THE
CALGARIANS
STARRING A CAST OF THOUSANDS
Cara-The Virgin
Yoda-The Calgarian Skate Guru
Scurvy Dog-His taste for
energy was never quenched
Swivel Necks-Thoroughly
Spun
Rocket Ron-For him,
everything was "No-Hag"
Ramp Ripper-Pile-driver Fred
Lunch Box-He rides till he piles
Wild Wenches on Boards-
They had no tear
The RAMP RIPPER
SCURV & YODA
Journalist: "What d'ya mean, I have to
empty out all my pockets? My plane's just
about to taxi onto the runway, ya Customs
Canuck."
Customs Agent: "I'm sorry, but you must
comply. What is this wrapped up in these
T-shirts, eh?"
The CC reveled, thinking he had found
a two-pound chunk of hash or some other
form of contraband.
J: "It's only a plastic skull. A gift from my
hosts."
CA: "Gift skull, eh?" The CC sarcastically
replied, as he unveiled what was actually a
real human skull. But how was he to know?
He's just a Customs Canuck. "What's your
occupation in the United States?" he
asked.
J: "I'm a writer for the San Francisco
Chronicle. I write the obituary column."
CA: "What's this camera equipment for,
eh?" was his reply when he discovered my
camera bag.
J: "I'm on vacation."
CA: "I see."
J: "No, you don't see. I'm gonna miss my
plane and I'm gonna be stuck in 'God's
Country, as you types call it. I don't like it
here that much."
CA: "Okay, you may pass. Have a nice
trip, eh."
I ran to my departing gate. It was to my
advantage to blast through a pack of Paki's
(Pakistanis) who were in my way. They
flew sprawled as their turbans unraveled. It
was then that the locals gave me a
send-off befitting a hero. Finally I slumped
into my seat, and before I knew it we were
airborne. I was on my way home, this
fast-paced episode of my life was finally
drawing to a close.
It all started several weeks ago when I
received a call from Brad Kasha, leader of
the Alberta Skateboard Association. The
call was for me to go up to Calgary,
Alberta, Canada, to cover the Great
Canadian Open. I figured, "What the hey,
no problem." Before I knew it, I was
walking towards customs on the way into
Calgary. My first problem occurred right
away in the form of lost luggage. It would
be two days before I had clean clothes
again. Waiting for me on the other side of
customs were Brad Kasha and Claude
Reignier, top Canadian Slalom Ace.
They drove thru the city of Calgary,
which had somewhat of a skyline, but not
as much as S.F. We pulled into a gas
station and came upon the scene of an
accident moments after it happened. A van
went nuts and flipped. A fine example of
the locals driversmanship.
Once at Brad's house, I treated the
types to some unlocal and hard to find
refreshments, in the form of six
Mooseheads and six bottles of Coors.
They immediately craved and the water hit
the floor.
I was really hungry and wanted a "big
skarf right away. The food on the plane
was the shits and now I needed some real
good downables. "Kash" pulled into one of
the best skarfing establishments in the
city. C.B.'s Burgers. I was triple decked
and ready to go.
Next stop, the quarter-pipe at Crowchild
Manor. The scene going on here was
unbelievable. A big crowd, skaters and
punks, getting down to it and having an
enjoyable time. There were several rippers
sailing the high lines here. It was at this
place that I met "July '81" cover dude Mike
Pust and his sometimes co-hort Covey
Bauman. They were blasting away on a
wish and a dream, as they rolled in from
the drop-in platform, across the massive
flat bottom, up the transition, into
whichever form of contortion-air they
desired.
I was standing there awestruck. I'd
never seen a Canuck skate before. I
figured they'd be slaloming in their
driveway on a G.T., or they'd try to shred a
kickturn ramp with a 5-ply. But no, here
were some actual ramp shredders.
Practitioners of the vertical art.
The Crowchild Manor served as a youth
hotel of sorts. Rates being donation of all
empty returnable beer bottles, covering
ramp rent fees. Overlord of the Manor was
the mystical Yoda, the Calgarian Skate
Guru. Everybody, even long hairs, liked or
knew Yoda, knower of all.
"Whale is God" a voice cried behind me.
"Whale is God!" as Yoda approaches.
Yoda: That's Scurvy Dog.
Scurvy Dog: (yelling) Whale is God!
Journalist: Who is Whale?
Y: He's a big skinhead bass guitarist.
SD: Whale is God.
J: No, I am God.
The characters in this country are
numerous. On the streets there are a
variety of transients, from wayward Indians
to Eastern Canadian heavy metalers (still
wearing the high-soled shoes from the late
sixties, early seventies. I guess they're not
hip to Nike's, the style for the "IN" heavy
metalers of today).
I started hacking down my french fries
and observed the Canuck State of the Art.
Considering their isolation, the Calgarians
keep their par up to a dignified, on the edge
manner.
DIRECTION & PRODUCTION Brad Kasha, Monte Little
SOUNDTRACK BY: RIOT .303, THE STRETCH
MARKS, S.F.Y., STINGZILLDDA
On location in Calgary, Alberta, Canada,
at THE MANOR, The Calgarian Hotel & Bar. C.B.'s and Big Dicks.
IN Mofotovision
R
RESTRICTED
ROCKIN' RON
-STRETCH MARKS
COVEY BAUMAN-