Ganesh, Dogtown, Jay, and Venice Beach

After watching Dogtown and Z-Boys and feeling absolutely inspired by the story of Jay Adams and how much a of non-commercial, corporate-hating, live-or-die skater he was, I was amped to go to Hawaii and meet him. Meanwhile, my skate buddy, Harley, was looking up other interesting tids on the net. We found a comprehensive guide to Everything Dogtown here...

and also learned that Peggi Oki is not so far away.

The Pacific Ocean Park pier where the boys caught waves and respect ...

and the legendary shop where Jeff Ho would shape boards, Horizons West Surf Shop, and the DogTown and Z-Boys made a family and community for themselves is now in danger of being demolished and reincarnated as eco-friendly luxury condos...

My favorite actor of today, Emile Hirsch, not only starred in Into the Wild and Speed Racer (no joke, it's over the top, but he grounds it and takes that transformative hero journey like no other could. The cars are just a metaphor, baby) plays the one and only Jay fucking Adams in the movie about the life of the boys, Lords of Dogtown. What a match. Jay told Emile, make sure you represent my relationship with my mom--it was strong. Wow. From one icon to another, huh?

So after all this, Harley decides that we are going to actually go and pay homage to the Lords of Dogtown, and drive to "Dogtown" and skate the famous streets of Main and Bay. That was a truly magical day.

Magical Happening#1:
We get to the shop at Main and Bay and it looked closed. But right outside it read, "RIP Heath." We had such a blast drawing all the connections in our heads, that Heath played Skip in Lords of Dogtown, made friends with that family that way, Heath also being a very fuck-commercial Hollywood guy, commercial-anything like Jay, and we'd just read this beautiful article about Heath in LA Weekly, written by the arm of people who were his creative haven when he was in Los Angeles. It was historic, but it was closed off to us. So we went into the surf shop, and touched all the neoprene, looking for suits for women, and then suddenly, on the way out, the skate half of the shop was open! 

 As if we had made it open, with our sheer enthusiasm and reverence for being there. All the moments in history were there. The famous shot of all 12 Zephyr skate competitors. Peggy flying, Jay gliding, Tony cutting through air. I already eye my next board. Ganesh deserves a friend. 

Magical Happening #2:
We're skating down the paths, and we start surf riding, the same way these guys used to. Crouching, leaning back, leaning forward, and of course, all this while wearing my schoolgirl "Fuck You" skirt. Suddenly, we gain tremendous speed, because our centers of gravity are much lower. I was able to touch the front of my board just once, but for sure, people were looking at the Z-Boy and Z-Girl riding through. When they weren't looking at rainbow kites.

Magical Happening #3:
We hop off and start walking and suddenly some guys call Harley over. They are totally j-ing off to his longboard--they want to know where it's from, who made it, how old is it, how can it really be the only one like it in the world!!?
What's funny is that while he was basking in that 5 minutes of fame, I was being recognized! On Venice Beach! By a Black family! I saw them staring at me, thru my Arnettes, looking very opposite of the good little hip-hoppin' Indian girl who takes curry insults. I was in my prime, skater girl element. And still, they loudly whispered, "That's her, I know it's her! I see her on MTV!" I decided not to break Harley's fanclub, so that he could enjoy the feeling for himself for once.

Awesome Magical Happening #4:
Okay, and this shit you're going to flip out on. I did. We're skating down in the alley between Ocean and Main, I think, and we've been going for a while, sometimes Harley and I hold hands, and garner comments like "You guys are disgustingly adorable" and other times we'd get "Yeah! Wooh!!" but the best is when we got out our little cheapie new $10 "digital" camera, Harley was just turning around to crouch and snap an action shot of me, low to the ground and surf riding, when suddenly some bikers behind me, who Harley thought were going to ruin his shot, yell out, "Yeah girl! Just like Jay Adams!"

AKHKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

What the fuck!???? One day out, riding like I wish I was my idol, and I attract THAT kind of attention?????? HOLY HOLY F!!!!!!!! They call me by his name??????

Hilarious Happening #5: 

Harley got hit on by an old bird, just as I ran into a friend of mine who happens to be a songbird! So while we chat it up and talk about her album coming out, 'Ol Toothless is telling Harley how adorable he is, and "I'll bet your girl doesn't skate!" He corrects her, and her 85 year-old face sags and starts scowling at me. Aww yeah, all the girls love Harley.

She's Back, and She Ain't No Skate Vicki

She's one part energy, three parts consciousness, and one and a half parts rage. Stay tuned as she cracks open the long-awaited Sector 9 Ganesh in her mailbox, specially delivered from Florida, and prepares to ride -- without obstacles.

When One Thing Is On Hiatus

Everything goes on hiatus. No more skateboarding = no more laughing, singing, playing, smiling, eating healthy, working hard, working with a smile, making money, seeing friends, feeling loved, feeling lucky, being nice to people.

None of it.

It's like the well's gone dry.

Happy Birthday Anniversary, Nolan Ryan Mathur

Nolan Ryan Mathur was the very first reason I could claim to be a cool geeky girl. I had a dog named after a famous all-star Houston (Astros and then the Rangers) baseball player.

We got Nolan on August 13, 1988 from a breeder named Jeanette. I remember she had a box or two filled with beautiful black schnauzer puppies. At the time, they weren't beautiful to me, as my heart had randomly settled on the English Setter breed, so I was coming to the boxes with a "Whatever" look on my face. It was really up to my parents, who had so wistfully gravitated towards the Schnauzer breed, ever since a giant one had ended up on our front lawn, frightened, hungry and lost. They fell in love with this gentle giant as they cared for it, all up until the time the owner came and claimed him. It was then that we learned that dog's name had been Nolan Ryan. 

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* * *

So it came down to two pups who were brothers. One called "General Patton" and the other one Jeanette called "Sweetheart." We took a liking to "Sweetheart's" open and playful personality, but not to his name. It was ripe for replacement. I remember conducting an elaborate contest at home, too. The family would VOTE on the name. I submitted entries such as Magic, Astro, Jordan, even Hakeem! It was all moot in the end--my parents' hearts had settled on Nolan Ryan. Does that make my folks total rip-off artists? Well...I like to think they were "paying homage to." 

 

We also found out that May 15, 1988 was Nolan's official birthday. Always the rebel, I liked to celebrate the day he came into our lives, the end of summer date. In that way, he always had two mini-birthdays. I don't remember what we'd give him, nyla-rings in his earlier years, no doubt. Rawhide materials to chew on. Sweaters and fashion as he got older. But the one thing that stands out in my mind is how he would even earn his own "loot bag" on the birthdays of my sister and I! My parents would do up a lunchbag for him, draw a little devil on it, and insert into it some sort of Anonymous toy (faceless, mouthless, nothing-a-baby-or-dog-could-choke-on-less) and the infamous "recycled dollar." This piece of currency was used over and over in 13 or so birthdays. My parents must have been afraid Nolan would get "jealous" of us humans and our spending power, and thought that dollar just might curb his appetite. He never did spend it. Wonder why...

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Nolan peacefully left us on May 26, 2006. He was 18 years old and 10 days. That's what I call a full life! He was such a loved young dog, in both of his hometowns of Houston, Tx, and New Orleans, Louisiana. He was best known around the hoods for carrying my dad's Oil company trucker hats in his mouth on his walks. His profile is still up on dogster.com, and I still haven't figured out how to make his entry an "In Loving Memory Of" with a heart around it!

The reason I wanted to honor him on this blog today is because I am thinking about how cool it would have been if I had known how to skate when I was younger. Surely, a geeky 12-year old girl on her skateboard, skating her dog, would garner some looks and catapult me to a whole new level of cool. Possibly even gotten me a boyfriend (if I allowed it). Maybe even a future focused on sports (I was a helluva track runner). I might have eventually taught Nolan how to skateboard, and gotten us on America's Most Astounding Animals, prematurely pushing Nolan into a bitter life in the limelight.

