94 THRASHER
skated and lurked for the day, but
he never showed.
I had heard Tucson was a good
place and had lots of ditches. Maybe
Johnny Rad was there, singing songs
on the ditch bank while dudes were
skating. I went for it.
The first night in Tucson I met
Steve Valdez, the owner of Starr.
skate shop. He
took me out to a
bar where bands.
The following few days were
filled with skating and pursuing
the Rad Man mission. I met up.
with Aaron Suski and his friends at
the Dodge house; they rule, and
we jammed music until 5 AM. I
kept thinking Johnny Rad would
walk in at any second, grab the
microphone, and start singing, but
Was he just hiding out at this pool?
Nope, it was just Albert, the local
lurker. Or was it?
There was another park that I
wanted to check out in
Albuquerque, New Mexico, so I
did. It was crazy. Ten hours of
straight desert by yourself
can do a number on your
"Ten hours of straight desert by
yourself can do a number on your brain"
played in hopes of getting rad.
The band couldn't even touch
Johnny Rad's band; they sucked. I
watched this funny tambourine
player bang his musical device
and then I spotted a girl. The wild
goose chase ended with me sleep-
ing in my truck in front of her
house. Dissed.
no luck.
I met up with another dude,
Doug Switalski, who had a pool
lined up. Of course! A pool, that's
where Johnny is. We showed up
and this older bum dude was sit-
ting there with a beard and bags.
He was just staring at the pool and
I was happy to see us. Was it him?
brain. Take away the
beauty, and it is insanity.
Just when I was getting to the
point where every cactus made
out an image of Johnny Rad, I
reached Albuquerque.
This park is sick. The only draw-
back is the slickness of the
cement, but you get used to it after
Cowtown
Left to right: What's a road trip to the Southwest
without a picture of Jumpin' Joe Lanenga doing a
tailslide? Having a baby turned Neil Heddings'
whole world upside down; now he rides his
stalefishes switch.