tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26550522447571649042024-03-13T08:19:56.258-07:00The West Point Skateboard GangTony Alvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015995902834461332noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-37068609727173231642012-07-26T21:25:00.003-07:002012-07-27T06:03:17.312-07:00OK, How Do I Write This Dang Blog Thingie Again?Whew, it's been awhile since I've blogged, probably since around the time Facebook took over the world, and that was what, like 10 years ago? Anywho...<br />
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So I skated over to my brother's house tonight... Oh hells to the yeahs bitches!!! On my Rogers Brothers Street Luge longboard no less!!!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Hell ya I rock!!!</span></div>
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Wait, let me back up. I was at my brother's 30 year high school reunion last weekend up in New York. I know, right, he is old! Anywho, WPSG alumni Dave Rogers, Budha, and Hutch were in attendance, and many a belly laugh was had as good times were revisited. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">L-R: Budha, Mathdude, Tony Alva, Hutch, and Dave Rogers</span></div>
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At the end of Saturday night, Dave pulled out a bunch of brand spanking new Rogers Brothers Street Luge longboards and handed out one to each of the old gang! Unbelievable! I don't know about you, but the number of times I've given out gifts worth hundreds of dollars is... hold on...carry the 3... um, <b>NEVER</b>! Dave, I gotta say we were all blown away and greatly appreciative of your generosity.<br />
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Once I got home, I went online and ordered wheels, bearings, trucks, mounting screws, base plates, and grip tape which I got today and put together.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>My Review of a Rogers Brothers Street Luge Longboard</b></span></div>
First of all, you can shut the hell up already with the cracks about being too old to skate. Dave skates, and he's a year older than me. Sure it's been awhile, but I practically lived on a skateboard for many years, and once I hopped on SWEET MOTHER OF GOD THIS THING IS FAST!!!! <br />
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Since I got the black metal board (versus the wood one he was handing out), I opted for red 65 mm Krypts (along with the matching red grip tape not shown above). I don't know how much change has occurred in the skating world, but the combination of these wheels on this board is considerably faster than what I remember skateboards being. I'll admit to being a little rusty and having a little trouble with the wide turning radius of a longboard, but really the only trouble I had was avoiding accelerating to Warp 9.9 on even the mildest of hills. The ride is exceptionally smooth. And fast. Did I mention the fast part? Even skating uphill wasn't too bad as long as the hill wasn't too steep. My feet sat very naturally and comfortably on the deck, and I got the urge to go into a tuck whenever the board accelerated down a hill, though that was never something I was into, and in no way do I see myself doing that anytime soon.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">John and Dave (titled "Rogers Bros. Street Luge & Stand Up Ass Puckering Run 2) Ass puckering indeed!</span><br />
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</span>We'll see how often I use this thing, but I can definitely see myself skating from car to office at the campus I teach at, and I can see myself skating from time to time over to my brother's house and maybe even for funsies around the neighborhood and golf cart paths. For you other guys looking to equip your board, if you have the wood board, the standard 7.5 inch truck ought to be sufficient, but if you got a metal board like I did, you might consider getting a wider truck. I got all my stuff at <a href="http://www.warehouseskateboards.com/">Warehouse Skateboards</a> online and got my order 2 days after I ordered it.<br />
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As I was exiting my brother's neighborhood, an annoying old lady working on her lawn yelled over to me "You better put on a helmet!" Screw you, you old bag! If the collective efforts of my parents and the West Point MP's couldn't get me to wear a helmet, what makes you think you can?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-13198475899030142282011-03-22T07:50:00.000-07:002011-03-22T13:38:36.524-07:00Sombody 'splain it to'em...I used to occasionally blog for this critical site a couple of years ago that has since moved to Facebook. Lot's of interesting characters, lot's of amazing talent, and lot's of very smart people. I am the odd man out naturally and sometimes the highbrow, fine china, and pinkies sticking out while tea is being sipped just gets the best of me and I can't control myself. The topic of the week over there is sounds you fell in love with the first time it hit your ears. The Bob Dylan fan boi's offered up the usual classics from his amazing cannon of work, so I tossed out Van Halen's 'Eruption' and it elicited the below exchange. Thought it was worth sharing. Read on...<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">My original post:</span></strong><br /><br />"Love at First Sound"... There are a million guys who can play something like this now, but in 1978 there was only one and Eddie was it. NOBODY had EVER heard ANYTHING like this before, and my Dogtownist skate punk friends and I listened to nothing else that whole summer.<br /><br /><br /><object width="640" height="390"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sI7XiJgt0vY&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sI7XiJgt0vY&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="320" height="195"></embed></object><br /><br />Eddie Van Halen - Eruption<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Comments:<br /></span></strong><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YRHMEMVcIUY/TYi8JKVw6KI/AAAAAAAABEE/5ffsDiNsJ4I/s1600/Newcritics2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 63px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 61px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586922203333585058" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YRHMEMVcIUY/TYi8JKVw6KI/AAAAAAAABEE/5ffsDiNsJ4I/s200/Newcritics2.jpg" /></a><strong>Newcritics Dude:</strong> I have to confess, I never got EVH. I mean, no doubt his was an original sound, and the way he worked the Floyd Rose changed the lexicon of the guitar. But I never liked that weird tone on the records with the dummy load and the cranked amp... driving another amp. Always sounded shrill and buzzy to me. And all that hammer-on twiddling seemed almost self-parodic from the start...coulda been Nigel Tufnel's bastard son! I like some of the Van Halen records, especially the poppier stuff. And I appreciate Eddie's role in the development of the guitar. But I never much liked his guitar playing or tone and time hasn't made it any more appealing to me. High gain, cascading preamp stage guitar tone and fast hammer-on arpeggios up there with early midi drums, Ronald Regan, and Flock of Seagull hair as one of the many reasons I'm glad it's not still the 80s.