Justin's weekend:
Plan 1 was a long standing one in which a buddy was flying out from Dallas and we were to head down to Rosarito for sun and sauce. Ever the impatient type, he got a head start on the sauce thursday night and foolishly decided to drive home. The cops thought that was a bad idea, so he was in a cell when his plane took off.
Plan B was to be a part of Maxx's alcoholic coming of age. I was confident that I would be there up until I strolled out to my car and found that my roomate, who's car was blocking mine in, had gone for a surprisingly late night jog (he's a Marine...they do things like that). I fruitlessly tried to find his keys, but did manage to find his cellphone...so much for calling it. By the time he made it back, it was almost 10:00P and, what with being an hour from the alley, I settled for yelling some then wandered to the local boozer.
Plan III involved spending some time at the Beach Bash which, miraculously, did happen. I got to see some badass grandmasters of skating do their thing in the bowl (including one animal who was on roller skates...honest to goodnes, old school skates). Duane Peters took the class by being a total pimp with more balls at 40 than most of the 20-somethings.
Plan 1 was a long standing one in which a buddy was flying out from Dallas and we were to head down to Rosarito for sun and sauce. Ever the impatient type, he got a head start on the sauce thursday night and foolishly decided to drive home. The cops thought that was a bad idea, so he was in a cell when his plane took off.
Plan B was to be a part of Maxx's alcoholic coming of age. I was confident that I would be there up until I strolled out to my car and found that my roomate, who's car was blocking mine in, had gone for a surprisingly late night jog (he's a Marine...they do things like that). I fruitlessly tried to find his keys, but did manage to find his cellphone...so much for calling it. By the time he made it back, it was almost 10:00P and, what with being an hour from the alley, I settled for yelling some then wandered to the local boozer.
Plan III involved spending some time at the Beach Bash which, miraculously, did happen. I got to see some badass grandmasters of skating do their thing in the bowl (including one animal who was on roller skates...honest to goodnes, old school skates). Duane Peters took the class by being a total pimp with more balls at 40 than most of the 20-somethings.
I used to skateboard all the time, but then the futility of constantly trying to perform insane trick after insane trick to try to keep up with the current skatepunks who were my friends finally caught up to me. Just rollin' on thru the blacktop with my hands in my pockets and the wind on me has become much much more fun.
These new skatepunk kids are soft anyways. Gimme those late 70s early 80s thrashers. They knew how to rock.