Veteran's Day Posting

So I was reading Sons of Slum and Gravy about the Class of 1962 at West Point, and it occurred to me that a lot of my dad's classmates didn't make it back from Vietnam. My dad was pretty seriously injured there, but he fully recovered. It kinda made me think about what would have happened if he hadn't come back. Probably, we would have been raised in Monterey (CA) where my mom grew up. I don't think I would have experienced one thing in the life that I can remember back to. Kind of mind-blowing.

I hope everyone has a good Veteran's Day and takes time out to remember what it's all about. More on Veteran's Day here.

Mad Props

My brother passed on to me recently that our dad has a chapter written about him in a book offered on Amazon.com, Sons of Slum and Gravy, that puts a quite a light on him. I ordered the book, but I haven't gotten it to read it yet. I'm sure it'll be quite interesting.

I'm old enough to have had a hand in raising two grown stepsons, and many of us have either done the same or are doing so now. It ain't easy. A million decisions to make on the fly, some good ones, some not so good. So I was thinking maybe it was time here to recognize our 'rents for putting up with our sorry asses and the craziness and mayhem and still raising us to be pretty solid citizens.

My favorite story I have about my dad is a sports related one that pre-dates our West Point slacker skateboard days. I was in the 7th grade and my brother was in the 6th grade, and we played in a church basketball league with my dad coaching the team. We were pretty good, but far from the best.

One game, we played the Jewish Community Center team that was roughly about as good as us. The first half was a comedy of errors for us and JCC whipped our asses pretty good. On the tip for the second half, JCC stole the ball and scored a lay up. Only we hadn't switch sides, so they actually scored for us! Whoo-hoo! How awesome is that - 2 of the easiest points our team ever scored! My dad, however, didn't see it that way. He demanded that the points be taken off and the second half be restarted! We couldn't believe it! The whole team was pouting and whining, as 11 and 12 year olds are wont to do. I think he even threatened to forfeit the game if the ref didn't do it!

After pissing and moaning, we played an uneventful 3rd quarter. Down by 10 in the 4th with only a few minutes left, something magical happened - we became the Harlem Freakin' Globetrotters! We scored, stole the ball on the inbounds or JCC's attempt to get it upcourt, and then scored again, basket after basket! With about a minute left, we tied the game, and we ended up winning by 10. I swear to you, if we had played another minute, we would have won by 30! Was it because of what my dad did at the beginning of the second half? I couldn't say for sure. He never yelled at us for messing up on the court or for losing, though, like a lot of parents did/do.

Contrast that with my worst experience in sports: playing little league the year before. Our coach was this fucking asshole Mr. Barlow who only cared about winning. He had favorites, and players that didn't start saw minimal playing time. Neither my brother nor I played organized baseball as a kid after that year. Oh, and we were 20-0! Worst. Sports. Experience. Ever.

I coached modified basketball at the fancy-pants girls school I worked at, and I can say the relaxed sports environment my dad provided for us continued with me there. I won't bore you with story after story, but I have to relate one to you. For a few games a year, I would choose a player, a different one each time, to be the "Coach-For-A-Quarter". The player I chose would name the starting line-up, pick the defenses, and make decisions on substitutions for the first quarter. It was sheer genius. Not a single player started herself in the dozen or so games in which I did this. I came up with this idea entirely on my own, but how can I say my experience of my dad's coaching and support, that winning or losing didn't make or break you, had nothing to do with the way I turned out? I can't. Thanks dad.

More Signs We Are Awesome!

The West Point Skateboard Gang Blog has a follower!

It's not even anyone we know (I think), and it's not even someone from our generation - how awesome is that?

The Orignal Blooperman is a fellow skater. His blog is Blooperman's Rawsome Blog. Almost all of us WPSG'ers are too old, too out of shape, or too brittle to skate, except for the Rogers Brothers of course...

... but we can all still remember those days of shedding our old halfpipe and ramps and bombing down River Road lying on the front of our boards. I, for one, remember many a race and wish I could be out there with the Dave and John today. Of course, you can't reach over and push back the guy trying to pass you like we did back then! Still... Good to have you aboard Blooperman! I hope you are as radical and break as many rules as we did when we were your age!

Google Legit
Try this next time you're on Google. When you type in "W-E-S"...you know when it starts to recommend terms for you?...."T-_-P-O-I-N-"...what for it..."T-_-S-K-A"...BAM! There it is! "West Point Skateboard Gang"! How awesome is that?

Kessler...

Andy Kessler was from what I call the 2nd Generation of skaters, but certainly had the spirit of the early 1st gen Dogtowners. He died recently and this article was sent to me by a friend. Jackson may be more familiar with his impact on NYC skating, but I liked the piece for the way the author encapsulates the soul of a true skateboarder.

"For most of Kessler’s life, years of which were mired in violence and addiction and the existential angst that torments many a non-conformist, skateboarding wasn’t merely a sport or pastime or even the artistic expression of his soul. It was the path to his soul’s salvation."

That's good stuff. RIP Andy Kessler. I didn't know ya, but then again maybe I did.

Catching Up With An Old Friend

A couple weekends ago, McLovin', aka Gorko, showed up at my place, with kids and girlfriend in tow.  He was on his way from Connecticut to his folks place in Tallahassee and Asheville seemed like a good stopover.  

McLovin' hasn't changed much, personality-wise, since we'd last hung out about 25 years ago (man, where does the time go?).  He gave me a brief update.  After graduating from Northern Illinois as an Engineering major and a Language minor (earning the nickname "Lazy-Ass" in German from his unwillingness to study whatsoever and still be able to ace tests, even at the highest levels), he got his Master's in Engineering.  Upon returning to West Point and holding a string of laughable, menial jobs, not unlike the vast majority of us, he landed a cushy job in Germany for Mercedes-Benz.  He did that for awhile, returned to the states and has remained in the engineering field.  He explained to me that at his current job he is the one that decides to keep or scrap the airplane engine parts (some of which cost up to $125,000 to produce) that are only 99.9% perfect.