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WeH4xRbDg3Y/TYi6mS3ZGzI/AAAAAAAABD0/nmt5jt2juqI/s1600/Bloody%2BPic.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 56px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 55px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586920504815065906" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WeH4xRbDg3Y/TYi6mS3ZGzI/AAAAAAAABD0/nmt5jt2juqI/s200/Bloody%2BPic.jpg" /></a><strong>Patrick Phillips:</strong> Newcritics Dude, I almost feel sorry for you if you don't get the overall significance and majesty of this record and what a game changer it was. That tone, that overdrive, but more importantly those songs. The first four VH albums are certain classics front to back, but the first one with 'Runnin' with the Devil, 'Jamie's Cryin', 'Atomic Punk', and what is the master piece 'I'm the One'. Nigel's searing parody was a result of woefully inadequate imitators who eventually took over the scene, but before all that there was Eddie and the boys introducing skate punks to the Kink's 'You Really Got Me' in a way that changed everything forever. Out in front of it all was 'Eruption', a moment caught on tape by accident when the engineer forgot to hit the stop button. It pretty much encapsulated EXACTLY who we were.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YRHMEMVcIUY/TYi8JKVw6KI/AAAAAAAABEE/5ffsDiNsJ4I/s1600/Newcritics2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 63px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 61px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586922203333585058" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YRHMEMVcIUY/TYi8JKVw6KI/AAAAAAAABEE/5ffsDiNsJ4I/s200/Newcritics2.jpg" /></a><strong>Newcritics Dude:</strong> Intellectually I get the significance. That is, I understand the impact. I just don't enjoy the sound of it at all, and I'm not crazy about the playing either; those twiddling, hammer-on arpeggios at best sound funny to me at worst grate on my nerves. It's music that just doesn't touch me much. I like Running with the Devil, I guess, that's okay. I'm a song guy, not a playing guy. Gimme a great song and I don't care much about the playing. Gimme great playing in service of a mediocre song and I'm outta there. I never much care about virtuosity and EVH to my taste equals a lot of unpleasant sounding empty virtuosity...kinda the guitar equivalent of singers like Mariah Carey loading up every note with all that melissma. It was unique and fresh and influential. I get that. I just never liked it very much.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WeH4xRbDg3Y/TYi6mS3ZGzI/AAAAAAAABD0/nmt5jt2juqI/s1600/Bloody%2BPic.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 57px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 55px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586920504815065906" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WeH4xRbDg3Y/TYi6mS3ZGzI/AAAAAAAABD0/nmt5jt2juqI/s200/Bloody%2BPic.jpg" /></a><strong>Patrick Phillips:</strong> It's SO much more than Eddie's virtuosity. If it was only that, me and a million others back then would have been skating swimming pools to Andre Segovia. Those first four VH records are chock full of great songs. The drums are real, the guitar is real, nothing between the vocal other than a microphone and analog tape it was recorded on. The fucking POWER! The pick slide to the A chord alone in Eruption gets my heart pumping nitro. It's youth, it's power, it's sex, you can smell it it's so nasty.<br /><br />Ronald Reagan? Mariah Carey? Really?<br /><br />Eruption for me is the feeling that washes over you just after easing out the door after dinner on a Friday night with the all F's report card you got that day safely in your pocket hidden from your folks who will eventually ask for it and ground you for a month, but not tonight. NOT tonight.<br /><br />It ain't Hawthorne, it's rock and roll... </div><div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YRHMEMVcIUY/TYi8JKVw6KI/AAAAAAAABEE/5ffsDiNsJ4I/s1600/Newcritics2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 63px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 61px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586922203333585058" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YRHMEMVcIUY/TYi8JKVw6KI/AAAAAAAABEE/5ffsDiNsJ4I/s200/Newcritics2.jpg" /></a><strong>Newcritics Dude:</strong> Well, I admit, I never got all Fs on my report card...but I dunno, I know a lot of people responded to VH the way you did and I DO like some of the band's material..but I never had the visceral response to it that the band's fans have, I'm not much touched by it, and, as I said, if I had any visceral response at all it was to the the guitar tone which I disliked from the start and still do....I know there are a lot of people for whom "where were you when you first heard VH 1" is a big deal...I hear about it from guitar players of a certain sort and a certain age all the time. I get the impact it had on other folks. Just never did anything for me.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WeH4xRbDg3Y/TYi6mS3ZGzI/AAAAAAAABD0/nmt5jt2juqI/s1600/Bloody%2BPic.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 57px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 55px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586920504815065906" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WeH4xRbDg3Y/TYi6mS3ZGzI/AAAAAAAABD0/nmt5jt2juqI/s200/Bloody%2BPic.jpg" /></a><strong>Patrick Phillips:</strong> Well, I admit, I DID get all F's on my report card. School was an evil institution devised and constructed by the man to keep me inside on a perfectly good day when I could be bombing Stoney Lonesome Mountain on my skateboard. I grew up as most did, but all this music that you seem to "not get" from Aerosmith to Van Halen is what got me and legions of others through it all. It was everything really.<br /><br />I know, you can't feel what you don't feel I get that. Perhaps you’re simply older and missed it. Perhaps you were more of a cerebral dude in HS, hell, we all seek more from the music we listen to as we mature emotionally, I did too. Some completely abandon what they once enjoyed musically. I don’t get that at all, because the guy that got the F’s and whose life was skateboarding and girls is still there. It ain’t a nostalgia trip either, it's a small part of who I am today. I like and listen to it all from the innocuous early 70’s top 40 pop to Elvis Costello and everything I picked up along the way.<br /><br />I’m not beefin’ or attempting to change your mind just hoping to enlighten you a bit to the 'other' eighties that was happening. The other eighties that was 180 degrees from The Flock of Seagulls. </div>Tony Alvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015995902834461332noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-87224526957097412332010-04-15T11:47:00.000-07:002010-04-16T07:46:51.843-07:00The Legacy of Warren Bolster...