BONEITE XT
HARDROCK MAPLE
BUILT FOR ABUSE
TOUGH ENOUGH
NO SISSY STUFF
POWELL PERALTA
CODE NAME:
JULIO
discotheque. The "Le Bain Douche"
veterans rave about being where all socialite
Paris glamour models hang out, how they
spent their time popping their eyes back into
their sockets and collecting their drooling
tongues up off the floor. Next day, after al
"Le Bain Douche" sunrise night, there is
talk among the group about the bricks at
Les Juilliottes Metro stop.
I accompany them on what is to turn into
an interesting journey through the Parist
Metro. By loudly clattering their skates down
the metro steps, riding through the maze
of tunnels and then popping up onto a
bench next to a sleeping bum, the group
make their prescence no secret.
After an hour's worth of Metro stops and
recklessly corrosive behavior, the group
emerges to an enormous bricked landscape
surrounded by an outdoor mall. The group
stands transfixed, resembling five-year olds
seeing Disneyland for the first time.
The bricks are sculpted into sweeping,
crescent-shaped swells (like the ocean).
The young men's interpretation of the ter-
rain defies description (refer to prints and
transparencies furnished with report). The
natives, awestruck, stop to witness the
mystical interpretation of this brick
menagerie; they had no idea of its potential.
After the "session" (as the group kept
referring to any time they spend riding) din-
ner was consumed in a Parisian-Mexican
restaurant. Not even Mexican enough to
make a Mexican homesick. No tortillas.
Next day, the ones named Roskopp,
Mountain, Caballero and the Gonz depart
for West Germany to participate in some
sort of competitive festivity. The rest remain
in Paris for another two days before travel-
ling south to Bourges, a small French city,
which, as the skateboarders put it,
767
EVOUS AVE
TOUT!
са
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possesses a "half-pipe." At first I interpret
this jargon as some kind of code, but I learn
that it is only a man-made structure for
practicing their forte.
The next day the remaining four decide
to try and find Notre Dame Cathedral.
Built on the lle de la Cite, Notre Dame
Cathedral could be described as the
ultimate dead center of Paris. Over the cent-
uries Paris developed in concentric circles
around this point. The site has been a place
of worship for nearly two thousand years,
from Gallic and Roman gods to present day
Catholic religion.
We travel down Avenue des Champs,
past the Obelisk (a tall stone spike covered.
with hieroglyphics that Napoleon stole from
Egypt), past the Louvre, across the Seine
to the front of the Cathedral. Immediately,
the one they call Christ begins rolling.
around, gesticulating like a mating peacock
in the large, stone courtyard. Handsomely
arching nose wheelies, he wows an endless
sea of sightseers.
A few yards away a series of what they
call "handplants" is performed by Gator. At
this location the group acquires a new
member, Pat Ngoho, a close friend of Christ.
He's been in Paris for two weeks already
and claims to be of Hawaiian descent. My
instincts tell me he's hardcore V.C.
A freeform modern dance-like promen-
ade occurs. After a multitude of theatrically
entertaining stunts, the group enters Notre
Dame. Without trying, the group causes
their first significantly large disturbance of
the trip. Not ten paces into the holy place,
Christ, stunned, loudly says, "Shit, look at
the big crucifix, it must be ancient.I gotta
get a picture of this." He drops his
skateboard to the floor and the echoes
reverberated like retarded thunder inside
the cavernous cathedral,
Instantly half of the group is reprimand-
ed for wearing hats inside a sacred place.
The rest are only reprimanded for being
bare-chested or for wearing t-shirts with
Invery
violent scenes on them, including skulls.
Suddenly, the spooky sounds of one of
the biggest pipe organs in the world starts
doing the Phantom of the Opera trip, scar-
ing the skateboarders back out into the
courtyard. All except Mr. Steele and myself.
Remaining for a few more moments, taking
in the ghastly sounds, we admire a beauti-
fully carved marble statue of the Virgin Mary
holding the rug rat Christ child, standing just
beyond a sea of prayer candles. Neither of
us utter a sound, we simultaneously step
up and light a candle each, then exit. When
I ask Steele what his candle was for, he
slowly says, "Just in case."
BOURGES, FRANCE
After the three hour train ride to Bourges,
it becomes evident that this tour is "loosely
structured." Everyone follows Steele's lead,
which seems to be based on whim, hearsay
and haphazard instinct. Upon arriving in
Bourges, the group looks to Steel for import-
ant clues to the next move. He mutters, "Dis
way," and walks to the glass-doored exit. ►
Above: Powering off an edgy rock 'n roll,
Christain looms over the various tags left by
our rampaging nomads on the Bourges Ramp
Left: Averaging forty noises every thirty
seconds, louder than a Bronx cheer, the
complete travelling force involved in securing
an area of a Parts Metro loading platform.
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