He was married but is now divorced and has 2 extremely well-behaved kids, son Paul, 10, and daughter Riley, 12.  Said kids are suspiciously well behaved.  I suspect they are actually aliens from another planet sent to scout earth for their future invasion.  I mean, come on, no fighting? No whining?  What's up with that?

 

After a BBQ and a few beers, we broke out my yearbook and settled down for a classic story telling session.  I reminded him of how he vandalized my yearbook.  He didn't remember doing it but readily conceded it was his handwriting, and since he/we were such assholes back then, it's exactly the kind of thing he'd/we'd do.  Many laughs later we called it a night.  The next day we went to Asheville's big hippifest, the Belle Chere.  Then they headed out after dinner for the long drive overnight to Tallahassee, a typical McLovin' Doin'-Things-My-Way move.

Here are some of the highlights of his stay:

• Through sheer coincidence, he has witnessed virtually all of my brother's left hooks back in the day.  I was kinda surprised by how many there were.  Fortunately, none were directed at him.
• He still has that hilarious way about him of dismissing anything that isn't of 100% importance.  I'm not sure I'm able to describe it well, but if you knew him back then, you'd know what I'm talking about.  For instance, if he had been a counselor of some sort, here's how I would imagine him:  Client- "I'm having trouble cutting down on the drinking..." McLovin' - "OK. Listen. This is what you have to do: stop drinking."  Client - "But.." McLovin' - "OK, shut up. You're being stupid. Just stop drinking..."etc...
• Sister Brigeet cautioned his daughter about me, telling her (among other horrible things probably) that I was most likely fat and bald.  Hey, whatever lie you gotta tell yourself honey so that you don't cry yourself to sleep each night over having let this prize get away is fine by me.  Do what you gotta do!
• He's lost track of the number of degrees his father has earned/is still earning but is running out of new ones to pursue.  His best guess: 42.  Wow.

Me, decidedly not fat and bald (L), and McLovin' (R), drinking brews, talking shop.

My brother has been kicking around the idea of us having some kind of reunion.  I don't know if it'll happen or not, but I'm definitely on board after this visit.  

Stay thirsty my friends.

Women and Children First, Part II

Remember the spring of 1980? That was when Van Halen's Women and Children First came out. It was Van Halen's high point. Sure, Fair Warning was pretty damn good, but it was darker. They didn't seem to be having as much fun. Back in 1980 though, they still sounded like they were having fun being around each other.

We all know how things turned out. Eventually, David Lee Roth left and was replaced by Sammy Hagar. I didn't care for much of the VH Mach II or anything else that followed. Hagar just didn't get it done for me. Recently, Hagar was hanging out with VH bandmate Michael Anthony, the Red Hot Chili Peppers' drummer Chad Smith, and shred-god Joe Satriani. They thought they sounded pretty good, so they hit the studio, and the result is Chickenfoot.

And oh, man, does it sound good! On the first listen, all I could think of is how much they sounded like Van Halen. I would never mistake Satchmo's licks for Eddie's, but there's enough of a similarity here to remind you of him. And Joe sounds so good! Chad is a big upgrade on drums and it's noticeable. Hagar? Eh, he does alright. I wouldn't start a band with him, but I think his skills were wasted with VH.

And they're having fun! Listen to the beginning of Down the Drain. The songs are nice and long. There's false endings; there's fooling around at the beginning of songs like on Fools or Loss of Control. My brother says he thinks this is what Van Halen should have sounded like when Hagar joined them, and that sounds about right. I'm calling this the best album of 2009 so far. I'd give you a listen, but my musicshare site isn't cooperating.

BTW, did you catch the new UFO album? Don't know if you can call it UFO with Vincent Moore on guitar and new guy playing bass, but I'm buy into it for now.

Another Max Q. Peck Classic

Max posted another classic video on YouTube a little while back, and my involvement in it, of course, only adds to its sheer genius.  Go check it out if you haven't seen it yet, and then come back here.  I've got several things to say about it.

• First off, Max was doing some background filming for a skit he was putting together where a guy draws one of those "Tippy" pictures they had back in the day to sucker people into thinking they were artists (remember those).  Well, this guy mails in an atrociously sloppy rendition, but somehow manages to become a big-time artist until his life takes a downturn spiral, you know the story. Classic Max Q. Peck irony.
  

• TA and I came in, intellectuals that we are/were, totally unscripted, arguing about the meaning of life and how... ok, we were arguing about whether or not I could beat up John Rogers given that he has a black belt and I have have considerable size on him.  Take John and me out of the equation, and I still stand by taking the bigger guy over the martial arts guy.  Mock me all you want. 
  

• We got an anonymous heckler here at the WPSG blog a little while back. I literally have no idea who it was, but I got the impression it was someone who felt slighted by us back in the day.  To anonymous I say that no matter how much we may have made fun of someone back then, we were way harsher on each other!  We totally mocked each other day in and day out.  We could dish it out, and we could take it.  This episode is absolutely representative of our interactions when we hung out.
  

• My absolute favorite part of this video is that I'm wearing an MIT hoodie!  How awesome is that?  I look like a friggin' homeless guy, but I got an MIT hoodie.  I think my parents were like,"Look, my kid's not some loser going to RCC, no sir! He goes to MIT!"  I don't remember the circumstances in getting it (it was probably a Christmas present), but I think it went something like this.
  

Me: Wow, an MIT hoodie, thanks mom.

Mom: Say, listen, if anyone asks, you go there, ok?

Classic.