40
ENDLESS
GRIM
or the Last Ride,
or whatever...
By Don or Somethin'
I dunno. Waking up now, it's hard
to believe that we played last nite.
Waking up is good. It means two
things: First, that I'm still alive, and
second, it means that I finally went
to sleep.
Our tour bus has the uncanny
ability to launch people and objects
into six-foot backside airs' onto
other people, seats, and what have
you. So here we are, driving in
Albuquerque, but the tour officially
started last nite....
COTTONWOOD, AZ.
The gig last night at Cottonwood
was a good gig, 'cuz the people who
had the party had a ramp built that
day for the occasion. Now that's 'Air
Mobile'! It turned out being a weird
show, as our bus wasted a fan belt
on the way and according to mem-
bers of the bus crew (% of the band
got separate rides from Phoenix
cuz it's close), a guy in a security
truck drove up outta nowhere, got
out and offered, "So you guys need
a belt?" Apparently the guy had a
belt that was the perfect size, and
sold them one for twenty bucks. As
he left, he said he was one of Jerry
Falwell's followers, and said that
they (JFA) looked like good people
(JFA it fits). Back at the party, the
other % of the band partied and
skated the ramp with the Stuntman.
We traded off on Stuntman's 'Duane'
model 'cuz most of our boards were
still in the bus. I immediately lost
Brian's board into the crowd, taking
out some kid. Weird nite. The bus
came and we finally played at about
1a.m., to about twenty people, with
no vocals. Then we felt the dreaded,
aerial sleeps, which brings us to...
ALBUQUERQUE, N.M.
Albuquerque is a bitch to spell.
Brian and I went with 'Jerry's Kids'
to a cool ditch. The ditch and the
skating were hot, but the bus and
my camera were elsewhere. Retum-
ing to the house, just as the bus
pulls up, we decide to eat and shoot
the hill that the house was on. We
were going to go to sound-check
and then to Jerry's Kids' halfpipe
(which is supposed to be really
cool). We were also going to have a
downhill streetrace, to see which
bands' singer was the fastest. No
hassles, no vibes, just skating and
fun. (Wanna-bee skaters who have
to protect their skaterock images
can get quite upset sometimes
when a challenge arises.) Well, we
would've raced, but it raiged.
The gig was cool, that is until
Brian got popped on the dance floor
and was incoherent for a while. We
got him checked out at the local
emergency room, regrouped, and
headed out to...
EL PASO, TX.
The very instant I opened my
eyes, someone informed me: "You
look fucked-so I went back to
sleep. First off we had to buy a
water pump and some propane (for
cooking). The place for the show is
cool, kinda like a gutted warehouse,
with tons of grafts. We, of course,
added to the existing smear with
pipe pasting attacks. Our mechanic
installed the water pump (no prob),
while we acid-dropped a loading
dock and street-skated. The show
was fun, we met the locals and had
a good time (it rained here too).
SAN ANTONIO, TX.
On the way we ran out of gas, I
guess somebody spaced (all I do is
sleep and bitch). Our mechanic
flagged down some lady-trucker's
semi, who took him to get gas. We
made it to San Antonio (where's the
Alamo?) and stayed at the "Butthole
Surfers house. Their studio is in a
prime location, at the bottom of a
winding hill (which Brian and me
assaulted) with easy access to a
nearby pool and even a 7-11. It was
here we met Brad (Big Boy's roadie).
He took us to a cool ditch situated
right between two interstates. You
can't skate by the freeways in
California. The Texans on the
freeways were moving too fast to
bum on us, which is kind of appro-
priate because we're usually moving
too fast to deal with most of them
anyway. The club was situated at
the site of the '68 World's Fair. It
kinda looked like a doomsday
Disneyland (uncrowded), with rides
and everything. The show was fun
and, of course, the Big Boys ripped
HOUSTON, TX.
Texas is hard to write about. It's
bigger than a lot of countries, so
everything is super far apart The
locals more than make up for the i
drive by being super cool. Some of
the nicest people live in Texas, and
despite its relatively large size,
sports very few assholes. We pulled
into Houston about 3 p.m. and
located the Art Warehouse, which
was situated near some freeway
bridges.