Hm. It's funny to think of your life in sliding doors. What if...

But I love the life and times that I did have the privelege of enjoying with Mr. Nolan Ryan Mathur. The dog who made me forget all about the English Setter in about 1.5 hours. As we drove him home in our Nissan Stanza, I turned around and looked at him in his box. He propped his paws up on the edge of the box, standing up to look at me. Then he started to do that Michael Jackson move, where they stick their arms straight out in front of themselves, point, and gyrate their necks. He did it without the arm part, of course. I was delighted and said to everyone, "Look, he's dancing!" Then we heard a rumbling sound in his throat. And then he puked all over the carseat. Nolan's first bout of carsickness. He had me at barf.

Here's to our long walks in the field, my friend.

Dreamin', Flyin', Playin', Tryin'

There is one single thing that has been consuming my every free waking thought these days:

Could a board be more perfect for me?

There's nothing wrong with the one I'm riding, only that it's trucks, wheels, bearings are all rusty and dirty as shit, it has no speed and belongs to someone I...well. It needs to be replaced. Enter Ganesh. Exquisitely shown off by Sector 9. They make them good 'ol boards. No, he should not be so close to the ground. But I silently protested him on the modern day tube top. I actually don't mind him on my earth-friendly, planet-conscious piece of transportation, ESPECIALLY when he's the Remover of All Obstacles. Leaves, sticks, beer can rings be damned. Pardon my Hindi.

Save your money for the things that matter, kids.

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scary but awesome poster by wwf

I am of the opinion that we can help this planet along, one-car-off-the-road at a time, and I have volunteered to be one of those cars. I just want to see what it's like to train to where I need, and skateboard to the train. 100% fuel efficient journey. Zero emissions.

I test out the route on my buddy's Longboard tonight. I mentally prep for the journey. We're talking major flubbing, falling, tripping and looking stupid potential. He's not around, and it's my first REAL time out in public, on the streets, without him there, all by myself and with no safety around...

But it's important to me, so I go. I want to time it out on a day when I don't really need to be there on a schedule. So I can relax.

I start to make my way onto the pavement. Setting down this giant piece of wood. I feel like a little kid with a toboggan, setting it in line just right. Wiggling my ducktail excitedly, wanting to see who's watching. Nobody.

***

I'm surprised by how well I can carve around the grass and curvy paths when I need to. Manholes and cracks come, but we've mastered those. With these fatty wheels, I glide and cruise longer than usual, and it feels stupendous, right Biggie? There is quite a bit of kicking that's needed, but I fly by the BMW dealership, 99cent store, and reach the silly Teriyaki Grill sooner than expected! It's working! It's shaving minutes off the journey!

The curbs are still the challenge. I don't want to fall off, and I'm afraid of going down with the slopes. So I stop at every curb and pick up the board, cross the street like a safe little Ped, and continue on the other side. About 10 times. That's where I probably lose my advantage. But then there's a good downhill and I hang on. I only jump off when I need to brake! Cuz that's how I brake!

I get there in 13 minutes! It takes 20 to walk there. I'm impressed and f around in a nearby park. Trying out new things with the curb. I finally get the guts to follow the slope off a curb and go with it. That's what it is...you just go with it.

Doing that alone today was like a rite of passage. Slow speed, beginner status, safe riding and curb fear aside, I STILL get a shout out from a fellow experienced skater. He whizzes by, this cute half-Mexican shaved headed skater, tossing me a line. "Race you!" Hehehe. It's one of those rare days where being a girl has an advantage. But boy, anything you can do, I know I'm just a kick behind.

Channel Anger Into Balls

Bottom Line: When you're caught in the middle of some drama that has nothing to do with you, sometimes the best thing to do is take all that f'ed up fear you've had around the board and smack it down on the pavement, kick, and go.

