Wednesday, September 29, 2010
John Leland & his lecture on "the history of hip" completely miss the relevance of the So. Cal cultural impact.
So. Cal is vast, angry, multicultural, musical, artistically rich & car/bike-centric.
San Francisco is an east coast city on the west coast & Oakland is a midwest city in Cali.
LA & the surrounding area is a unique beast.
In 1927 Louis Goebal opened Jungleland in Thousand Oaks, California, right on the LA/Ventura Co. line.
The pictures in the previous post are of me & my cousins at Jungleland in January of 1969, when I was 2 1/2 years old. It closed in October of that same year.
I delivered the "News Chronicle" to Mr. Goebels front porch & used his overgrown "Hollywood Zoo" as my own personal playground. It was history to me, the fact that Tarzan & Robinhood were filmed there or Jane Mansfield's kid got his arm chewed by a lion, meant nothing me.
It was ours, our turf, hang out, a free skate park.
The Z-Boyz tagged the bowls we skated, perfectly smooth vast undulating tracks of cement, where alligators, sea lions & ducks once ruled.
While surfing may have had a Zen effect on those living in Hawaii or No. Cal, it was mean & territorial in So Cal.
Car Culture & Vatos, Surfing & Skating, Punk Rock & Hollywood, all left a scar on my personality, that makes me relate immediately with a Jason or a Cole.
Is it real or unique, better or special, more clever or neat than any other growing up experience? I think not, but it is mine & when watered down & commercialized by those reminiscing about a past that is not their own for the sake of selling a clothing line, it is surreal & brings out that angry, territorial tendency ingrained in me, since my youth.
At home recovering.
Will I do it again, I tell you now, "never", in a month, "perhaps", by next year... I'll sign up.
I participated in an event that was a character builder at the very least.
The milage was boring in comparison to the crucible of personalities brewing in the late night hours.
During the day magnetos & hopes were fried.
The night, tantrums & wrenches thrown.
Riders with perfect scores lied & cheated as people with only a few hundred miles clocked proved to be inspiring to all.
Some where flown home under doctor's orders & others let their own poor sportsmanship pay for their flight.
The very same act was performed with perfect nuance by some & total hypocrisy by others.
I'm sure I drove people to near murder with my personality, but I also gained life long friends & fiends.
Among the newly beloved, and only at the very moment I publish this post will I remember the names I neglect, are;
Moe, Steve, Sean, Goose, Eric, Dale, "Bill's daughters", The Jersey Devil, Doug, Dave, Joe, The Motormaids &...
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
We also arrived just seconds after Matt Olsen went down, & took him to hospital, he is a champ & with lots of cuts, a broken nose & arm is my hero.
Goose has been taking tons of pictures, checkout his site at nogooders.com
Not quite last place but close.
This allows a freedom to share events as they are.
The riding is a constant monitoring of advance & retard, oil drip & worry that I may destroy a original paint machine worth more than I am.
Blew my knee out on day two, but pulled off a 280 & 300 mile day back to back... brutal.
As I limp with my shot knee, I idolize the Jersey Devil with one leg who has twisted two rods & made a third from a tractor store, an over night complete motor rebuild.
I have seen heroes in one night work magic that professions charge us thousands & take months to do...
Friday, September 3, 2010
This is my son Cary & this post is wrong on many levels.
Material for creeps.
But really, what a beautiful boy!
I never looked this good & it is a good thing, as I would be just like one of those over tanned old greasy Euro beach bums who live in a speedo.