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/S8dpsGeOMyI/AAAAAAAABAs/iAUQnFq6QGY/s1600/Greg_Weaver_Skatopia.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 399px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460449279582548770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/S8dpsGeOMyI/AAAAAAAABAs/iAUQnFq6QGY/s400/Greg_Weaver_Skatopia.jpg" /></a> Inspired by a recent conversation…<br /><br /><div>One spring morning in 1976 while our family was living in Newport News, VA, my dad stopped the fully loaded family truckster in front of the Ft. Monroe PX. We were about to embark on a family journey down to see my grandparents in Raleigh NC, and as was the routine, we each got to load up on magazines, candy, and crap to occupy ourselves with for the next six hours. It was there that I pulled the very first issue of Skateboarder Magazine out of the rack. It was not just MY first copy of the publication, but it happened to be the very first issue produced. I never missed another.</div><br /><div>I had by then attached my sister’s roller skate wheels to a crudely crafted piece of plank, and may have already move on to a cheap K-Mart plastic skateboard with urethane open ball barring wheels. Most of what we used our primitive skateboards for at that time was to carry us to the 7-11 to steal penny candy and play pinball. Any ‘tricks’ we mastered I’d learn from friends during recess at the penitentiary like Catholic School I was attending in sixth grade which had finally let out for the summer. That issue of Skateboarder Magazine changed EVERYTHING in my life for the next seven years or so.</div><br /><div>The medium of photography is a strange thing. Without being armed with an academic background in appreciation for the art form, photos can still leave lasting impressions without the observer even being able to fully grasp why. Like great music, great photography can satisfy and amaze you even as one matures intellectually and emotionally, you just begin to figure it out, not what you were missing necessarily, but rather the nuisance you couldn’t quite articulate previously while being so mesmerized by a particular piece of work. This is the center of my ever growing appreciation for the work Warren Bolster and the team who put together Skateboarder Magazine those few years, and why a six hour car ride in an unair-conditioned station wagon packed with six other people and a dog flew by like ten minutes.<br /></div><br /><div>A couple of years ago while Googling my random thoughts, I enter Warren Bolster’s name in the search box and was excited to discover <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Legacy-Warren-Bolster-Skateboard-Photography/dp/0973528613/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1271360421&sr=1-1">a collection of his work in coffee table book form</a> and ordered a copy immediately. It didn’t take long to discover why those photos were so appealing to me as a sixth grader, and as a teenager in high school, and as an adult years later. Every one of them is simply AMAZING! Bolster was already a master surfing photographer before being asked to start Skateboarder Magazine and his entrenched surfer style dominates the photos that filled the early issues. The colors are just unreal, but it’s his ability to capture the beauty of movement that sets him apart from anyone else. There were other staff photographers at Skateboarder that were master surf photographers in their own right as well, but Warren was the one who translated the majesty of the ocean to the world of concrete and asphalt better than anyone else by a long shot and the distinction was immediately recognizable.<br /></div><br /><div>As a young skater in my own right, I instinctively had an appreciation for the microsecond long pressure points being captured in those pictures, the wooden tails slapping the coping of a swimming pool, or the last remaining translucent red wheel clinging to the top edge of a vertical plywood ramp, the grinding of light alloy metal trucks against a curb. Pure crystallizing moments of intensity captured perfectly for civilian eyes to witness. It wasn’t just the then unimaginable acrobatics of prehistoric vertical skating either, because long before the boys in Santa Monica jumped into empty neighborhood swimming pools, they were honing their craft and writing their poetry on the dirty streets of drought ridden Southern California. Warren plies his skills at capturing these ‘Moments’ in these other skate disciplines equally well. When downhill skating became the next nation to conquer, Warren made guys rolling down a hill look as exciting as the first time the rear wheels of Tony Alva’s Zephyr deck lifted off the coping of a pool ushering in the age of weightless skateboarding.<br /></div><br /><div>As fearless (crazy?) teens, we followed these trends back east like brainwashed Al Queda members. “Did you guys see Guy Grundy on page 32 rolling down La Costa Hill standing up at 55 mph? Let’s give that a try on Stony Lonesome Mountain tonight!” And why the fuck not, right? These photos are what we hypnotized ourselves with during study hall instead of reading ‘Mrs. Mike’. They inspired us to emulate the west coast created madness the first chance we got. As an adult who has supposed to have gained my senses long ago, looking at the pictures now I wonder how these photos didn’t inspire EVERYBODY to take a skateboard down Stony Lonesome Mountain, they’re that good.</div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/S8dqx7k3BWI/AAAAAAAABA8/03LpnhwOV7g/s1600/Surfer.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460450479248442722" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/S8dqx7k3BWI/AAAAAAAABA8/03LpnhwOV7g/s400/Surfer.jpg" /></a><br /><div>I’ll sound like old man winter grousing about how everything was better way back when, before money corrupted everything, etc… but Warren’s photos also capture what has been long lost to the sport of skateboarding today (hell, we’d get offended if they called it a ‘sport’ back then!), and that’s the violent elegance transformed into the grace of movement born from its surfing forbearance. I have a deep admiration for the contemporary purveyors of skateboarding and can’t get enough of the aerial acrobatic insanity that they pull off at such soaring heights these days, or the endless nut racking stunts the youngest of kids are performing using nothing more than an ordinary picnic bench, but it’s connection to surfing has all but faded to obscurity like Bill The Butcher’s grave. Surfing was where it all came from back then. Skateboarding is what they did on flat days. Perhaps that didn’t hold true for us Eastcoasters, but we knew the deal. Now, along with snowboarding, one can learn to skate without even having the slightest appreciation for the mystery of ocean surfing and the associated ancient rites of the culture. This is what Skateboarder Magazine was able to accomplish and package into a box for export using brilliant photography and honest creative scribe (at least for those of us who spoke and understood the language).