Lost Two This Week

R.I.P. Marva Whitney and Fontella Bass

Lost two gems this past week. Marva Whitney had a killer, aggressive sound (strident to some), started in gospel, worked with James Brown, and is most famous for her retort to the Isley Brothers' song "It's Your Thing." Damn straight it was her thing, and those Isley's didn't need to tell her she could do what she wanted with it, 'cause she was already doin' it.

Fontella Bass passed away this week as well. She also got her start as Marva and so many others did, singing gospel, then R&B, then soul. From wikipedia:

"At seventeen, she started her professional career working at the Showboat Club near Chain of Rocks, Missouri. In 1961, she auditioned on a dare for the Leon Claxton carnival show and was hired to play piano and sing in the chorus for two weeks, making $175 per week for the two weeks it was in town. She wanted to go on tour with Claxton but her mother refused and according to Bass "... she literally dragged me off the train". It was during this brief stint with Claxton that she was heard by vocalist Little Milton and his bandleader Oliver Sain who hired her to back Little Milton on piano for concerts and recording.^"

^{Known for her biggest hit, "Rescue Me," a million seller, she never got the royalties she deserved from the recording. Killer tune, killer songstress.} 

Rest in Peace, ladies!

Le Container, Cafe Racer Culture Killing it

Lagging on skating, but headed to Seattle to shred some rad in between rain showers. Still diggin' Cafe Race Culture, and the above bike is making me rethink my preference for the Honda SOHC fours (well, maybe not really...). Still, I'ma keep my eyes peeled for a Yamaha TR1 'cause that thing is beautiful. Stressed member is awesome (made me think of my CB160) and it makes the v-twin bearable to look at (Ok, admitting my bias here, not a big v-twin fan  of any type -- there are some exceptions...). And whoever built that thing did a beautiful job. Plus, there's always boobies on there! 

Le Container continues to aggregate some amazing images as well. Eye candy. And the occasional boobies as well!

Evidence XCV: Not Skating Pools

Happy 4-0 to Dixon. Rained all day the day before and the day of the party, then stopped at around 8PM. Dixon got out the torch, as nothing was going to stop him from getting his birthday grinds.  

They got half of the ramp (20') dry, and commenced commencing. We stayed up way past my bedtime, but fun was had by all. 

The next day, as eveyone was nursing their hangovers, Hoss and I did some recon in the nearby neighborhoods. Cool shape, but gnral cool deck and tight. 

Good tranny, and crazy shallow end bars, but gnarlycool deck. 

Gnarly cool deck that has had tile applied to the top and face. 

Steep and deep Roman, gnarly cool deck. Also: caught by the resident, just after the next door neighbor saw us in the alley and said, "Can I help you?" in that patronizing, annoying tone. I told her we were pool workers looking for jobs. Basically true. 

Another cool deck pool, but maybe some potential. Unfotunately for us, all of these were lived in, or appeared that way. Might have to knock on some doors. 

"Punk's Not Dead" in the alleys in Tempe. 

Hoss peepin'.

 

In the words of the almighty Sam Patterson: "Sometimes skateboarding involves not skateboarding."

Evidence XCIV: Birthday Grinds

Every year since I turned 40 I've done my age in frontside grinds in a backyard pool. Last year I spread them out over three: Loyola, Charlotte's, and Mike's. One year, it was all at Charlotte's (and Ham'n'Cheese made a video and stuck it on youtube). One year, Dixon took me to two horrendous pools, one a steep pit where I would take runs and miss grinds because it was so hard, and the other a pebble tech pool with good tranny but meat grinder surface. Thanks for that, Dickborg. This year, I figured I would hit that killer cool deck pool we skated two days prior (I'm calling it dusty deck). I had a meeting at work from 2-3, and figured I'd bail after that. But at that meeting I found out we had another meeting from 3-4. It gets dark at 5:15 or so, and we were going to head to the West Side to shred, so there'd be traffic to deal with. I cut out of the meeting early (3:30), picked up Hoss, made some calls, and headed to the Foundry to meet Dixon, Craig, Joe, and Livingston. We left right away to get to the pool, all the while watching the sun sinking in the sky. It seemed like we had 15 minutes or so when we were pulling up to the cul de sac, but then came the bomb: the pool had been recovered. Hoss and I didn't care and wanted to skte, but the consensus was best to leave it alone. We scrambled -- I didn't want to miss out on my grinds. Livi call Pelon, who lived in a spot with a crappy little pool (the pigeon pool) but who let us ride. He said it was a go. I couldn't remember if I could grind that pool.  Then I remembered I could, and it was just the death box that gave me trouble. It's a little 5-6 footer, steep, but smooth and round. On the way, Joe Dirt took us by one or two possibilities, but they didn't work out. When we got there, Livi said he knocked but nobody was home. And there are two pits in the backyard; friendly, but you probably don't want to go back there unless the owner is there. I knocked again, someone answered, and we were in. I immediately set to the task at hand. Half way through, I ruined my back. But I made it to 44. Thanks guys!

