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JERON WILSON
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So I rented this apartment in San Francisco for the Real team to inhabit. There was only one problem. The
landlady lived directly above it. Interesting. She also said only "family members" could visit. I figured I could work
with that one. The first man to move in was my wayward, blue-haired "brother" James Kelch. I think the landlady
actually had the hots for Kelch. She'd admire his new hair colors, he'd smile and converse. At this point she might
have even liked skateboarders. Right after James got settled, my twice-removed "uncle" Salman moved in. The
day after he arrived, he took a bic to his head. That's when the hallway conversations ceased. The landlady hid,
cowering behind door #1.
Once Salman was in, my "family" really started to grow. My "second cousin" Edward and my ugly "niece"
Shawnetta Mandoli moved in. My "fraternal twin" Kelly "the Bird" Klindt came, as did my "second brother's
cousin" Tony Ferguson. Then came my "nephew" Joey Bast, my "half-brother" Moses, and my mentally-challenged
"third nephew" Vogel. Things were getting scary. I could hear the fuse burning upstairs.
I'm pretty sure the arrival of my "illigitimate son born out of wedlock" Jeron Wilson, was the last straw. It was
all she could take. The gang of hired thugs came swiftly one morning while the sandman still sang. The beds were
upturned, keys taken and eviction notice served. The family reunion had to move on. Oh well, we set up some
new boards, got some clothes from Tommy and travelled on to the next adventure. Life is good.
-Jeff Klindt
REAL SKATEBOARDS. NOT WELCOME IN AT LEAST ONE SAN FRANCISCO APARTMENT
Real