</div><br /><div>I remember as skateboarding became more popular and mainstream (i.e. no longer relegated to long haired teenage degenerates and suicidal rock n rollers) other publications became available. Me and my crew made no time dismissing all of them as weak ass shite. The “how to” articles, cheesy photography, the contest results, Leif Garrett doing nose wheelies, etc… Fuck off. Who gives a shit about any of that? Not us. If you are lucky enough to find an old issue of Skateboarder Magazine or ever get your hands on Warren Bolster’s book, you’ll see and know instantly exactly what I mean.</div>Tony Alvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015995902834461332noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-25858724954667446202010-03-02T07:40:00.000-08:002010-03-03T07:01:53.065-08:001980 - A Unforgetable Year!<div style="text-align: left;">OK, I'm conceding a battle to my brother - but not the war! He claims the music we've always enjoyed is pretty much dead. I, on the other hand, believe the music's out there and that we are going though a revival of sorts, music-wise. He can cite the bands and the albums from back then, and I can counter with more recent stuff.</div><br />I will give him this, though, there has never been a year, musically, like 1980. Before or since.<br /><br />Let's start with January 1, 1980. The #1 record that day? Pink Floyd's The Wall.<br /><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409V8o7S8I/AAAAAAAAA7g/vc-W8M6qQ5Q/s400/41S86019Z6L._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444074971825130434" border="0" />OK, it wasn't released in 1980, but the year started with arguably the greatest album ever made at #1. So what was released in 1980? Perhaps you remember these.<br /><br />AC/DC's Back in Black<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406ukHwPPI/AAAAAAAAA7A/mEq76C0LI6U/s1600-h/312348NKAQL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406ukHwPPI/AAAAAAAAA7A/mEq76C0LI6U/s400/312348NKAQL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444072096205389042" border="0" /></a><br />Iron Maiden's self-titled debut album.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406jpyiIGI/AAAAAAAAA6w/aUfxi-9alKA/s1600-h/61ah1Yo14fL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406jpyiIGI/AAAAAAAAA6w/aUfxi-9alKA/s400/61ah1Yo14fL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444071908748435554" border="0" /></a><br />Def Leppard's debut album, On Through The Night.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406eodorWI/AAAAAAAAA6o/sjVWgf4X8Y8/s1600-h/51VSVXn9SSL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406eodorWI/AAAAAAAAA6o/sjVWgf4X8Y8/s400/51VSVXn9SSL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444071822493003106" border="0" /></a>Van Halen's Women And Children First (probably my favorite of 1980).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406QEznEhI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/r3Ci08vZcsg/s1600-h/31CD32BQSPL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406QEznEhI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/r3Ci08vZcsg/s400/31CD32BQSPL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444071572403327506" border="0" /></a>Black Sabbath's Heaven And Hell.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406ZPfbzrI/AAAAAAAAA6g/St_PwudUlGs/s1600-h/51TEaKw7seL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406ZPfbzrI/AAAAAAAAA6g/St_PwudUlGs/s400/51TEaKw7seL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444071729890315954" border="0" /></a><br />Judas Priest's British Steel.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406UJaAUlI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/D7yaeJ3JwM0/s1600-h/51ktpVraZDL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406UJaAUlI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/D7yaeJ3JwM0/s400/51ktpVraZDL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444071642357584466" border="0" /></a>Motorhead's Ace Of Spades.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406ocQtdoI/AAAAAAAAA64/JmVrBa6AGm0/s1600-h/618Zuqc4J5L._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406ocQtdoI/AAAAAAAAA64/JmVrBa6AGm0/s400/618Zuqc4J5L._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444071991016257154" border="0" /></a>Rush's Permanent Waves.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409oC4CLMI/AAAAAAAAA8A/thbfL3Uq9_M/s1600-h/61QbVjbQnJL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409oC4CLMI/AAAAAAAAA8A/thbfL3Uq9_M/s400/61QbVjbQnJL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444075282736753858" border="0" /></a><br />The Ramones' End Of The Century.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409QA0WDkI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/_nJXu4E84Ws/s1600-h/41BS1GC7Z5L._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409QA0WDkI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/_nJXu4E84Ws/s400/41BS1GC7Z5L._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444074869867548226" border="0" /></a><br />The Pretenders' self-titled debut album.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409LQdC9qI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/Y7oKzNKu07A/s1600-h/41-Bo29UpUL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409LQdC9qI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/Y7oKzNKu07A/s400/41-Bo29UpUL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444074788165449378" border="0" /></a><br />UFO's No Place To Run<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409swV_x4I/AAAAAAAAA8I/AJNmPY4lyjk/s1600-h/517QuSjQt1L._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409swV_x4I/AAAAAAAAA8I/AJNmPY4lyjk/s400/517QuSjQt1L._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444075363661498242" border="0" /></a>The Scorp's Animal Magnetism<div><br /><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S454unoskUI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/SE3dOOrChuo/s400/41Z57F66YEL._SS500_.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444421741846499650" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 305px; " /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406ukHwPPI/AAAAAAAAA7A/mEq76C0LI6U/s1600-h/312348NKAQL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><br /></a></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406ukHwPPI/AAAAAAAAA7A/mEq76C0LI6U/s1600-h/312348NKAQL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S406ukHwPPI/AAAAAAAAA7A/mEq76C0LI6U/s1600-h/312348NKAQL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"></a><br />Ted Nugent's Scream Dream (c'mon Terminus still rocks even today).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409jNQPbOI/AAAAAAAAA74/5kL_F3y3VSs/s1600-h/51Oo6GxTtUL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409jNQPbOI/AAAAAAAAA74/5kL_F3y3VSs/s400/51Oo6GxTtUL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444075199623294178" border="0" /></a><br />Ozzy's Blizzard of Oz.