My shades are dark, can't see no art

This is an unpublished introduction to my review of R. Zarka's skateboarding chronology that appeared on Quartersnacks

http://quartersnacks.com/2011/08/book-review-on-a-day-with-no-waves-a-chronicle-of-skateboarding-by-raphael-zarka/#comment-23398

The Snackman was supposed to have been here forty minutes ago, but there are worse places to wait for a meeting than the rooftop of the Standard Hotel. The magic of that second vodka gimlet coursed through my veins while Anabel Dexter-Jones walked past laughing at something Lou Doillon told her. As the sun set over New Jersey, I BBMed with the Two Foot Gangster about unemployment benefits and listened to an advance copy of the Slicky Boy and Mr. Gorgeous mixtape.

On my next drink of the gimlet I could hear the straw slurping the bottom, a sound that would bring any attentive waitress over momentarily. I hoped the Snackman was still coming, since I had spent nearly all of my money at Sin City last night and looked forward to charging these drinks on the Quartersnacks black card. I felt a vibration on the table and my phone showed the Snackman had texted. He would arrive in ten minutes. I looked up to see my attentive waitress asking if she might serve me another of the same.

“Yes, please.”

Once Snackman arrived, he placed an order for a Henny black.

“You mean the Mr. Moya special,” our waitress confirmed.

“Yes, please.” He turned his attention to me. “Sorry I’m late. I had to meet with Lomez up at the polo grounds and he was behind schedule because the homie Chlorine was late coming through with the Lemonheads.” I assured him that I had not minded the delay and asked about the business that brought us here this evening.

“Right,” he said, as he took his first sip of Henny, set the glass back down and opened his drawstring backpack to produce a book that he set on the table before me. The paperback edition bore a black cover and read On a Day With No Waves. A Chronicle of Skateboarding 1779-2009 by Raphaël Zarka. “Have you heard about this thing?”
I hadn’t.

“Scott Bourne gave it to me in Barcelona last week. He said that ever since Slap stopped doing his Black Box column, Quartersnacks has been skateboarding’s most literate institution so he thought we might enjoy it at least, give it a review at most. It’s financed in part by Carhartt Europe, presumably in lieu of opening their shop behind Supreme. Would you be interested in reading this and doing a write-up?”

“You know I am, daddy.”

“Good looks, G-Man. I knew I could count on you. I would do it myself, but between keeping up with Travis Porter singles for the Rap Desk and preparing that Comme des Garcons line with Rei, I doubt I’d find the time.”

I assured the Snackman his faith in me was well founded and he said cool. I was grateful my camouflage pants had cargo pockets as I stowed the book there for safekeeping. Reading and writing the review would only take time. Making sure the book made it home with me was the difficult part. We clinked our glasses and set about enjoying the evening. Traphouse Conner would start spinning in the Boom Boom Room at 10, and Doug Park, Boss Bauer and Roctakon joined our table as the hour approached. Bauer caught Dree Hemingway’s eye and she came over to ask after Marquez. We told her that he was hot on the trail of Ayman al-Zawahiri so she suggested we drink to Marquez’s patriotism and back tail 270s reverts.

The drinks, girls and Brick Squad songs soon began to run together, then the last thing I remember is Snackman walking through the pool with a topless girl on his shoulders while Mooney’s surrounded by two blondes giving him a beard of foam and calling him the Santa Claus of Spring Street. I woke up in the morning, fully dressed, alone in my bed with my laptop opened to my last girlfriend’s facebook photos and the book still in my cargo pocket. I scraped under the sofa for enough change to go out for a bagel, came back from the deli and sat down to work.

nollie flips and jump shots promo #2

Nollie Flips & Jump Shots 2nd Promo from galensnacks on Vimeo.

a pond of two tales

saw some small creatures during yardwork

coming soon: 38th Street News
sup bros
time to head to putnam county


Travis started off the session

hobie heated up and kept reeling them in
we went to a second pond that was less windy. here is where i caught my fish.
i feel compelled to walk around the perimeter of bodies of water whenever possible.
this trek proved difficult
especially with a fishing pole

but i perservered
turns out that it was the fishing hook rather than the thorns that snagged me
nice
jamie was our host at this second pond
the bounty




the white river is within its banks
went for a spin on party mike's Tomos. note the blue jean pocket, for sparkplugs and whatever else.

wear a long jacket as long as my jacket

RIP to the J-Mart aka The Olde Towne Mart

these fragments i have shored against my ruins

this is cash that i spent in japan. it must have gone toward drinks and shoes. please continue to keep sending good vibes and red cross donations japan's way
bird on patrol


mr dans is good. they are open 24 hours, have a variety of burger toppings and sprinkle seasoning salt on their fries. also, you can wash your car while on the block.


white girls love st. patrick's day. my middle name is patrick so the holiday is worthwhile for me. it is the day of the year when my birthday festivities finally draw to a close.


i took the photo since the pup was loving the day, yat's is also present, so props to them.



this is at Indianapolis Museum of Art. It's part of this vast depiction of hell and is most likely the best piece of art in the museum. it's good to know that people were thinking about hell in creative ways a long time ago.
this lady, laurel fletcher, was married to booth tarkington for a minute.
this cost 50 cents and will look good enough to eat, so is nearly a quartersnack.



the misspelling is fitting


this maserati doesn't run right now, but maybe this isn't the last you will see of the machine.
once i told jessica latus about the pinball machine, she knew the truck stop of which i spoke


late night session at hutch's ramp. timing action shots on a digital camera takes effort.
so do front feebles.