Skatepark De-volution

It's been over a year since Inner Space indoor skatepark closed its doors. It seems like an unfortunate trend in skateboarding that privately owned indoor parks don't stick around too long. The Skate Barn in Renton shut down a few months before Inner Space and while BISP has been holding it down strong for Seattle indoor skateboarding and The Garage has recently opened in Everet, it sure was nice to have an indoor park within the city limits.
I read/heard a statistic one time about ski resorts--that they start losing money the day the open. It was described that running a ski resort is essentially a hobby for rich dudes, until they get bored and pass the burden onto someone else. I guess running a skatepark is much the same, except skatepark owners aren't usually rich capitalists, but dirtbag skateboarders.
What's been particularly distressing about the closure of Inner Space is the fact that the facility was bought by Evo, a well-to-do snow bro shop with a thinly veiled interest in skateboarding. They sell skate shoes. They sell skate fashions which have been misappropriated by hipsters and popular culture as a whole and they sell longboards, cruisers, and some core skate products too. They talk the talk, but don't necessarily walk the walk (or roll the roll as it were).
I fling these allegations because it was widely known that when Evo purchased the dusty core skatepark as part of their glossy, sexy, fashion-orientated storefront, they made idle promises of preserving and incorporating elements of the skatepark into their business model. It would make sense for them to do so, and I wouldn't be writing this post about their failure to do it, because I support all skateparks whether their shop caters to the frat boy skier/longboard set or not. I skate at Rye Airfield, which is a great park, but also a bit of a razor scooter shop.
No one asks that Evo change their business model or marketing scheme. No one expects them to be some core shop selling only skate hard goods and the rawest skate shit. But they should have made good on giving Seattle skateboarders a place to ride in the rain when they bought, chewed up and spit out the only one we had.
A source close to both Evo and myself admits, "Evo bit off more than they could chew. Skateboarding has historically been the weakest link as far as what they sell. They thought the skatepark would be a way to strengthen that, but it turned out to be not as easy as they thought. Evo is definitely not moving on building a skatepark, for sure."
A visit to Evo and a conversation with an employee verified this. "We were just told (by the company) that we have no definite timeline on it", the young bro nervously informed me.
So it becomes a chicken and the egg scenario. If Evo had built or maintained the park as they were expected to have done when they bought the space, maybe more skateboarders would say, "Oh Evo is actually down for skateboarding, it's not just some yuppie store." But the fact that they have not gone through with the park kind of proves that Evo prioritizes skateboarding as part of an image--an extreme sport whose presence in their store is necessary to help them feel validated and sell more skis and patagonia vests at astronomical prices.
"I thought Inner Space was fantastic. I was pretty ticked when it closed and Evo opened with no park," a local skater told me.
What's even more disheartening is that the Inner Space indoor skatepark sign is still attached to the Evo building, leading consumers to a parking lot, not a skatepark.

Thanks, Homie

#26 Of 50

Just received my copy of Homies by Adam Amengual in the mail. There has been a good bit of buzz about this project on the Internet already, but I thought I'd chirp in a cent or two, particularly because Adam is one of my oldest friends and this here blog was started as a light-hearted tribute to Adam's Blog, the Wandering Wayfarer.
Homies is a collection of portrait photography shot by Adam at Homeboy Industries, an LA-based non-profit that works with former gang members and prisoners in giving them hope for the future and doing something positive with their lives once they leave the past behind. This is certainly an extreme case scenario, as most of us reading and writing blogs aren't directly involved with the pitfalls of gang culture, but I think that the model of Homeboy Industries is applicable to anyone's life: You fucked up in the past, do something positive and move on.
On a photography level, the images are beautifully shot and lighted (I don't know too much about photography but Adam's been doing his thing for a long time and they look very good to me). Some of the more interesting things I found about this book published by Straylight Press were the quotes that Adam was able to extract via interviews with his subjects as well as his insights from an interview with him which concludes the publication, particularly the idea that gang culture has been glorified by the popularity of gangsta rap, popular movies, video games, etc (even toys!). It's real easy to look at these portraits from afar and feel removed and fascinated, like watching National Geographic or visiting a zoo, but Adam's pictures and subsequent interviews help to remind us that we are all human beings born into various scenarios and that our differences are indeed arbitrary.
I don't know how many of these are left but I'm thankful to have a copy, support my friend, and hopefully be able to gain more insight about human beings in America next time I come across a "scary" type of person on the bus or street or whatever. There's a reason why utterances become cliche, mostly because they are at their core, universal truths. And with that, I would like to say "One Love". Thanks, Homie.

