I THINK I AM TOO HIGH
The Dark Reveals the Shape
of Things to Come
The night is cool and smooth.
The activity agenda calls for a
cacophony of comedy in near-
by Encinitas at the Full Moon
Cafe. Headlining is Dave Parker,
friend and "laugh-around-guy"
of the skaters. The boys attend
in force, providing a perfect jeer-
ing section for the opening act,
some hot number by the name
of Barbara Scott.
She spouts a bunch of cool
jokes to make everyone laugh, then tells a bunch of sex jokes that make
all the dudes hot and horny as hell. The smell of the guys' sexual perspira-
tion permeates the audience, until the situation becomes naughty and
tense, a scene that would put Hellraiser I and II to shame. Big Don Bostick
and his wonderful wife, Danielle, take it all in stride and keep a keen lookout
for the bouncers. Dave Parker comes on and there's no telling what to
expect. The skater crew are hungrier than a bunch of Louisiana ticks, and
twice as wet. It is more than obvious that the Huns want some comedy,
and they want it right now! Dave rips into the nearest tweakheaded, pseudo-
macho Southern Cal dude-guy, verbalizing on the guy's sexuality. Mr.
Unassuming Audience warns Mr. Dave, but the sound of about two dozen,
big, one-sheet-to-the-wind skate wranglers suddenly rising to their feet
and shoving their chairs back checks his retort. Thus the atmosphere of
the locals being out-numbered in their own ville makes for some extra-
pointed comedy. Laughs on the locals at their expense. The moment the
comic finishes his wicked tirade, the wild bunch assaults the haunts of
the sleepy little beach towns. In the pursuit of this strange yet necessary
nighttime diversion, a new trooper decides to join the V-8 powered motor-
cade, only he does so on his ten speed, clinging to the car doors of the
three staff cars at speeds reaching well past 60mph. The destination is
a little wild place in Solana Beach called the Belly Up Saloon. Half a block
before the BU, the cycler takes a dump and goes under the wheels of
one of the cars. He comes up slightly scratched, only to be arrested by
the cops for driving faster than is allowed for that sort of vehicle and for
clinging on to cars. Inside the pub, Big T assaults a pinball machine while
the others pursue more fluid diversions, such as scoping the pasture of
tables and scanning the handbills pinned to the various walls. One such
bill catches all of the groups attention: Hunter S. Thompson meets Mojo
Nixon. March 1. "That's tomorrow night," says one white boy, dread-headed
individual. An evening is planned.
Another Whip of Intensity Will Satisfy
Officially, each day's dramatic occurrences begin at
10:00 a.m. Ain't so good for those who finished the
previous evening at around four or five in the morning.
Friday is qualifying day for vert and street-a marathon
process. This land is bonafide hallowed ground. About
two stone throws and a drop kick from here is where
the Skateranch used to be. If the dirt and the palm trees
could talk, oh the tales they could tell. Stories of many
hardcore skate-travelers who had come from miles away
to feel the exhilarating magic of the skate paradise.
Those wayward nomads who would spend their nights
camped in the parking lot, or on the nearby beaches,
or in the HI-BALL game,
waiting for the next day's
skating to begin. Hard-
core locals who worked
at the park sometimes
HUNTER S.
THOMPSON
MEETS-
MOJO NIXON
THURSDAY MAR. 1.
BELLY UP TAVERN
IF THE
DIRT
COULD
TALK
Clockwise from Top
Left: Steve Salisian at a
hairy moment of indecision,
hovering high and out of control
before actually pulling this off to
bodyjar. Definitely one of the most ex-
citing moments of the day. Another ex-
tremely visual treat is Christian. Easily the
high-altitude master of all time, he screams
through this high and mighty straight-kneed Indy
nose-bone and into second place. Reese Simpson (no
relation to Bart) has extreme good fortune on the vertical
plane, earning a well-deserved third place. Injured much of the
time from some very big slams, Danny Way still put in some ad-
mirable air time. Barbara Scott and Dave Parker, the laugh
jockeys, demonstrate tongue dancing. Suspicious flyer.