Death doesn't give Dixon any trouble. 

Nor Craig... 

Leaving the plate there... 

Evidence remains.

Evidence XCIII: Pool Dust

Sunday skate day, some are out sick, some are out of town, some are simply out of options. Some opt for sports, others have work commitments. Regardless, Cory, Joe Craig and I went and did some riding. First one some of our compatriots got snagged a few weeks ago. Kept this one to a strict 15 minutes. Super dusty, kinda rough, great shape and features, but slow. Still, grinds went down as shown by Dirty's FS approach. 

The evidence is compelling. 

Saw this cute little puppy taking a nap in the alley. 

On to bowl number two. Also dusty as hell. Minor surface level cancer. A good sweep had it mostly under control, but there was a little puddle that stayed muddy while we rode. Still, amazing tranny, and cool deck coping, but it barely stuck out. Neighbors don't care and wave as we go in. 

JD on the FSG in the shallow environs. Below, Craig gets toey on the BS deathbox grind.

JD lining up the nosepick...

And completing the mission. 

That rebar poking through means a resurfacing is in order to get this thing back to swim shape. Who am I kidding? That ain't gonna happen.

 

 

Evidence XCII: Incontrovertible Evidence

The Evidence is incontrovertible. 

Local capsule had gotten dusty. That's what happens when the scum dries. 

Craig hits it backside. 

Dick Diggity Dickborg back in town to shralp the frontside. 

Another one brought to you by Master Pools.

Evidence XCI: Occupied Territory

Will try to stop wondering why some of my photos post sideways. 

Went back to the Fibrespider, the shastaglass bowl from a few posts ago. Jersey Drew and Philthy were in town to shred the rad. Livi, Joe Dirt and B-Rad were in tow. Pulled right in to the driveway ready to open the gate and park in back, when I noticed a bunch of people in the window staring at me. Knocked on the door, explained that we had been skating the pool. The kid was all of 16 but had a pistol strapped to his waist. He said he could tell people skated, and that since his mother wasn't there we could skate this one time, but she'd be mad if she caught us. From the gaggle of teenage girls one asked, "Can we watch?" "Of course!" Above, Philthy opts for the frontside approach. 

Dirty does too. 

And Jersey Drew doesn't want to be left out! 

Livi takes the f-side approach to the shallow... 

...and the evidence continues to mount.

Goodbye, Gary Glitter

Well, Gary Glitter, the 1970 CB175 cafe racer, is gone. Dude came by, checked it out, and agreed to the price with no haggling, hemming or hawing. Maye I should have charged more? Bike was a blast to ride around, title was easy to procure with an abandoned vehicle application, and the two months of occasional work I did on it was fun. Some of the parts I used were laying around: cables, CB160 speedo and headlight bucket, tach for the CB350 project, material for the glitter seat. Thing ran strong and fast with only 4K original miles. But Gary had to go, as we need a down payment on a car for Meg in MA. Goodbye Gary Glitter, you dirty bird of a pervert.

Wound up lowering the tach mount, and putting it next to speedo. 

Extensions for air filters seemed to do the trick just right.

Evidence XC: Golden Turd

Let me just state this one right at the onset: Livingston pulled the f-side hurricane in the brown bowl. Yes, this is not the make, yes I am impatient, but this is exactly what it looked like and Ham'n'cheese was there for the proper documentation. 

On the way in, Hoss was chillin' with Crusty. Unfortunately Crusty smelled like stale urine. 

Al is one of those dudes who don't give up. Multiple ass and hipper slams led to the eventual bs fakie over the stairs in the shallow. 

Joe dirt is from Texas, where, apparently, they simply grind over shallow steps. 

Ladies and Gents, Joe "General Custer" D-D-D-D-Dirt

Old evidence mingles with a new fascination. 

Livingston also does fsbs in pools... 

Nick tore that DB a new one, every time. 

Low light, winding down, and Livi ollies the shallow stairs.

 

Killer day, stoked to skate with the boys. Took some runs at Cowtown/Foundry, days are apparently numbered.