Crucial!

And one of his awesome twin boys! But I still can never tell who is who, Lincoln or Radley, so let's call him Hero. Of note: that Rob Fulstone, aka Dj Crucial, skates on old Gonz decks he buys, often after rebuilding their tails and sanding their edges and loading them down with vintage beautiful overstock, like, OJ IIIs or Slimeballs or something. White Trackers with pink risers.

And apparently Herbert finally after four months in the driveway learned switch-crooks, big fucking deal.

Nose Manny

Everyting Can Kickfleep

I suppose we owed them this much. After all that Z-Boys stuff, the crouching and leaning and getting radical while waiting for the next morning's break. Fair is fair.

But this, below, let's reflect a second. Who exactly is in charge over there at BMX or whatever's headquarters? Who to contact re: some nature of royalty or hush-money? Who to apologize for all the dented copings and awkward backward ride-outs?

And so we suppose that's that. Someone get on the horn to Union Pacific. Time to kickflip a train, son.

Overdue AZ Post

A sweet crew of dudes invited me to meet up in Arizona a little bit ago and good times were had by all. Nate killed it everywhere we went and skated for hours with the enthusiasm and radical energy of a 15 year old. Tim did some stylish laybacks and slappy'd everything he could find. Charlie is one of my favorite dudes and he apparently does a mean Jim Jarmusch impression when he's trying to bribe you into doing fantastic feats of flatground trickery. We skated a parking garage in a sunshower. The Nicks kept the good vibes flowing all week and I got to meet Todd from Detroit. Sick! I also got to make this crappy movie, enjoy.

Lurkish Delight

ParkingBlock Tim gets the necessary still to complement the motion capture. Nollie flip to chink chink at Del Mar, click the tiny silly photo below to enlarge (waaaaaay worth your click):

Say They Shit Aint Dope

Looking white shirt. Looking hair good. Looking ryan. Wisconsin. Haggard as fuck.

"Always Carry an Umbrella, Kid"

I've been rocking The Millennium's "To Claudia on a Thursday" fairly nonstop recently, but I had no idea the album version was so hugely superior, thanks to the Prelude, available here for looking and listening...

And should anyone forget that Chris Bower is a genius, please have even the gentlest of ganders at his "Wit: My Text From Write Club," the entirety of which is goddamned amazing, as the line following will attest:

My grandfather used to hide from God in bars. When people used to ask him why he thought God couldn't find him in bars, he would say, "I don't believe in God, I am not an idiot."

Come baby come baby baby come come.

Dear folks, this is going to be a great event from some of the creative minds that design the shit we like. Or, most of us like. Mark your calendars next Friday. Dam.

p.s. it's free.

Found Internet Essay on Logan Square Park

"i was a person that skated at the eagle before this park was built i whould have loved if they built it sooner. man that was a loong time ago we had to goto 31st to goto a skate park to skate hahaha then they built wilson witch was closer i skated it before it was even open and they where still makeing the bowls."

Unintentional

Did you guys see MikeMo's impression of Koston?

Well Well Well

Here's an old photo of Randy that I shot a few years ago at Wilson. I can't remember who's or what camera I was using but I do remember the back tail was two tries and this was the make.

Tumblr Redemption

The High 5 blogs their best shit.

australia skateparktage from preston harper on Vimeo.

Skate Hop Time Capsule

While catching up on my WATC reading I came across a familiar backside heelflip. The edit is indeed a couple years old and some of the footage has to be nearing its tenth birthday but I enjoyed it as much as anything coming out today (well, almost anything). Bare witness to the DJ prowess of Crucial, the lyrical street-stylings of J. Toth, and the "bangin'!" back-heels of Dude Life Staff Blogger, Kyle Beachy.

Point Lost

By way of illustration look at the way P-Rod, which is a nickname, obsessively reaches for the thighs of his jeans before each trick, pinching fabric and lifting away the bag from a place where, we can only presume, it would restrict movement. It’s a gesture you see now at skateparks across the country — the P-Rod pick, or how about just the pick. Others of course wear skinny jeans, though fewer now than early this decade.

Corey Duffel’s gone and grown himself a beard, and he’s not wearing the bracelet. The costumes settle toward a peaceful equilibrium, and this is another reason men understand skateboarding better than young people. You can look at kids and know immediately that they’re gonna quit. Lookit these little fuckers, we think. Hurry up. Get out of the way. Remove your headphones.

The point I wanted to make was about fashion’s nervous relationship to function.

Dorian!

Genius prose poem received from Dorian last night:

I've worked, I've slept, I've eaten the best food, I've been broke, I've had good luck, I've been miserable, I've been happy, I've skated, I've bled, I'm exhausted, I'm coming home.

Go on and try to convince me this ain't the most succinct account of a life you've ever read. Happy to hear of you're upcoming return, Mr. Byrd. Nice.