JFA and Armageddon car. San Antonio, TX
We knew two things pulling into
Houston: First, that the humidity
kills! (it's like breathing hot shower-
air constantly), and second, the
cops are burly when they want to be
(sound familiar?). In front of the club
was a heavily armored Chevy
"Armageddon Car" piece of art. This
car had twin 50s and a 105mm
cannon on the hood. The windows
were iron louvres and there was a
T.V. monitor inside. Now, it's official
"JFA" issue (we stickered it in
strategic places). Oh yeah, it also
had tank treads and tracks instead
of wheels. Burly car.
The show was great and real
sweaty. Afterwards me, Bam and
Brian (Brain Creature) split with Jeff
Newton (Zorlac, henceforth referred
to as Mytron), to hit the beach anda
halfpipe at Galveston. Galveston
looks like any other beach city
except it was fiat, flat, flat (no.
waves). The halfpipe we skated
was cool. It was 24 wide, split-level
on one side and a channel on the
other. The galvanized-steel-pipe-
coping ground great. These Texans
have the right idea, I'm sick of little
'ramp geeks' who take and use
coping off of rideable pools for their
ramps. That's sacrificing the source
for a cheap imitation.
AUSTIN, TX.
We made it to Austin in time to
party at the 'Oaf House' with the Big
Boys and assorted others. The next
day Mytron took us, the Big Boys,
and a few other Texans to this cool
12 deep banked pool. Mytron, in his
infinite wisdom, unloaded my pads
and camera the nite before, so I had
neither. We had the intense heat
stroke session, 3-wall grinding this
massive pool in the Austin hills. We
returned to the Oaf house in time for
a raging barbecue with all the
trimmings (even beer and waterme-
lon). The show with the Big Boys
was, as expected, a lot of fun.
DALLAS, TX.
After the Austin show, me, Brian
and Bam scammed a ride off Mytron
(Newton) to Dallas so we could
skate more and avoid another night
of the dreaded 'aerial sleep' that the
tour bus is infamous for. Monday,
we skated Pfleugerville with tons of
Texans, Marginal Man (from D.C.).
Paul Schmitt, and of course the Big
Boys. Chris' brother was pulling the
hairy rock 'n' roll sliders over the
hole at the end. After another fun
Texas session, we said goodbye to
those who weren't going, and
departed with Mytron for Dallas,
The second we hit Dallas, we
went and skated the 'Clown Ramp
(multi-colored fiberglass) with a few
locals. The locals blasted well and
honed lofty lines while the Mytron,
JFA contingent raged a few tipped-
out-frontsides (going backwards
ruins your bearings). Lots of skaters
at the show, quite a few people
considering it was Monday nite. We
were invited to stay and skate the
massive Dallas garages but we had
miles to do (destination: Kansas
City), and bid farewell to the much
looked-forward-to Texas section of
our tour. Special thanx to Jeff Zorlac
Newton (for the 1000 miles we put
on your truck) and the mighty Zorlac
women for their hospitality (are they
team status?).
KANSAS CITY, MO.
Although I don't remember
waking up in Kansas city, I'm sure I
did. The ride from Dallas was way
gnarly. It rained hard. We pulled up
in K.C., Mo. into a loft sort of thing
with a few locals and DRI (who
would soon depart for Lincoln,
Nebraska). I pushed off some
downhill sidewalk carves looking for
a place to eat. When I returned we
left for the "Fool Killer," which was
Cottonwood, AZ.
Tim Kerr. Pflugerville, TX
the place we were playing at (The
Faction was playing there Friday). It
was another sticky, sweaty show
due to the humidity, but we had fun
and the crowd seemed to like it. We
were going to skate a local halfpipe
but due to time constraints, plus the
fact that BMXers burned part of the
deck and put a hole in the ramp, we
missed out.
ST. LOUIS, MO.
