could relate to this immensely. And to this day, I still drive around this country constantly.
Believe it or not, I actually learned a lot from this experience. Namely, to give respect and courtesy where it's due. This went on for years, until I had a growth spurt and outgrew all of 'em. But even then, I tended to be pretty cool to everyone. Because, that's another vital life lesson that skateboarding sort of teaches ya: To be cool to your fellow skater. We are, after all, a family of freaks. And if you can't lean on your family, then who in the hell can you lean on...?
Another "bad" influence on me as an impressionable teenager: Jeff "The Mothra" Grosso. Jeff was trippy as hell. He spoke his mind. He said outlandish things. He didn't care if you were stoked, pissed, or indifferent. He skated the way he skated, and fuck you if you didn't like it. He was the epitome of sincerity and honesty. I was shaken by the intensity of the guy, and impressed by the balls that he had to do that sort of shit right in the public eye. To this day, I'm a huge Jeff fan. If you had half a brain, you'd be one too.
There were lots of other "life lessons" that were more or less beaten into me, too. Not literally, of course. But definitely, figuratively. Always embrace diversity & individuality (because you needed both to be a great skater). Be creative & contemplative. Use your goddamned head. Stand up, and take some pride in yourself. Take care of what you've got, 'cuz it might not be here tomorrow if you don't. Live every day as if it was gonna be your last. Never be satisfied with the status quo, and never stop pushing forward. Stand up for what's right, even if you have to take one on the chin once in a while. Defend your buddies when they're getting fucked with by a bunch of hicks and jocks. Shit like that.
It's funny... all of these things that I mentioned? They're all pretty important to this "culture of skateboarding" of ours. Yet, not a single damned one of them has anything at all to do with riding a skateboard. In hindsight, it actually sounds a lot like the crap that my parents and teachers always tried to teach me at home, or in school. Only slightly roughed up a bit to suit our own needs, and reflect our distinct personalities. To this day, I still take these things to heart. They're valuable life lessons, regardless of where or why you ever managed to figure them out.
If Swifty's Danforth interview wasn't enough to get my ass in gear, than this one definitely pushed me over the edge. "The Big Picture United States Tour", TransWorld (again). This one's really pretty significant. Because unlike most "tour coverage" [as we know it today], there weren't any pros to cover, no filmers, no itinerary, and no real plan. Just fill up the tank, get in the car, and go. Inspired by the letters he got at the mag from all over the country, he grabbed his "buddies" Owen Nieder and Mike Youssefpour and bolted outta town.
Three months later, I was on a train, headed to Cleveland to go skate the Berea Rollerdome... because it was featured in this article. One of the most pivotal excursions in my entire life, and it was all influenced by a magazine article. Thanks, Dave. I owe ya something for that.
The really amazing thing about all of this, is that it's all still valid today. These little tidbits of freak-culture wisdom that we picked up through skateboarding are actually pretty timeless. Even in 2010, stuff like "embracing diversity and individuality" are pretty hot trends. Unless you're one of those conservative morons that's stuck in the 1950's, and you're out there yelling for the blacks to use their own goddamned water fountains, beating up queers, and blaming the muslims for everything that might be left over. Thankfully, those points of view are pretty unpopular. Society at large has taken a few solid steps forward. Yet as far as skaters go, we seem to have actually lost our way. Nowadays, it's pretty common for skaters to call other skaters "gay", and to vibe the shit out of anybody that's wearing the wrong size pants, or the un-cool shoe flavor of the moment.
"Gutter Vomit: A Street Symposium", TransWorld SKATEboarding, by the legendary Garry Scott Davis (aka, "GSD"). The Solitary Life very much reflects the values that I learned as a kid... like this one, for example. This article brought in a bunch of the up-and-coming street skaters (Ray Barbee, Tom Knox, Matt Hensley, Mike Vallely, Mark Heintzman, Sean Sheffey, etc), and asked them all pertinent questions in a "round-table" sort of setting. They all had very different styles and philosophies, so the article gave you several points of view in one read. Compare that to any media- skate, or otherwise- that exists today.
It all makes me wonder, why in the hell isn't anyone talking about this shit...? This industry, and our media, always did a great job in the past of setting and promoting the agenda. I mean, it's not like we figured all this shit out exclusively on our own. We absolutely had influences and voices showing us the way. Some of mine were guys like Dave Swift, Britt Parrott, Miki Vuckovich, Garry Davis, Mike Laird, Claus Grabke, Bill Danforth, Chris Miller, Mark Gonzales, Matt Hensley, Jason Jessee, Lance Mountain, and Neil Blender. It makes me wonder, where are those voices today...? Reading that list, I'm realizing that a lot of them are still around, and active in skateboarding. Maybe the problem isn't that they're not talking. Maybe the problem is that we've simply stopped listening.