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409eiFRJrI/AAAAAAAAA7w/e_c69RjDS4M/s1600-h/51HxGpJ4HrL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409eiFRJrI/AAAAAAAAA7w/e_c69RjDS4M/s400/51HxGpJ4HrL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444075119315068594" border="0" /></a><br />Cheap Trick's All Shook Up (I know the rest of you probably hate this one, but I still dig it).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409ZSI_X7I/AAAAAAAAA7o/_-JefLXiI2c/s1600-h/51eCrYWkBrL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S409ZSI_X7I/AAAAAAAAA7o/_-JefLXiI2c/s400/51eCrYWkBrL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444075029136367538" border="0" /></a><br />And some of these I may not have listened to, but I know maybe some of the rest of you have, like...Thin Lizzy's Chinatown, The Clash's London Calling, Molly Hatchet's Beating the Odds (aka Molly Fatshit's Beating Off), Springsteen's The River, Saxon's Wheels Of Steel, Genesis' Duke, and Elvis Costello's Get Happy.<br /><br />No doubt about it - there was never a year like 1980!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-46288577685784964322010-02-21T06:29:00.000-08:002010-02-21T07:02:14.461-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S4FKLGEs7JI/AAAAAAAAA6A/cWtm9rIlgnU/s1600-h/41qQkwdcFdL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S4FKLGEs7JI/AAAAAAAAA6A/cWtm9rIlgnU/s400/41qQkwdcFdL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440711379309620370" /></a><br />There's a new Jimi Hendrix album coming out March 9th, Valleys of Neptune. I'm being cautiously optimistic about it, but at least the title track is pretty decent. There are several remakes of previously released material which means probably that they are second rate versions that have been passed over several times since Jimi's death. We'll see.<div><br /></div><div>I was thinking about Jimi on Martin Luther King Day. I was driving around with my ipod shuffle and Captain Coconut came on and I thought about how on my cruise the Red Hot Chili Peppers' version of "Havanna Affair" came up on my ipod as we were passing Cuba (thus making me the most rockin' dude on the cruise, but then we already knew that). See Captain Coconut (from Crash Landing) was originally called MLK, but the extremely white bread musicians called in to fix up Jimi's stuff had no idea what MLK meant. So they renamed the song Captain Coconut.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anywho, as I was listening to Captain Coconut/MLK on Martin Luther King Day trying to figure out what the hell Hendrix was trying to do with that song, it occurred to me that times were so much simpler back then. Good and evil were so less difficult to identify. Though I'm probably viewing it through rose colored glasses. Today everything just seems infinitely more complex, and I have to admit, more wonderful in so many ways. I think Jimi would have been pleased.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here is <a href="http://www.gigmax.com/files_send.php?c=384f717eb431b3eeaef104fedd0825614bb0089b">Valleys of Neptune</a> (the song) as a free download if you want a taste. You can go on iTunes and pre-order the album if you'd like as I have. And in case you haven't heard the RHCP version of <a href="http://www.gigmax.com/files_send.php?c=c76827d3d2b37c2d0bec4105f407ff7cfcdd2480">Havana Affair</a>, it is awesome as well.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-27704054033841287712010-02-08T15:11:00.000-08:002010-02-08T15:52:53.016-08:00Hey TA...I found your board!<div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436017600299103746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jssPqe2QxhU/S3CdNMqZdgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/HmvvRqy64ik/s320/alva.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436023785002406802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jssPqe2QxhU/S3Ci1Mekk5I/AAAAAAAAAAU/ps30mpQJ-H0/s320/alva2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>I was clicking through ebay today and ran across one of the "holy grail" skateboards from back in the day. If you have some cash burning a hole in your pocket, the bidding on this one was up to $1600.00 the last I checked.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>TA was all over the Dogtown and Alva stuff while many of us had no clue as to what was really cool. My coolest boards from back then are the ones that some dipshit ripped off from under my nose while a couple of us were jumping into those pole vault mats down at North Field. I still wonder if I knew the thief and what ever happened to those boards. One of them was my trusty old G&S Fiberflex and the other was my brand new Sims Superply with Mids and 65mm Krypto Reds.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It never crossed my mind in the late 70's that someday those pieces of wood would be worth some decent $$$$ as collector's items. Of course, I don't think I would be able to part with any of my old stuff...I'm sort of a pack rat for all things skateboard and '67 VW squareback. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It just crossed my mind that Valentine's Day is approaching...hint, hint Mrs. TA</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div></div>ROADRASHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03576280021491304748noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-24630054489067289532010-01-31T15:26:00.000-08:002010-02-03T14:00:42.514-08:00Black Rebel Motorcycle Club<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S2nvWrKRa8I/AAAAAAAAA54/lLNqUyKXUfo/s1600-h/1163299_426x104%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 98px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434137598221183938" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S2nvWrKRa8I/AAAAAAAAA54/lLNqUyKXUfo/s400/1163299_426x104%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a> Back in the day, the best part of hanging out was exchanging music.<br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 223px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433053294357389394" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S2YVL4fwIFI/AAAAAAAAA5o/T1_y7Pe-scY/s400/4611_1145859976823_1537255089_30358209_8041843_n.jpg" /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><i><span style="font-size:85%;">Chicks, man. What about the chicks?</span></i></div><br />OK, the second best thing about hanging out back in the day was exchanging music. I couldn't begin to count the number of times I heard something new being played on someone's tunes box. If you wish you still had reliable music critics within your circle of friends as much as I do, then this is the posting for you.<br /><br />Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is a trio out of San Francisco (Now based in LA) with Peter Hayes on guitar and Robert Levon Been on bass, although they occasionally swap instruments. Both sing, and their singing voices are almost indistinguishable. Their music is gritty, hard-rockin' badass Rock 'n' Roll, much like the stuff we used to listen to in high school.<br /><br />My brother and I caught their act a couple of years ago here in Asheville. When he and I argue about the state of the music world (he argues rock is dead), BRMC is the first band I cite that it is not. If you are unfamiliar with their work, oooooohhhh are you in for a treat today. I got the good stuff for you here.