The only thing I know about St.,
Louis is, it has a big metal arch-
thing. We pulled up to a guy's house
from a local band (White somethin)
and were pleased to find an 8 wide,
halfpipe in his backyard. We made
some short tapes of Brian skating
(we have an upcoming video
documentary), took showers and
headed for the club. Once again.
everybody had fun at the show,
except for a few belligerent real live
Nazis. That's the same b.s. as the
KKK and is not funny. We're into
freedom (for everybody), not fas-
cism or other "drawing-lines" types
of B.S.
BLOOMINGTON, IN.
Just like St. Louis, we had never
been to Bloomington, Indiana
before, so it's all new. First stop, the
much needed laundromat session.
After all of those humid gigs and
skate sessions, our clothes reeked.
A guy named Jeff, who used to live
in Az., met us at the laundromat and
took us to the club. From there the
band split with Jeff to a 9' quarter
pipe situated in the corner of a
public basketball court. Me, Brian
and a couple of locals blasted a few
lines and Brian took a pretty harsh
beef, but got up instantly. We went
back to the club, then went skating
again. I just can't get into standing
around and acting like a band. I'd
rather go skating. If it was between
a board and a record, I'd take the
board 'cuz the lines are already
drawn on the record, and the board
is limitless.
Bloomington, Ind. sports some
cool hills and at least one cool
parking garage (which we as-
saulted). It was 6-story with two
elevators, and conveniently, no bust
(something happened across the
street, so all the cops and firemen in
the area showed up there). Every
body was too busy to bother us. The
show was cool. It's Friday today,
and I'm glad we've got a day off (we
play almost every nite, 20 straight
after this!)
In case you tuned in just now, we
are 2 weeks into an epic 8 week JFA
World Tour. At this very moment: our
heroes (7) are seated in a Nashville
truckstop waiting for a little grub.
Digressing for a moment, we had e
day off on Friday in Bloomington.
That show went well considering we
played directly in front of a police
station. Our day off was O.K., the
police were looking for about the
town's teen population and of our
band. Apparently our show inspired
the locals to go out and paint the
town (literally) and it seems Bam
Bam was wanted for a 'downhill-
chicken-session' with cars on the
main street. Brian, on the other
hand, played "Death and Destruc-
tion on the University's grand
piano, then threw all of the lightbulbs,
in the Student Union into the fire
place. The band then regrouped for
some "salad bowl sessioning down
this gnarly grass hill.
To make a long story short, when
the cops picked up the local kids for
vandalism, the survivors informed
us we were had too. Like true
skaters, me and Brian laid low with
Bob at the cool 6 story parking
San Antonio, TX.
Brian Memphis, TN
garage, skating lil dark. We then
grabbed the bus from in front of the
police station and headed for
Cincinnati
CINCINNATTI
Although the show was basically
a Cincinnatti show, it was held in
Newport, Kentucky. Me and Brian
went for the basic "streetskate-look-
for-food" session (where I sat to
write this). We went to a party
situated on some "glass street
downhill, and finally hit the road for
Nashville. So here we are today-
and my food still isn't ready
NASHVILLE, TN.
Nashville is Nashville, that's all I
can say never did see the Grand
Ole Opry (Country music centennial
mecca), or another skater. We hung
out in the park for a while, so me and
Brian ground a few curbs, and took
in some scenery. Later at the club I
ground this cool bank (for those with
the cool street wheels) in front of a
Mercedes dealer. Sometimes it's
hard to keep a camera with me 'cuz
It's bulk. Some of the coolest skating
is just getting from point A to point B,
grinding and hopping everything in
sight. The whole thing is a matter of
style, speed and lines. There's no
working on stuff over and over, or
stopping. That's redundant.
Skaters showed up later at the
show from a number of states, but it
was show time by then. After the
show, Brian (severely spinning)
braved a drunken downhill and
Jalmost shot through a store window
at a surprise "T" intersection (he
never looks). "Skate drunk or crawl
home."
MEMPHIS, TN.
Memphis, TN was where "The
King lived. They parked his jet in
the front yard and charge you to see
his bed, while dazzling you with