No Bloggadocio, just Blagging

So, been blagging lately. Not for lack of activity -- shit's been going down! Been skating with Dug, Davey, Big Tim, and others, but just didn't take photos. Skated Attleboro last Sunday, killer BBQ session, but I didn't stop skating until it started getting dark, and everyone else had stopped, so no photos. Good food, though. Thanks Iggy!

But of course there are other loves in life. Records! Made one return visit to Deja Vu, and the nice old lady in there sold me a wood 7"box/carrier for $3, and a Shel Silverstein record for $4. He's reading stories from Where the Sidewalk Ends, and Meg and I cracked up.

I gave up on the old coot at Cheap-O Records, too much hassle, and the dude's douchey. Made a couple trips to In Your Ear, and am slowly going through their soul stuff. Pulled an original copy of Andre Williams' "Sweet Little Pussycat":

...and what I'm guessing is a somewhat obscure soul instro, "Nose Full of White" by Mr. D and the Highlights. Some kind of chilled out instro ode to the devil's dandruff? No youtube video, but you can look  it up and find it (or wait for my next soul comp CD!).

Might have a line on doing some DJing at some point... details to follow.

 

Got to see Vancouver, BC's DOA last week. Joey Shithead is punk royalty, and this is their last tour. Thanks for all the killer shows over the past 30 years, Joey! 

Will get back to at least shooting the perfunctory skate images next session. In the meantime, enjoy these shredders!

And been riding the bikes around as the temp drops. Don't mind riding in the cold -- and I've got the gear to prove it. Finding my way around Boston via motorcycle has been pretty fun when it's not frustrating, but I'm getting there. How about meeting up with the Runaways by bike? 

Little cold for this kind of activity... 

And before I go, one for the ladies.

 

Life in the 'Dick, part 3 (and points elsewhere too)

More life in the 'Dick? That's Natick to you. You should come and visit. You can kick it in the 'Dick!

Meg and I made another trip to her hometown for a visit to the beach (possibly the last of the season?), and decided to take the Valiant. This is the lighthouse where we got married.

Speaking of Mattapoisett -- I'll come back to it in a second -- do you know why it's important to this guy? Any true fan of the Bruins can tell you who this is: Rene Rancourt, the dude who's been singing the national anthem at their games for the past 35 years. He lives in the 'Dick, but has a connection to Mattapoisett. There is a cool, old style burger spot named Casey's in the Dick, been here since 1922.

I had trouble opening the door the first time I went (see "Life in the Dick, part 1"), but I got it under control now. Good hot dogs and burgers. So before we headed to Maine for Labor Day (along with everyone else on the East Coast, judging from traffic) I had a burger there. There are only 10 stools (most people get stuff to go or to eat outside), and there was a spot at the end next to this older guy. I have a copy of the NYT, he makes fun of me and asks me if I am from there, I tell him no, Seattle by way of Phoenix, but my wife is from here, a small town called Mattapoisett. "Do you know it?" I ask him. "Know it? I lost my cherry there!" he responds. He proceeds to tell me in graphic detail about how he was in college, had a trip to Mattapoisett, met a girl at a party, and got a BJ. "It was dark out, and it was only when we went back into the party that we could see the grass stains on her skirt!" Then I found out who he was -- Rene himself! He is now a hero and I am hoping we can chill again at Casey's  -- he lives in the Dick, too! I texted a few friends that day and told them the story, and they didn't believe it for a while. But how could I make that up?

Later that day, we went up to Maine to visit Meg's Aunt and Uncle, and her cousins, and their kids. We stopped at Bob's Clam Hut on the way -- a tradition for us and Meg's family. Amazing whole belly fried clams, and Meg's digging in to her lobster roll.

We had such a great time swimming and kayaking and playing Scrabble, croquet and badminton that I didn't take any photos. I also shaved off my beard in 5 stages, and was going to post photos but I'm feeling a little selfie conscious.

 

I take it back. I took a photo of this sign. All the beaches were for "residents only" -- I decided that people in Maine need to learn how to share.

After returning, our friend Erin came to town, on tour with Blondie and X. We picked her up at the airport and dropped her off at her hotel. While she and Meg were inside dropping off her luggage (and apparently getting a complimentary glass of wine!), I stood outside by the Valiant and chatted with Blondie's bass player about music in Boston in the 70's (Real Kids, Neighborhoods, DMZ, etc., etc.).

