style:natas

there was a skate shop when I was a teen that refused to carry that Natas Kaupas boards because they thought the name was Satan spelled backwards -which it is. the dude is also Lithuanian and the shop owners culturally inept zealots.

four dubyahs

who: an 18 year old kid outta high school with a little grit, no sense, a library job for gas money and a white Karmann Ghia

what: a passion for moving across space atop magic carpets - concrete or water didn't matter

when:same as now -as much as can be fit in between things that otherwise matter less to him

how: with graceless abandon, sometimes timidity, in the heat of summer, with duct tape, no leash, behind the beach house after the hurricanes with no one out north of the pier, with cigarette dangling sometimes, with disregard for self harm -mostly always -no always passionately.

style: mad man spencer

found this over at happy feet

quiver check: skates

45" log, 28" convert concave banana cruiser, 8" blank and clay wheeled roller derby circa early 60's.


"what?"

skate style -spanky

this kid is smooth. he mixes a lot of old flowing skate style with modern craziness. sort like of like how James Brown says "I don't know karate but I know Ka-razy!"

style

natural style. Flex.

DH committed



Danforth


Favourite blogs at the moment:

Hydrodynamica
Wooster Collective
The Frontside Rock & Roll Review
Pushingtide
The Fresh Aspect

style - duane peters

nothing to say except I need to try harder

gonz, style, and Mr. Hynd

feelin posty.

I've watched Derek Hynd's sequence in Litmus a million times. his style is mesmerizing and he seems to not take himself (his surfing) too seriously. today I found this clip of style master Mark Gonzales, aka the Gonz. it may seem weird at first but after a few more screenings you start to notice his style, how he makes little nuanced changes to his posture or stance to achieve a turn.

I'm always amused by how people carry themselves through life. some are clumsy and seem as if their lives and their flesh is a burden on their every move. others rejoice at having muscles and balance and flexibility and they move through space with grace and confidence.

there's so many ways to live.

Roller Derby wha?

Big ups to me brejren E. from N.C. for sending me one of the irest gifts I ever receive inna me lifetime. Peep the photos of this criss OG Roller Derby with ceramic wheels. Gonna bomb the hill inna me yard barefoot when the icy rain seckles down lickle more seen.

Oh and if your savvy and you want a green roof for your commercial or residential digs then you should check out Living Roofs. Deh man deh bad like razor wyar. See me a seh bredah!






Tonights vibes:peta touch "steppin razza"

animal chin bans this good music

If you’re reading this blog, and don’t know me personally, I can guess that you’re from my generation. Ray Barbee and Tommy Guerrero were my heroes in a way when I was struggling through high school. My first ever new skateboard way a Ray Barbee model.




The first skate video I remember was The Search for Animal Chin featuring Tommy Guerrero.



Both of these guys have become excellent musicians. I encourage any of you who don’t already know them to check ‘em out. If Kerouac was around today he would listen to these cats while drinking port and smoking spliffs.


Surf Report: 4.9’ @ 6 secs. -onshore winds up to 23 knots… hoping the wind will shift on Sunday and can paddle out on Chuck’s longboard.

I love surfing!


Update

The bouy reads 11.8' at 10 secs. The wind switched to WSW, might be good at a certain sheltered right point. Gotta go get in the water.

soul metamorphosis

formative obsessions

In 1987 my family moved from Isnotu, Venezuela to Bartow, Florida -two shitty small towns really, with nothing much for me to do. My brother on the other hand, the great hunter that he is, got along well with small town boys, partly because of his slingshot prowess and partly because he was and still is a badass. We rode bikes a lot. We made launch ramps and tried to see who could clear the most bikes, laid down in rows on the backside of the ramp.

Around, 1988 I got my first skateboard. It had to be hidden at my friend Jonathan’s house. My Mom was in school I think, or didn’t quite have a decent job I can’t remember, but we kids only had the public school insurance, which prohibited skateboarding and motorbikes. It was a tough time, here I was, itching to do a real American thing and I wasn’t allowed. I did it anyway.

Jonathan’s parents let him build a quarter pipe at the end of the driveway. They had a little Bobcat so we also made a dirt jump for our BMX’s. I spent hours honing my skills at Jonathan’s. As I got older I started skating with some of the better guys in town like Mike and Charlie.

After a few years I skated without the restriction from my folks. My Dad didn’t get it, and I can’t really say that my Mom got it either. But I lived and breathed skateboards every day. I spent hours and hours perfecting my slappy grind down at the bank by my house. I could do them better than all the other guys who were perfecting their own signature tricks. I liked slappy’s ‘cause I thought they had style. I would charge the yellow painted curb with as much speed as I could, right before reaching the curb I would carve hard and slap the trucks onto the curb and grind an easy ten feet before coming off with speed leftover. I could do them frontside or backside. Frontside grinds were harder but the backside layback slappy looked the best.

Jonathan and I stopped skating together. He was a shy kid and didn’t really dig the antics of the rest of the crew. I imagine that his family probably didn’t approve of Mike and Charlie either. Both came from broken homes and basically did whatever the hell they pleased.

Those were my formative years. In those years I learned to smoke cigarettes. I learned too that I didn’t have the stomach to steal them the way my friends could. “Bam!” When I heard that I knew Benji or Ham had a pack of Camels in their pocket. We pushed each other to try bigger and scarier tricks. We built launch ramps to clear over bushes and sidewalks, we pushed them up to handrails, and walls -it didn’t matter.

Things changed, we matured, and Charlie went away. One day Dana pulled up in his Monte Carlo. He was vexed at Benji for some reason I can’t remember. Three us were sitting on the sidewalk watching Ham try kickflips. It was hot as hell, all of us soaked in sweat. Dana walked around to the trunk and popped it open. He pulled out a sawed off 12 gauge and waved it around in our faces before settling the barrel in front of Benji’s nose.

No one talked; it seemed to go on forever. Dana was pleased with himself. He put the shotgun back in the trunk and drove away. We called the cops. He got two years house arrest.

Soon after we went our separate ways. Some started doing hard drugs, others moved away. I went to school.

My brother is still a badass.

skate

t-bone off the lip with style



ras 50-50

We all need something.