WHY THEY DON'T SELL
POLYESTER LEISURE SUITS
IN AMERICAN SAMOA
By LowBoy
Sometime in the past George Orwell
penned a curious epic entitled 1984.
Somewhere in early 1984 (the year), there
was a surf/skate "industry" trade show.
Somehow, after having attended the show
and having read the Cliff notes on the
book...
Trade shows are merchandizing
endeavors where manufacturers, dis-
tributors, dealers, retailers, et. al., gather to
conduct business. New lines are intro-
duced, orders are placed, stories are
related, the truth is self-evident and in
some quarters lines are demonstrated to
be the basis of modern salesmanship.
When you inject high voltage skate types i
into this hype-laden atmosphere there are
bound to be some interesting encounters.
At this particular exposition the following
were observed: Mad-dog and Miss Pegg
debating modern morality, Lumberbaron
Dick Novak telling how when shopping for
deck wood he "just buys the whole forest,"
manufacturing magnates Mr. P and Mr. D.
intimately discussing the possibility of the
"collapse of distribution," legions of
scantily-clad working girls modeling the
latest in swimming non-attire, a very
undercover Larry Gordon intensely
pursuing his domain, K.T. and Potatoehead
were seen passing untouched through the
hot air and stale breezes of commerce.
McGill was personally issuing cease and
desist orders to T-shirt pirates, Blender
was overheard muttering, "this just isn't
real, this just isn't real," Russ Howell
turned up in the S. Peralta booth with a
videotape of he and Stacy from 1956,
Waldo Autrey revealed himself to be a
hairstylist as did Brad 'Jose' Bowman, Mr.
T. Sims was viewed promoting snowboards
despite the fact it was out of season, the
Varibunch were just returning from their
Taiwan tour, Skateboarder magazine
announced its return and the spirit of
Chuck Dent danced a mean one-legged jig
right through the plate glass window in the
hospitality suite. Life being what it is,
business went on as usual. Skateboarding
(the business) was a much-discussed
topic. At a well known companies booth
Mr. Boot replays a tape recording with a
too typical customer: Customer, "I sell
bikes and I hear skateboarding is hot." Mr.
Boot, "It's fun to do..." Customer, "Hey
buddy, cut the crap; I want to sell, just send
me a few lowbuck assemblies I can move
right away, you see I just want to sell while
it's hot, I'm not interested in turning my
shop into a hangout for skateboarders...
do you know where I'm coming from?" Mr.
Boot, "I think I get the picture. Privately Mr.
Boot relates that the fastbuck artists were
descending in famished packs. The
consensus for skateboarding (the busi-
ness) is bombs away, fortunately this
article deals with skateboarding (the
activity) and its diverse permutations.
36
BOM'S
ON DOPE,
WHITE PUNKS
THUMPER
MV
HOMEB
THE STAR'S CAR
High in the hills of Beverly. Swimming
pools and movie stars. Move over Jethro...
atop a certain mountain sits this perfect
streetstyle surfaced road. Also occupying
this same territorial expanse is the multi-
million dollar estate of one of Hollywood-
land's most famous actresses. It doesn't
matter to the renegade band of local street
riders that the well skate-suited downhill
road can also be viewed as the entrance-
way to this matron's movie manor. The
electronic gates, guard dogs, computer
security system, TV. surveillance units and
renta-cops are all equally irrelevant to the
skaters. They habitually come to the
mountaintop to skate; and since they break
no rational laws they don't ever apologize
to anyone. After all, they reason, isn't the
pursuit of happiness one of our constitu-
tionally guaranteed rights? Such attitudes
have caused movie mamma much grief;
hundreds of times she and her agents
have chased the skate types away only to
have them return. One day after tiring of
this futility the star devised a brilliant
strategem, she called her friends at the film
studio and promptly ordered up a genuine
regulation motion picture prop police car.
Next, this bogus mobile was cleverly
concealed on the aforementioned road to
her home. Presto, no more problem, now
everyone involved is happy. The movie
star rests contentedly knowing that her
guard car is always at work creating the
illusion of police presence. The skate rats
are equally ecstatic since they can now
launch innumerable new maneuvers off
the ever present cop car.
THE SPONSOR
A shapeless shadowy shameless
presence rolls down the sidewalk just off
the nickle. On Fifth and San Pedro Streets
in old L.A. no one asks questions, for in this
environment no one ever has a past.
Groups of men congregate here for
unknown and unrevealed reasons.
They exist on the frayed edges of
society by choice and chance. For their
efforts society has labeled them with
dubious labels such as transients, lay-
abouts, drunks, bums, bagmen, catfish
and wino. The hero of this tale is a typically
scruffy mid-elderly male who is riding an
old obsolete skateboard. His mates on the
nickle call him "Rollo" in obvious reference
to his boardsmanship. Now, a lot of people
Stacy and new talent, "Rollo."
never bother to talk to these outcasts.
figuring that they have nothing to say.
Stacy Peralta, one recent afternoon, was
driving by when he noticed Rollo, and
realized there was something hauntingly
familiar about him. Closer inspection
revealed that Rollo was equipped with a
vintage warptail 2, the old S.P. signature
model from a far removed bygone era.
Fully curious, Peralta asked Rollo how he
liked it and was treated to a complete
discourse on applied physics. Stacy was
so taken with Rollo's knowledge of and
devotion to the sport that he immediately
sponsored the man to a set of modern
state-of-the-art wheels. There is no truth to
the rumor that Rollo will enter the CASL
Series.
37