CLOSURE
I
haven't been sleeping lately. I guess
you could say I have a lot on my
mind. It's kinda funny. Just when
you
think you're gonna work it out, things
have a funny way of going kittiwumpus.
The gist of this story should be start-
ed somewhere, I guess. It goes back to
when you owe somebody and tell
somebody you're going to do some-
thing, you gotta do it, no matter what. I
worked with Phil for about nine months,
and in that time we had pretty intense
discussions about where we like to
skate, what we like to do, ultimate spots
or tricks, just the shit that usual skater
people talk about. He always asked me
about Australia, and I said, "You know,
you just gotta go." And I made him a
promise that I would take him there. It's
kinda funny, but it's the way things
work. I don't know where all you people
have been, but Phil died last summer.
And it kind of made me say to myself
that I had to take him there to make this
thing close for myself, you know, bring
it to a head. I know that he would do the
same for me. I had his board, some of
his tapes, some knickknacks and stuff
he'd left around the office, and I packed
up my shit and I went to Australia.
So, I'd heard that they'd built some
new parks out there, and we got there
at the crack of dawn; it was raining,
kinda rough. We drove to Woolongong
in the pouring rain. Then we drove to
Ulladulla, which is one of the new parks
out there, pretty sweet. Nice bowls and
shit. It was raining and wet.
The summer before last we went to
Europe with Phil and we had a sick
bonfire at Livingston up in Scotland.
We camped out there; I can still see
the look on his face, how happy he
was that he was with us, and we were
just rooting around in the streets,
looking for shit to burn. It was hilari-
ous. People would come back with
cardboard boxes or benches or
pieces of wood that they'd stolen
from job sites and shit. We had this
fire going all night long because it
I was as cold as a witch's heart out
there. In the morning we all woke
up early-got to get grinding, you
know.
Anyway, while at Ulladulla, and I
felt it only appropriate that we do
the same for Phil. We had a bonfire
for him, and threw a bunch of our
Locals
boards into the fire and threw his board into the fire,
some pictures of him, and some AC/DC tapes. I could-
n't have thought of any better way to give him the props
that the man deserved.
We camped out that night and it
rained on us again. We got up in the
morning and went back to Sydney,
and...I don't know. The trip started
kind of quickly enough, you know,
because I made the trip in my mind,
that I was gonna go. Everybody was
telling me that this trip was a jinx.
Curtis told me, "I just don't got a
good feeling about this one," and I
was like, "All right, well, I'll see you
later." Windy told me, "You don't
have to go; I have a bad feeling."
And I was just like, "I'm going." You
know, macho dude that I am. Sad
luck for me. We get to Sydney, about
noon, and we go to a park. This old,
gnarly, no flatbottom pit. The call
was on for the roll-in, taking a few
out doing it I guess; I guess I owe it
on this one. I rolled in and put myself
in the hospital. I fractured my rib, my
wrist, my skull; I was unconscious for
a couple of hours. Woke up in the
hospital, trying to deal with the fuck-
ing brain fluid that worked its way
around my skull. I was trapped in
Tribute
Ditch of Doom
Fairy Meadow
Mona Vale
"I can still see
the look on his face,
how happy he was"
a prescribed prison by drugs and shit and I have no idea where they
came up with this stuff. Turns out I bruised my brain and if I had an
aneurysm or some shit while I slept I could die. I felt kind of awkward,
but here I was paying tribute to a friend and everybody told me that it
was a bag, but I had to do it. Locked myself up and put it in the hospi-
tal. Crazy feeling. I stayed down for ten days while the boys went
around looking for spots. In the hospital, I did a lot of thinking about
what I have and what I've done and how great it feels to be alive. Just
to say to yourself, to stand alone and say, "Yeah." It's a great feeling.
But like I said it doesn't feel that great when you're lying in a bed in a
hospital with a bunch of people who have suffered through lawn acci-
dents or the tragedies of life. The doc told me I couldn't leave for two
weeks and that I shouldn't fly home. I was tired of their gig and their
prescribed hell, taking their drugs, injections, shots, Dilantin-whatev-
er the hell they were cookin' up juiced me pretty hard. I said, "Well, I'm
gonna cut out," and I got on an airplane and I flew home. I got home
and tried to go back to work, but I could tell that the medicines and the
prescriptions that they'd given me had pulled a double whammy on my
brain. And I was not thinking at all in the proper facilities that I'm used
to and accustomed to, and I selfishly took my pain out on the people
who love me. And for that I'm truly sorry.
What I came to realize, and I told Luke just two days after I came
back, is that I'm over the shock of Phil dying, and I guess the crazi-
est thing now is that I just miss him. I miss when he'd come into the
office and say, "I just got a parking ticket," or something stupid like
that. It's just life's little speed bumps. They come at you and you
gotta dodge the fastballs, the curves, the sliders, and eventually
maybe you get to retire to a cushy little place in the country. But
as for me, I can honestly say that I couldn't do it any other way.
-Jake Phelps
Ulladulla
Manly
28736
36 THRASHER
Phil Shao
8-25
Spud
37