<br /><br />The album you'll want to get is <b>Baby 81</b>. It's good from beginning to end. Arguably, the catchiest song from it is <b><i>Weapon of Choice</i></b>. Here's the video from YouTube.<br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/94c7fdAxTas&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/94c7fdAxTas&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br /><br />That's badass, right? Here's some songs for you to download and add to your ipod. <b><i><a href="http://www.gigmax.com/files_send.php?c=0d3e3d8ccf486d2c09492389ccf4913331110b9a">Weapon of Choice</a></i></b> and <b><i><a href="http://www.gigmax.com/files_send.php?c=6bae20c285059273e75080c2261eee828c72db92">Berlin</a></i></b> are from <b>B</b><b>aby 81</b>, but I'm giving you the version of Berlin from their Live album and DVD released last November that can only be purchased online from their official website <a href="http://www.blackrebelmotorcycleclub.com/">here</a>. If you'd like to check out a way-cool video of an interview on BBC Radio, click <a href="http://www.gigmax.com/files_send.php?c=188501f2796d3df599a19610ab3b24f430ca8d70">here</a> (caution - it's 199 MB). I also have for you <a href="http://www.gigmax.com/files_send.php?c=8d6ca0176308aa58edb2d795c5010331fb77ee2f"><i><b>Whenever You're Ready</b></i></a> from <b>American X</b>, and<a href="http://www.gigmax.com/files_send.php?c=bed92df2ac700c3bd1e4afc02840de0c645a89ef"><b><i> Shuffle Your Feet</i></b></a> from <b>Howl</b>. Their next album, <b>Beat the Devil's Tatoo</b>, is due out next March. Here's an early taste of it posted on YouTube.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9BSJGclcN1I&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9BSJGclcN1I&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-18214802574943663042010-01-28T15:49:00.000-08:002010-01-31T18:45:30.609-08:00Another Prodigal Son Found<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S2ZAQQ9_tvI/AAAAAAAAA5w/cQszDVFqCrs/s1600-h/21060_102037906492278_100000582081929_53543_5492439_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 348px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/S2ZAQQ9_tvI/AAAAAAAAA5w/cQszDVFqCrs/s400/21060_102037906492278_100000582081929_53543_5492439_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433100648646162162" /></a><br />Back in the day, I didn't know him very well because he was a bit younger than me and he wasn't much of a skater (that I remember anyways - sorry dude). I remember him being much skinnier. I don't know when this picture was taken, but he clearly has a David Lee Roth Rockstar thing going on here. Without further ado - Pope! Hey Pope, how about dropping a comment telling us what you've been up to.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-83862571564372911542009-11-10T07:24:00.000-08:002009-11-10T07:31:46.431-08:00Veteran's Day PostingSo I was reading <em><strong>Sons of Slum and Gravy</strong></em> 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.<br /><br />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 <a href="http://davidgarzaisgod.blogspot.com/2009/11/veterans-day-posting.html">here</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-51809008715193314882009-10-21T13:51:00.000-07:002009-10-21T14:37:27.642-07:00Mad Props<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/St98JtAHsqI/AAAAAAAAA3w/AhepBijvK_8/s1600-h/41cYamTpMyL__BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA240_SH20_OU01_.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395167384753910434" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/St98JtAHsqI/AAAAAAAAA3w/AhepBijvK_8/s400/41cYamTpMyL__BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA240_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></a><br /><div>My brother passed on to me recently that our dad has a chapter written about him in a book offered on Amazon.com, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/reader/1438997574?_encoding=UTF8&ref_=sib%5Fdp%5Fpt#noop">Sons of Slum and Gravy</a>, 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. </div><div></div><br /><div>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.</div><div></div><br /><div>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. </div><div></div><br /><div>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!</div><div></div><br /><div>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.</div><br /><div>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.</div><br /><div>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.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-71086599208527986892009-09-18T07:46:00.000-07:002009-09-18T08:15:40.967-07:00More Signs We Are Awesome!The West Point Skateboard Gang Blog has a follower!<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 165px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382825641233262018" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SrOjZrmSpcI/AAAAAAAAA3g/WPeHR07Qp5A/s400/Picture+30.jpg" /><br /><div></div><div>It's not even anyone we know (I think), and it's not even someone from our generation - how awesome is that?<br /><br />The <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/01337326024730201560">Orignal Blooperman</a> is a fellow skater. His blog is <a href="http://theonlyrawsomeblog.blogspot.com/">Blooperman's Rawsome Blog</a>. Almost all of us WPSG'ers are too old, too out of shape, or too brittle to skate, except for the <a href="http://www.rogers-bros.com/">Rogers Brothers</a> of course...</div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382825576094910786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SrOjV48GSUI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/zRTzBPphHmc/s400/1971_small.jpg" /></div><div>... 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!<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Google Legit</span></strong><br />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?</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-41365123088918065482009-08-14T12:51:00.001-07:002009-08-17T12:45:56.512-07:00Kessler...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/SoXAd0-dLrI/AAAAAAAAA9M/DL0NZDG5Jfo/s1600-h/Kessler.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 392px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369909749378526898" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/SoXAd0-dLrI/AAAAAAAAA9M/DL0NZDG5Jfo/s400/Kessler.jpg" /></a><br /><div>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 <a href="http://happydays.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/08/13/the-end-of-falling/">this article</a> 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.<br /><br /></div><div><em>"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."</em></div><div></div><div></div><div><br />That's good stuff. RIP Andy Kessler. I didn't know ya, but then again maybe I did.