No editing yourself. F'ed up sh*t always gives me a new set of cajones. And the feeling of running away from it (the same reason we turn up the music to deafening levels--to drown out the noise outside our heads as well as inside), is what gives me steam - to jump on, to try something crazy, to lose balance and not care, to not be perfect at any of the previous lessons, to hit a new level of confidence.

So next time you're afraid to just go go go, wait till you're really pissed about something. Balls will descend. Even on us ladies.

My Eyes Doth Deceive Me

I am always amazed at how I become a different person and *skater* after each session. My buddy calls it "time on the board." And like anything you practice, you're only going to get better with time.

On this particular night, we are skating back from one of our favorite school parking lots. The parking lot is good ground. The rest of the route is not. It's ridden with sidewalk cracks, uneven earth, valley faultlines, and tarred up crevasse. I like that last word.

As I skate, and try to gain speed, I realize that I am always stopped by the cracks! I mean, as soon as I see one coming, I just jump off the board prematurely, or start slowing down, knowing that if I don't, I'll be jolted off the board. It becomes super-annoying, and disrupts my flow.

Then, my skate buddy tries to push me over a crack as I approach it with speed. I get chickeny. "NO! I WON'T MAKE IT!" And of course, I don't.

But then, I think, "What if I don't know the cracks are coming? What if I close my eyes, or better yet, what if I see the cracks, and ignore what I *think* they're going to do to me, like force me off! What if I pretend they are just even ground...that I'm riding even ground all the way?"

I try it.

HOLY F'IN SMOKE! You won't believe the difference that made! Suddenly, with this new idea of what the cracks might or might not be, I just glide over them, like they're not even there!
In those moments, I am lightning speed, unstoppable, and victorious. And I am reminded of that quote that someone said..."When all you see is the goal, there are no obstacles."

The eyes suddenly become a liability to me during this aspect of skating. I have to skateboard as if the path in front of me is not the one I think it is, or want to avoid. But one that I can make up. Just. Like. That.

Damn that's deep!

Fall Off The Horse, Get Right Back On

My *skate buddy* and I have found this very cool place to go afterhours and "practice." Obviously he's been skating for a very long time. Me being his *cool new friend* I wanted to take up learning, as it's been a dormant desire of mine since I was 25 and moved out to LA.


So picture us in Agoura Hills. He's confidently cruising on his longboard. And I get to use his ex's short little board, with old ex's-ex's band stickers, dirty trucks and filthy wheels. But I give a new life to that board. I resurrect it.

I start to develop a quick confidence to keep my feet on the board while going down very mild slopes. My buddy teaches me how to psyche my ego out (as the ego is attached to safety at all costs, and will FORCE you off the board prematurely if he feels you're going too fast). You stand on that board, and you hone in on the ground, and you say to yourself, 'Stay on target... Stay on target..." Ah! Sometimes the ego wins. Other times, you let the Force carry you.

I realize that falling is inevitable. And there may be pain. Which is what I want to avoid. But the inevitable happens. And it doesn't even happen while I'm skateboarding! I decide to wheelbarrow (butt sitting on the board) down a realllly steep slope. Hands and feet all tucked in. I'm going, I'm going, I'm going like Bart Simpson, and then--it's too fast for me! So how do I brake? By throwing a hand, and a foot and a knee down onto the ground. Ouch! Bad idea.
Still not knowing how to brake, I tumble off and scrape up all aforementioned body parts, including rocking my spine a touch. Which is okay, because I think it actually threw things back into place. No need for hospitals. I'm alive!

As you can see, that even when we think we're safe...the ego still causes us to bail prematurely. This is the reason anybody ever "falls." So fight the fear. And get right back on.

Balance

It seems impossible at first. How do you stay on? What do you hang on to? What if you fall?

But if you just hop on, and have a caring friend hold you until you find your way...eventually they can let go and you can fly...even if for a moment.