PUB
Nothing on this Earth that man or nature can create
or destroy will prevent the skaters from skating.
Previous Page: Tommy Guerrero and Micke Reyes
dominate a surrealistic industrial landscape.
Clockwise from Above: Jim Thiebaud ollies a quake-
altered wheelchair access ramp. Freeway devastation.
Photos: Bryce Kanights. Barbee, Guerrero, Reyes and
Dettman: possible prediction for the not-so-distant
future? You decide. Photo: Kevin Thatcher. Mother
Nature's slappy. Side view of Thiebaud's concrete
springboard. Photos: Bryce Kanights.
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the walls. I believed that if I scraped hard enough at the foundations I would provide
myself with a comfortable existence, and the walls would eventually weaken and crumble.
But those I scoffed at now look down from their perches and bathe in the tonic of smug
comfort. They laugh every time I scratch a new crack because they know my efforts
are fueled by their run-off. They laugh harder when I see the walls shake because
they know it's just reverberations from their new construction. And they laugh hardest
when they realize that even if the walls do crumble, I'll be crushed beneath them.
my problem isn't walls at all, it's boxes. I can't get away from
boxes. I wake up on bare box springs, wash in my shower stall,
pour cereal from a box while locked on to TV, crawl through traffic ('don't block the
box') in an electric rectangle to a huge block of an office building, ride to my level in
an elevator, enter my section, walk to my partitioned quadrant and turn on the CRT
cube I'll fill with numbers for the rest of the day, every day. Why did I say walls? Hah!
I wish walls were my problem. At least you can climb walls or dig under (Continued on page 62)
ACTUALLY
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