Daddy Issues Resolved

Last night I had a dream. It wasn't very dreamlike or abstract. It was pretty easy to remember. You came into my work. You were sitting at table 56. You were with some lady. You probably met her at AA. Half full grapefruit juices and diet Cokes all over the table. I was bartending. The people at the table next to yours were bent out of shape because their burger didn't turn out the way they wanted. I got them a new one, dropped it off then sat down at your table and tried to make small talk with you and your weather-worn-yet-attractive-west-coast-AA-bitch. You couldn't look me in the eye and I called you out for it. I made a scene in my own restaurant. You said you loved me. You said you were 40. You were full of shit. Droopy sad brown eyes. I wasn't expecting that. Thought you'd have eyes like mine. I told you I was 33. "Take it easy, Peter," I said as I walked away. "Robert Hanks is my father." Now I had really made a scene. I walked away from your table. I didn't need a moment to compose myself. I headed back behind the bar and made some drinks for the recooked burger table. It felt good.

Got A Grip Of Great Friends

I have the greatest friends in the world. I know we ALL feel like that and to a degree we're ALL right, but let me tell you some tidbits about why a few of mine are really tight...
I was working one night, the bar was closed, doors were locked, when Chandler Blum and his girlfriend Casey knocked on the front door. I thought they were some overzealous drunks looking for another drop (at least ones I didn't know) and I was about to shoo them away. Boy did I feel like a dick when I unlocked the door, realized it was them and they handed me a skateboard.
"It's for you" they said.
They had won it in a raffle at a Victor Ruggiero show. They are not skateboarders themselves so they wanted to give the board to me! What amazing friends! And the deck is 8.25 which is what I ride so I was pretty happy. It is a tribute deck to fallen soldier/skateboarder/artist/bartender Stevfin Caswell from 35th and North skateshop in Capitol Hill. I didn't know Stevifin, but so much of life on earth is about fraternity and as a bartender and lifelong skater, I feel he was one of my own and I will be proud to represent for him on this board from my friends Chandler and Casey.
It was really good timing too because I needed a new skateboard. I like to have two of them going at the same time. Hard wheel setup for epic northwest crete and soft wheel setup for wooden ramps and such during epic northwest rainstorms. It might sound prima donna or old-man-gear-nerd-poserish but I'm thirty two, have been skating for over twenty years and don't mind spending my hard earned cash on fuckin' product! Plus, I still sate, not just buy the shit and leave it on display in my house. Anyway, it was time for a new ride #2 and the universe aligned to hook up a new one.

Radular griptape job by Court Hoffman

Enter Court Hoffman, good friend, artist and skaterat who has wanted to do a custom griptape job for me for a while. I turned the deck over to him and he did an exquisitely intricate piece of artwork on my new skateboard. I am so impressed by the level of skill and attention to detail. I could never do anything like this. I can barely put a blank sheet of griptape on.
Speaking of griptape, I got the colored grip from Mike Lynch at Gravity Sports in Renton, "the oldest skate and surf shop in the Northwest". Went in for the tape and came out with a new friend in Mike after shooting the shit about skating and life for an hour or so.
So there you have it friends, my friends rule. Life's a trip. Skateboarding and new skateboards are awesome.

Skate And Construct

Talked about it for a long time and with the help of some friends finally got my fun box built. Truth be told I actually didn't do much. I bought the dudes some beer, provided the tunes and a good attitude and bought the lumber and all, plus I guess it was my idea to have a fun box to skate if and when I'm on house arrest. Court was the foreman, Joey (Ballard ripper--don't know the dude's last name) was the master carpenter, and Mark (from Maine, bub) was another helper/enthusiast. Thanks dudes, session's on, always. Here's some documentation...