The next day, Meg and I headed up to Hampton Beach, NH, to see the show. It was in this very historic hall that dates to 1898 (!), and they have banners of some of the acts who have played there over the years, going back to the Jazz Age. X was great, and yes, Billy Zoom is still creepy but cool. 

I had never seen Blondie, so this was fun. Debbie Harry came out in this get up (I-Phone, shitty light, bad photos, what can I say) because it is the "No Principles" tour. Get it? She's a principal. They were great, and it was cool to see kids and the old fogies rocking out -- and a few of the fogies get kicked out. Thank you Erin for the tickets, great to see you, have a blast on tour, and see you in New Bedford in October!

Last weekend we went to a motorcycle show in Oxford. It's a little over an 80-mile round trip, and we decided to ride bikes out there. Meg killed it on the SR250, getting up to 65mph, her farthest and fastest trip on her bike so far. Very cool bikes. Won't bore you with the details., but took a few photos of some of the cooler Hondas. CB75o above, shiny tank and side covers. 

CB175 sloper racer. 

CL175 with a fat ass seat. 

Very cool, original and unmolested CB77 Superhawk, this is the speedo/tach combo where the needles go in opposite directions. 

And this is the whole bike. I want one of these bad, 

Another CB77, nice and restored. 

I've skated Dug E. Death's Hellgate ramp a couple times now, and finally remembered to take photos. Last session was just me and him. Tight corners, and some construction obstructing the lines. Always fun to skate and BS with Dug. 

Finally, for your viewing pleasure, Meg with our cats. Whenever both cats are on her, which is rare, she always insists that I take a photo. The photos, of course, go nowhere but just sit on my phone. Until now!

 

Evidence CXLIX: Goodbye again, Phoenix

Final day in Phoenix last Wednesday, early Thursday flight, means gotta get some last licks in. The Tuesday session fell through and Hoss and I did some scoping. Wednesday it was back to the front and the Pick Up Sticks bowl. Brad made the back D after a couple tries, but I blew the shot and asked him to do it again, so he did. 

Courtman taking out a pound of flesh... or tile. 

Hoss is particularly interested in finding new lines. 

Hole in the dark clouds, sun not yet setting. 

A little debris remains... 

As does the evidence. Thanks guys, see you in a month or so I hope.

Evidence CXLVIII: Duty Now for the Future

On my second to last day in Phoenix, the plan to skate sort of fell apart -- people didn't have time, etc. Hoss suggested we check out a pool that my buddy Joe gave me a tip on. That's where we started, but the pool had been filled with water. We turned to our friend Gargle Earth, and found several more in the neighborhood. First, the blue one above. Shallow looks tight, surface is likely slippery, but deep end could make up for that. Below, this pool had bull nose, and the surface looked like cement without plaster. Definitely looked killer. Both houses were lived in, the latter with a car with punk stickers on it, so we knocked but got no answers. We'll save 'em for next time.

A couple more were nearby, so we did some scoping... 

Hip death box? 

Turd... 

Last session happened the next day, more to come. Pass by this sign on the way, and it always cracks me up. I try to think of other signs that could use the same letter "V" -- you know, just beautiful art.

And on my final day, it was a treat to see that, despite the construction, the jizzmobile is still around. Wash that jizz off your car!

Evidence CXLVII: Sometimes it's a turd

Court came through with the tip on this one. Big framed cover over it, smooth walls, looked like good tranny. Court couldn't make it that day, so Hoss, Brad, Craig and I investigated. Got the cover off, and things were still looking good. Foot and a half of water to bucket, and it wasn't that dirty. We get to work with the bucket brigade, and about half way through a consensus was reached: the drop in water level had exposed the dreaded face wall kink. This pool is a turd. Never to be dissuaded and always ready to make the best of a shitty situation, we got our runs in, and got our grinds in. Hoss gets the best slam award for hitting a nozzle on his way up. I was tired, felt like shit, and almost passed out. We split in time to check out the gem we skated the day before. 

Even turds get some evidence.

Brad polished this turd with a gnarly shallow end grinder. 

Back at the gem, Craig and Brad took care of business frontside. I sat out the session, but as darkness was looming I once again didn't get the greatest of photos. 

Forgot the evidence the first time, but not the second.

On our way to skate Sunday my 1960 Chevy Apache took a dump on the freeway. Hammeke bailed out and got to skate with Craig while I sat in the 105-degree heat waiting for a tow. As I suspected: distributor problems, so not that big of a deal.