</div>Tony Alvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015995902834461332noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-32092970597277900802009-08-11T08:50:00.000-07:002009-08-11T10:40:18.894-07:00Catching Up With An Old FriendA 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. <div> </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>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?</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>Here are some of the highlights of his stay:</div><div><ul><li>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.</li><li>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...</li><li>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!</li><li>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.</li></ul><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 371px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SoGcljzWW1I/AAAAAAAAA1w/77GBPdTIwNo/s400/100_0171.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368744399882050386" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Me, decidedly not fat and bald (L), and McLovin' (R), drinking brews, talking shop.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>Stay thirsty my friends.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-16687762988251128712009-06-25T16:25:00.000-07:002009-06-30T09:47:23.299-07:00Women and Children First, Part II<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351415520346028418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SkQMEA-8uYI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/Nz6-mqlWnoA/s400/Van+halen.jpg" border="0" />Remember the spring of 1980? That was when Van Halen's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Women and Children First</span> came out. It was Van Halen's high point. Sure, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Fair Warning</span> 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. <div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>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.</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351415896901725042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SkQMZ7w0q3I/AAAAAAAAA1Y/CeqiDoIeCaM/s400/CF.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>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.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>And they're having fun! Listen to the beginning of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Down the Drain</span>. The songs are nice and long. There's false endings; there's fooling around at the beginning of songs like on <em>Fools</em> or <em>Loss of Control</em>. 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. </div><div> </div><div>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.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-83327980896570302382009-06-17T16:49:00.000-07:002009-06-17T17:55:12.647-07:00Another Max Q. Peck Classic<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SjmMCjDlPTI/AAAAAAAAA1I/PWOdwM0lPuk/s1600-h/s1136520929_245260_333.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 122px; height: 130px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SjmMCjDlPTI/AAAAAAAAA1I/PWOdwM0lPuk/s400/s1136520929_245260_333.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348460007877066034" /></a>Max posted another classic video on YouTube a little while back, and my involvement in it, of course, only adds to its sheer genius. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjZmjKd-zaM">Go check it out</a> if you haven't seen it yet, and then come back here. I've got several things to say about it.<div><br /><div> </div><div><ul><li>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.<br /></li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><ul><li>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. <br /></li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><ul><li>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.<br /></li></ul><div><br /></div><ul><li>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.<br /></li></ul></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Me: Wow, an MIT hoodie, thanks mom.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Mom: Say, listen, if anyone asks, you go there, ok?<br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>Classic.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-83494916428944811302009-06-15T17:10:00.000-07:002009-06-16T10:51:58.959-07:00Another Brother In Arms FoundActually, with sister Brigeet on Facebook, it only required an inquiry to locate him. Without any further ado: Gorko*.<br /><br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SjbkCQVWaCI/AAAAAAAAA0g/ANBoUKnRL0E/s1600-h/unibomber.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347712334944430114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 144px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SjbkCQVWaCI/AAAAAAAAA0g/ANBoUKnRL0E/s400/unibomber.jpg" border="0" /></a>He's going to be stopping by Asheville for a visit next month with his 2 kids. I'll report more when it happens. If you see a comment by McLovin - that's him. Maybe he'll give a big update in the comments. Whatdya say Paul?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*OK, the picture is really the Unibomber, but he wouldn't send one to me, and this is how I imagine what he looks today.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">UPDATE</span></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">I was forwarded a couple of pictures from a secret unnamed anonymous scource. I totally nailed the Unibomber-thing, didn't I?</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347965289119407010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 227px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 340px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SjfKGIEU26I/AAAAAAAAA0w/Eck0g8TqZNA/s400/Skiing_at_Jiminy_Pk._2007.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347965498404835842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 362px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 237px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/SjfKSTt3EgI/AAAAAAAAA04/5KarM37i5i4/s400/img_0071.jpg" border="0" /></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-46918730709235905362009-06-11T11:56:00.000-07:002009-06-11T12:11:09.642-07:00Something I've actually forgotten...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/SjFWc_IJz5I/AAAAAAAAA7s/YhniijdfvWA/s1600-h/Mellow+Cat.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 339px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 439px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346149288647446418" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/SjFWc_IJz5I/AAAAAAAAA7s/YhniijdfvWA/s400/Mellow+Cat.jpg" /></a> Ann McNut's wrote me the following:<br /><br />"Do you guys remember a kick you were on when you called each other and everyone else you wanted to insult a "chef"? WTF was that all about?"