 

Man Living In Anarchistic State Toward Internal Excellence

May 3, 2012

I wanna say a little somethin' that's long overdue... I've basically been meaning to write this post for a year. I was driving across country when I got the horrible news of Adam Yauch's death. The night before I was in Chicago and my friend Andrew Comeau was showing me the vinyl copy of Check Your Head he had just acquired. We smoked a bone and listened to both sides before we headed out to get some dinner. I didn't know it at the time but that was the last time I would listen to my favorite band while they were still an active entity. The next day Comeau gave me a text while I was somewhere in Indiana with the bad news. The tears came on quickly and did not stop.
Since I was very young I have always had a strong connection to the music, style and culture of the Beastie Boys. I first heard "fight for your right" when I was about six years old and I have been hooked ever since. In middle school my friends Jeff Strykowski and Nate Bayko(R.I.P.) and I used to walk around our town and recite Beasties lyrics. We were dope. Nate rapped Mike D's parts, I was Adrock and Jeff kicked MCA's rhymes. I remember being so hyped that there were people out there that loved the Beastie Boys as much as I did. I realize now that virtually everyone feels this way (especially now after Yauch has passed there are many who would claim the B-Boys as the Beatles of our pop-culture saturated generation) but my connection to the Beasties was and always has been a guiding light in my life. I once punched a Marine in the face because he said they were no good. I wrote a song about it. I'm not proud and I'm sure MCA would view that action as heinous, but I am proud of my unwavering pride as a loyal fan. But I am more than a Beastie Boys fan. I was and always will be B.E.A.S.T.I.E. The Beastie Boys showed me at a very young age that the coolest thing you can ever be is yourself. Their embracing of all the eclectic musical and cultural surroundings of their environment in New York City, the World and beyond was and is a source of constant inspiration. While I sought to be a part of the Seattle punk scene it was the Beastie Boys that made me unabashedly endorse my hip hop roots. The Beasties and their music kill tunnel vision dead and I want to thank them for that. R.I.P. Yauch, your music, grace, class, style, finesse and debonair have kept me going. I'm dead fucking last, as well as down for life. It's called gratitude, and that's right.

Disc Review

I recently went frolfing for the first time. Frolf is the combination of frisbee and golf. I like when the name of an activity is the cultivation of the other activities it is comprised of. Makes me fell all warm and tingly inside. Anyway frolf is a very popular activity which may be why I turned my nose up at it for so long (I'm so counter culture, bro). But with my new found inner peace and tolerance, which I attribute mostly to reading The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dali Lama, I was totally open to giving it a try when my friend C-Lo, a frolfer from way back, invited me to come out with him.

I admit I was skeptical at first. Sure, I've heard time and time again from numerous friends and frolf enthusiasts that frisbee golf is mostly about hanging out with your buds (and beers), but I was a little befuddled when I arrived at the White Center course, or Chainbangers as the little clubhouse thing they have there is known. That's right. There is a clubhouse/pro shop where they sell all kinds of discs of various weights, shapes and sizes for various frolfing scenarios. Attached to the pro shop is a snack bar. I got an espresso and a snickers while Chris purchased some new discs. Duh. I'm a hella snacky dude. Then it was time for me to dive into the frolf scene. There was a real deal tournament going on that day so we made our way quickly to the first hole to avoid holding up the large party that was competing in the tournament. C-Lo knew I would suck at first. He was right. But don't hate, I guess everyone does. I know this because after three or four holes we ended up playing with three dudes and their dog, and they were all like, "yeah, I sucked at first dude. Don't worry you're gonna eventually rule". I don't know if I ever ended up ruling but I certainly got over my initial befuddlement.

My posse's on fairway

Like the time I went golfing with Court, I just couldn't figure out how everyone was so psyched on something that wasn't skateboarding. I know, I know, tunnel vision. Whatever. But also like the time I went golfing, I quickly became obsessed with putting my projectile in the nearby hole (always a good time). And just like it is truly satisfying to smash a golf ball, it is equally satisfying to hear the sound of a chain bang. Not that I truly know first hand.
The only weird thing that really happened was when I did eventually hold up some of the tournament dudes with my first time frolfer suckiness and one of the dudes got kinda aggro, complaining that they had been waiting for me for two holes. The old me would've probably snapped on this guy, but I was cool a s a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce, to quote the late Adam Yauch. I tapped into my compassion fund and moved along, enjoying the game for what it is with my new friends as well as my old one, Chirs. Frolf is supposed to be relaxing--it is the combination of two leisure activities for god's sake! But this one guy had a stick (golf stick?) up his ass and wanted to have his day ruined, so I obliged him, frustrating him even more by simply picking up my disc and opting to cruise to the next hole. What a chump. Word on the street is that the dude is a notoriously bad sport around the Seattle frolfing scene, always throwing temper tantrums and the like. What a herb. Anyway by the end of the gorgeous afternoon I had a better understanding of what C-Lo and others' obsession with disc golf is all about, and I am so down to go again.

So yeah, frisbee golf is actually pretty awesome to me, if you wanted to know. That is all. Carry on, or should I say, play through?