I mentioned in the Mike Vallely interview that Mike was not only a groundbreaking street skater... he also had some sick-ass vert skills, as well. How do I know this? Because in their heydays, the skate mags made a point of yanking skaters out of their "pigeonholes", and illustrating various aspects of their personalities. Also evident in this interview: Mike could ride pools, and also wrote poetry as a "secondary" creative outlet. Well, if it's okay for Mike to write poetry... why in the hell can't I be a journalist...? Answer: There's no reason at all! So: I did.
When was the last time that a skate magazine inspired you to pick up a pen, and put your thoughts onto paper? Fuck, man, here's an even better one: When's the last time a skate magazine inspired you to think at all...?!
But, I think there's another evolution at work here. A large part of it has to do with the nature of the media, and their motivations. In those days, skateboarding was a lot smaller, and tighter-knit. It was a bit more of a community, and you really had to bust your ass to get accepted into the inner circles of things. And although there were some pretty hefty big-business interests going on... Powell-Peralta, Santa Cruz, and Vision were, after all, gigantic companies back in their heydays... the "quest for profits" wasn't the sole, singular motivation for doing things. Idealism and passion still existed, and there was a lot of latitude available for discussion and debate. Because, there were rivalries, opinions, and arguments. Nowadays, these things aren't quite so tolerated. Mostly out of fear of losing precious market share, or of offending the wrong parent-company's shareholders. The stakes are too huge now. So naturally, nobody wants to do anything that might be considered "controversial" or "risky".
"Art Direction: Saying more than words ever could, by creatively using the images, words, and art in new and creative ways to give added depth and meaning to the storyline". I'm not 100% sure that Garry Davis directed this piece... but the feel, vibe, and evidence point to a likelihood of that being the case. Garry is a genius beyond genius, and his visions were dramatically impressive to me as a kid. This Ron Cameron spread (at the old Blockhead mini-ramp complex) says waaaaayyy more than "Here's a guy doing a frontside over a hip".
The board... the guy... the way that only one wheel is colorized... the surrounding full-color photos (for contrast)... the manner in which the text actually twists, turns, and flows around the page (which actually forced you to physically keep turning the magazine around... and in turn, to constantly change your own perspective, relative to the photo)... it opened up entirely new ways of looking at the world around me. That too, stands to this very day.
What this is leading to, is the increasing irrelevancy of our medias, and our manufacturers. When I was growing up, the magazines were bibles. Pro skaters were high priests. And, the Big Five were something approaching mythical. Now, they've all been reduced to just being a bunch of cash cows. They largely exist to enrich their various owners, and to do very little else. Nothing meaningful really comes out of our modern-day skateboard industry. Let alone, inspiring.
File these two under "News You Can Actually Use": Paul Schmitt's "Technically Speaking" in TWS (top), and Jake Phelps' "Product Patrol" in Thrasher (bottom). Again, the influences on The Solitary Life are more than evident. We're even going to do a column titled "Technically Speaking" as a nod to our great Professor Schmitt, with a "bearings" piece being the first one out of the saddle. The great difference between mags and the 'Net, is that information is forever archived on the 'Net for anyone and everyone to access freely. But in order to read Paul's old articles, you've got to be lucky enough to either own the mag, or know someone that'll let you manhandle their prized (and, highly collectible) possessions.
Good luck with that one...!
Besides being asked why I'm such a damned jerk, I'm also asked a lot these days how I'd like to be remembered. Or, how I'd like The Solitary Life to be remembered. Which kind of weirds me out, because it sounds like everybody thinks I'm dying or something. I actually saw Spitfire Rob last week at Major Taylor, and even he said "Oh my gawd! I thought you were dead!" Seriously?! Holy shit. Maybe I need to get my ass into the gym, and stay there until I kick the smoking habit, huh...?
In any rate, to answer the question... my first gut reaction is to say, "I doubt that I'll be remembered at all". Most of us die anonymous deaths, regardless of what we've accomplished or who we've touched in life. Which is perfectly fine by me. But, if I absolutely had to be remembered for something...? I'd like to be remembered as one of the few guys that stayed true to the whole gig, while everybody else was busy selling the whole thing out. I figure I owe it at least that much. If I manage to pull it off, I'll be perfectly happy with that.
I've never really asked for much out of skateboarding. Just a smile, a laugh, a few friends, and a good time. That's all. But at the end of the day, it ended up giving me so much more than I could have ever thought up. I'll eternally be thankful for that, and I'll never take it for granted.