<br /><br />I absolutely remember using that term and surely it was born during one of the many bong sessions at "The Lee Area" or "Delafield" spot, but I cannot shake it's origin from my brain. Anyone else remember it? Skateboarder Mag reference perhaps? Mellow Cat reference? Kevin Niccoli derivation? I don't know. It's killin' me...Tony Alvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015995902834461332noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-16611598545351732982009-05-27T08:31:00.000-07:002009-05-27T08:50:36.646-07:00Memoria, Contorted (On Memorial Day, 2009, for the army brats I grew up with, many now in the military.<p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328262645885959138" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.travelblog.org/Wallpaper/pix/sunrise_wallpaper-1152x864.jpg" /><br /></p><p>Because you know<br />better than anyone<br />that if forced to bite my tongue,<br />I will bite it off,<br />just to prove a point,<br /><br />I'll give you my life.<br /><br />And because<br />I somehow built this life from nothing<br />but freedom, rhythm, and air,<br />I hope you laugh. I want you to.<br />I want you to roar,<br />titter, giggle, whatever....<br /><br />And when my stories hit a pitch of sadness,<br />hear them as something absurdly yours:<br />like eerie songs from a tree saw<br />played on a tiny stage<br />by a tattoed girl,<br />famous among her own<br />because<br />she winces so pretty<br />when the quivering saw teeth bite<br />the high notes just below<br />her skillful calloused thumbs.<br /><br />See it all as something<br />you've earned: a cat-gut carnival<br />where nothing is smoke and mirrors,<br />except the lack of light.<br /><br />Sarah M. Daugherty - WP Brat<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Copyright May 2009 Used by permission all rights reserved</span></p>Tony Alvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015995902834461332noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-85839269251141732682009-04-28T09:32:00.000-07:002009-04-28T09:34:16.479-07:00Prodigal Son O' The Week<div>Guess who turned up on Facebook?</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329781413315169202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/Sfcv9P8hS7I/AAAAAAAAAxk/HhCIt1u1lyg/s400/lester.jpg" border="0" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-87696710085834512832009-04-24T07:18:00.001-07:002009-04-24T07:22:01.552-07:00News Flash! Another prodigal WPSG Son returns to the fold...Can anyone tell me who this guy is?<br /><br /><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328262645885959138" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/SfHKpWYD--I/AAAAAAAAA50/EaE5d82KA5Y/s400/Dennis+Bruno.jpg" /><br /></p>Tony Alvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015995902834461332noreply@blogger.com147tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-40860064339081640812009-04-21T19:23:00.000-07:002009-04-21T19:28:02.049-07:00I Don't Want To Get All Political And All...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/Se6AgqjlGDI/AAAAAAAAAxc/C7QZdSy0tpg/s1600-h/wslm-worlds-softest-mens-classic-low-cut-sock-12841.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 175px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xYJhq376A2c/Se6AgqjlGDI/AAAAAAAAAxc/C7QZdSy0tpg/s400/wslm-worlds-softest-mens-classic-low-cut-sock-12841.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327336707893565490" border="0" /></a><br />But once O'Bama fixes the economy, I hope he bans the use of those sissy-ass low cut socks by guys. If you wear them, turn in your man-card, dude!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-75758069443794493242009-04-01T08:28:00.000-07:002009-04-01T13:08:01.842-07:00Dude, You're Freaking Me Out!You probably didn't hear because I was pretty tight-lipped about it, but I had surgery on Monday to have my gallbladder removed. On Sunday night, I was watching TV with the G-Train, and <a href="http://www.planters.com/">the latest Planters commercial </a>came on. You know, the one where the 2 guys are fishing on a sailboat, and when they run out of peanuts, the one guy starts to halucinate that the other is Mr. Peanut. The other guy looks at his friend and says,"Dude, you're freaking me out!", and they fight until another can of peanuts is found. It was such a cool line that I told the G-Train that that's what I was going to say when I came out of surgery.<br /><br />So there I am on Monday all hooked up, ready to be wheeled in. The nurse turned some knobs on my IV, knocking me out. When I came to, the G-Train was there because I was operated on at the hospital where she works, and I said,"Dude, you're freaking me out!" just as promised. I know, I <em>am</em> hilarious!<br /><br />OK, so here's what really happened, at least according to my wife. When the nurse turned those knobs, I may have lost consciousness, but I unconsciously gave a lengthy and apparently incoherent oration on the history, theory, and philosophy of "Dude, You're Freaking Me Out!" About 5 minutes in, the G-Train asked the nurse to look the other way so she could hit me over the head to shut me the hell up.<br /><br />Now people snicker behind her back as she walks by them at work, and she wants to move to a place where they haven't heard what a freaking idiot her husband is. Yeah, good luck with that one Honey! For better or for worse, baby - ring a bell?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-36812416189363782422009-03-26T12:05:00.001-07:002009-03-26T12:06:26.070-07:00I don't really know nothin' about you...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/ScvSGnqUcbI/AAAAAAAAA5M/lh5lsohH120/s1600-h/Nightwolf.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317574796208533938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/ScvSGnqUcbI/AAAAAAAAA5M/lh5lsohH120/s400/Nightwolf.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Tony Alvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015995902834461332noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-83989759274217350442009-03-26T11:51:00.000-07:002009-03-26T11:55:44.555-07:00Just found on FB...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/ScvPnCDel9I/AAAAAAAAA5E/yB7-do50C8A/s1600-h/Chris,+Colleen,+and+Hutch.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317572054514309074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RmJspiDolx0/ScvPnCDel9I/AAAAAAAAA5E/yB7-do50C8A/s400/Chris,+Colleen,+and+Hutch.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Thanks Chris Dice...</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Tony Alvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015995902834461332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655052244757164904.post-91040450138360355332009-03-25T13:40:00.000-07:002009-03-25T13:56:28.713-07:00Invading The Great NorthwestA small crew of the Rogers family are going to invade Mark Wheeler's neighborhood this weekend. We are flying up to Portland to spend the weekend bombing <strong><a href="http://www.maryhillmuseum.org/loops.html">a really good hill</a></strong>, so we figured we would stop in to see Mark for a quick visit. I'm pretty sure the last time John and I saw Mark was around 1980. All these years later and skateboarding is still helping to bring us together!ROADRASHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03576280021491304748noreply@blogger.com6