PLANTS the STREET
The blackness won't
T
come off. After scrub-
bing and scouring
"pruned" hands, the
flesh reddens, but the
black still clings. How
did it get there? Only a
skater would know. ►
Shiny, tall, square and formidable,
they stand in rows of one hundred,
disappearing into the horizon. Each
contains a highly sophisticated com-
puter system which supports millions
of lives. Lives, as they are known,
exist in the form of thoughts and
memories of the last fuw million
years, back to the first days of EDIS
(Electrolife Data Input System).
Mankind solved overpopulation and
hunger by commiting society to
memory. The physical being no
longer exists and death is obsolete.
An isolation scan of an EDIS
reviews some pulses in progress.
Equivalent to a young boy, the newer
Electrolife appears to be having a
discussion with an ancient elder.
"I remember the blackness," the
ancient one said. "Two million years
ago, in 1987, we used to get the black
all over our hands."
"Tell me about hands again," the
young EDIS asked. "Where did the
stains come from?" He opened a file
and readied for another great story
about 1987.
"When I was a boy, I used to do
something called, 'riding a
skateboard. A skateboard was a
device consisting of four small
wheels connected to a piece of wood.
To ride it, you'd stand on the wooden
platform and push with one foot to
gain velocity and travel across the
abundance of smooth-surfaced ter-
rain that existed back then. I'd roll
along and 'DAT!' with a snap of the
tail ricochet the board off the earth.
With one hand, I'd reach out and
catch the flying roller-wood and firmly
plant my other hand onto the
abrasive, gravel-filled, tar riding sur-
face. Something called blacktop, or
asphalt and known to most as street.
Automotive transporting vehicles
travelled on this surface coating it
with petroleum oil, dirt, grime and
residue from their rubber tires.
"Supported on the one hand, I'd
aim my feet skyward, stretching.
reaching, obtaining the much
sought-after adrenalin rush. Eagerly,
the black-top transferred it's parasitic
color onto the skin of my hand while
I balanced and stalled before return-
ing to the earth. A street-plant," the
ancient one said.
"There were other names and
variations for it; street-vert, ho-ho, ha-
ha, egg. switcheroo, rocket-plant,
etc." On and on the memory of the
elder poured onto the fresh young
disk. "The annoying stains that
needed to be scrubbed were
from...street-plants."
Facing page: Presented in its truest
form, the handplant has become one
of the most utilized elements in
skateboarding. Right: Streetplant artist
Jim Thiebaud demonstrates a hand-
walking ho-ho plant across a kicked
back brigade bro, Tommy Guerrero.
Photos by Bryce Kanights.