If the sport/industry is to advance then
competitive formats and locations must
directly relate to the typical activities of the
everyday skater. Since the only valid judge
of high performance skating is a high
performance skater perhaps we should
finally cut out all of the organizational crap
and let the participants judge themselves.
As has been mentioned elsewhere, video
recording of the event could easily facilitate
a playback judging by the entrants.
Whenever this concept is mentioned, Invar-
iably some proponent of order as control
will mention the innate biased skaters
judging their own performances. I submit
that with money on the line, no rider would
be foolish enough to burn a fellow com-
petitor. Besides, the consensus vote of the
finalists wouldn't allow it, you can't jive,
particularly if it's live on Memorex.
A contest held at a quality ramp in the
middle of Amerika offers format ex-
perimentation. With 5 locals to judge a jam
elimination and jam final, plus free admis-
sion for spectators, what else could one ask
for?
ANOTHER NIGHT. SOMEPLACE
NEAR 6000 A-STREET.
Home of the head of the American
Nazi Party-Photo: Stocyk
us if we knew "Rick Flowerday's girlfriend"
Ann Steyr, a small boy asked if it were true
that Caballero was transferring to Pius-X to
attend school; was Steve physically observed
wearing proper clothing and masquerading
as a student in the back of the classroom?
Why did the big priest in the block suit want
to know if Gnitman and I were accomplices
of "Those skateboarders he had kicked off
campus?" The mood was definitely vicious,
Pius-X was thrashing the Yorkie Dukes by
thirty five points. On the last play of the
game some unfortunate Duke's jaw was
broken and he lay motionless at mid-field.
Football is a contact sport and it is played as
such in Lincoln. Off to the side, a genuine
Dukes of Hazzard reproduction General
Lee race car was being mercilessly attacked
with sledge hammers by grinning Plus-X
zealots. A knowing parent confided that the
car had been previously vandalized by
unknown skate aggressors. Of course it was
all in good fun, the Bolts won big, Losi
never showed, Staab and Tom were
kicked off the float, and our personal
spiritual advisor invited me and the
Gnit to attend class on Monday morn.
We would have gone, too, except that
we owned no suitable clothes. When
we next saw General Lee, there was
no way to stop the mayhem,
Juckily we were on our way to
the University of Nebraska
Father C., spiritual advisor to the down-
trodden masses, was eyeing me and the
Gnitman suspiciously. Apparently it was
the homecoming football game for the Plus
X Thunderbolts. I had witnessed a sticker
for the group, "Trendy Catholics" pasted
on a bumper. I asked Father C if he was a
trendy Catholic; Gnit then inquired as to
where the priests looked when they wanted
to find a good woman. We were there
because Alan Losi was last seen alone in a
van full of twenty female Pius-X Cheerlead-
ers. Another misplaced tale had it that
Kevin Staab and Tom Groholski (or was it
Nolder?) were riding on a float in the
homecoming game. Spirit girls kept asking
to attend a big freestyle session held
in Coach Tom Osborne's gigantic,
fantastically appointed weight training
room. Prolonged contact with the Duke's
car could have been hazardous to your
health, not to mention your legal status.
The motto of the state of Nebraska is,
"Equality before the law." The official
flower is the Goldenrod. Lincoln is the state
capitol, and the massive capitol building
took thousands of workers ten years to hand
shape it out of Indiana limestone. The soil is
exceptionally fertile and buffalo and Amer-
ican Indians once localized the place.
Coronado's expedition reached Nebraska in
1541, and Buffalo Bill Cody used to have his
saddles crafted down in Lincoln at the H.B.
Brands store. The basic vibe is deep history.
Local politics are reputed to be the most
liberal in the state, perhaps harking back to
the 1870's and 80s when radical reform
political groups, such as the Grange and
Populists, were very much in evidence. In
Lincoln, college football is both big business
and ersatz religion. This year the Big Red
Cornhuskers were again rated as the
number one team. On game day downtown
Lincoln is a massive wall of red clad flesh,
as thousands of Husker-crazed fans party.
Most of the local gigs are booked out at
the Brickyard, which is conveniently located
across from a Lincoln P.D. sub-station. The
police are an obvious presence in general,
Gator again. Christian
and partial assemblage of
loyal followers.
-Photos: Mo.
although Jeff Newton says some of them are
"quite civil." The townspeople are a courte-
ous lot and seemed tolerant towards some of
the more eccentric episodes known to occur
around traveling pro-skateboarders. Be-
tween the University bettys and indigenous
attractive local girls, a young man could
keep his after-skate sessions "co-ed."
There are focal zines, Tiki Ari, Apathetic
Injection, Local skate suppliers Bouwens,
(3900 No.27 St.) and Flowerday (825 Eastridge
Dr.), keep the troops armed and dangerous.
The Melee ramp, located behind the Flowerday)
home, and Bouwens ramp are two main
skate attractions. For size: the Melee is 10
feet tall, 16 feet wide with a good radial
transition. The Bouwens ramp is 8' on one
side and 7' on the other; all in all, both offer
much fun and potential challenge. Other
prime Lincoln skate spots include the
Capitol (good drop offs all around it from
sculpture pedestals, etc., and prime mosaic
floor freestyle area), East Hills banks (fun,
fast), Pier 1 banks (several rad banked
concourses and adjacent loading docks
etc.), The Ice Pond (a big oval, with built-in
channel and decent transitional curb,
acid drops are likely off
brick structure),
nearby
Echo Park, East O, Happy Chef (all decent
environments for variable fun), Fall Creek
hill and the 70th/Cheney hill (good downhill
runs, great slide and hert territory, the
Union Pacific terminal (good slanted cargo
ramps, docks, rail slides, etc), and, of
course, the interior of the Brickyard for
thrash zone sessioning.
(right)McGill was dam
good that day, damn
good.
-Photo: Mo.
The truck.-Photo: Mo
I suppose it could be stated there is
something for everyone in Lincoln. There is
an off fusion of different sorts, at time
opposites conflict (avoid legions of longer
haired, truck-driving, beer-soaked bruisers
out for blood on cruise night). At other time
seemingly disparate poles quietly coexist.
(How else can you explain the presence of an
antique shop featuring seven nazi helmets in
its window display being just a block from
that venerable shrine to pigskin prowess,
The Big Red Shop?)
Night one. The boys are back in town and
pent-up energies are liberated in true lizard
lounge style. Steadham and Christ are
holding court in a shave handled, lowered,
full-mooned, Chevy truck. Mofo, Billy an
Neil are street raging. Gator, Lester,
Tracker Larry, Staab, Wilkes, Miller and
assorted passers-by make general misuse o
the motel complex (Kasai's back flips are
very hard on motel bed springs). Losi's out
running up his weekend total. Mr. Gnit is
huddled in a downtown phone booth making
suspicious-sounding collect calls. Mountain
and Malha are closing in on pyrotechnic
heaven. The word from Hollywood is that
Peralta is motoring to the aeroport direct
from the set of a Kodak T.V. commercial he
is working on. Johnson, Phillips, Gibson
and Newton are being your basic incarna-
tion of the chainsaw massacre. McGill is
overheard telling Catholic girls of his deep
devotion to the faith. Nolder and Groholski
are very much present and both appear
ready for rampaging. Caballero departs for
a gig in Omaha.
Cruising in the Eggmobile, with Eggs at
the wheel (Mr. Eggy's qualifications as a
motormaniac is indisputable), after hearing
out tale of the nazi helmet store, we're on our
way at 55/plus/plus/plus to an undisclosed
location. As the great Olds slides to a stop,
the Eggman announces that we're in the
driveway of the "head Nazi's house." My
military attache, Lance Mountain, finally
manages to snatch the complete information
from the deep confines of Egg's cranium.
Apparently this nondescript
29