Hair Styles for Miles

It has been a blazing hot minute since my last Clogging.  And to make matters worse, this post is going to contain a collection of photos I didn't even take.  Unbeknownst to the man himself, this is a Chase Newton guest post.  Try and guess the theme of all these photos.

                                     Taylor is shown here sporting a nice healthy mustache.

Same mustache, different hat position.

I am not sure who is behind the shaver, but the results indicate the work of a true pro. 

  

Old Dirt Unearthed

Of the things I regret doing in life, like going to prom, the one that trumps all others is buying and owning a Canon GL2.  What strange illogical portion of my brain did I use while making this camcorder purchase?  I do not recall getting some unheard of deal on my GL2.  If fact, I am almost certain a VX1000 would have been cheaper.  

Putting the filming knowledge I now have aside for a moment, I do recall having many great times with my Canon GL2.  I captured some priceless moments, some incredible tricks (most of which would have probably looked better through the lens of a VX), and even made a couple mediocre videos.  

I have recently been digging deeper and deeper into the archives to find hidden gems.  Perhaps like dwarfs in a Tolkien novel digging too far into the mountains of Middle-Earth, I have tunneled too deep into the Archives, and unearthed something dark and evil.  Or maybe I have just discovered a treasure trove of intriguing footage, unfortunately filmed with a shitty camera.  

"Don't you just hate it when you're trying to skate, but you can't concentrate because you have Brotha Lynch lyrics in your head."  - Cody Wayne.     

Through Another Man's Lens Vol. 1

I have completely blown it.  I really screwed the pooch this time, as some would say.  My attempt at Clogging the final days of Christmas was about as successful as my attempt at passing high school algebra.  Luckily The Clog is no strangler to failure, and half of my posts are concerned with pies, beer and my cat.  never did I say these were unworthy topics for Clogging but let's face it, given the history and style of my blog, none of my followers are going to stress over a missed post or five.  Even after firmly declaring my nonchalant stance on the subject of "blowing it," I still feel compelled to begin 2013 with relatively noteworthy series of posts to compensate for my failure.

Over the years I have known Lane Kerans he has worn a number of hats.  Whether he is Lane the skateboarder, Lane the photographer, Lane the beat maker, or Lane the experimental tagger/stencil artist (that was a weird one dude), the man's creativity and keen eye for the obscure naturally shine through.  Suffice it to say, Lane thrusts himself head first into all his endeavours, for good or for ill, and allows himself to be tossed around in the tempestuous sees of his own mind.  But of all the strange paths Lane has travelled and exotic hats he has worn, the one I most identify him by is that of visual historian of the life and times of his friends and loved ones.  We have all shared quite an interesting existence, and Lane has always been there with a camera, missing not one moment.

I have selected a variety of different photos taken by Lane that not only tell the story of those individuals within them, but of the time period in the which the photos were taken.  I am aware that these images are not mine to repost, and in doing so run the risk of butchering their artistic soul by my own uniformed and biased interpretation of them.  But like I said, it's the freaking Clog.

Bill, Matt, Austin, David young as hell and chilling on some bench at some skate spot in SF that I have always wanted to skate.  During these times San Francisco must have seemed like some far off skateboarding mecca to these boys.  Like many of the photos in this post I was not present, but I can safely that everyone pictured is either tired or pissed off and Lane for taking the photo.  Everyone is looking pretty tough except for Matt, who seems to be looking down at something, or nothing at all.  

Lane took this photo of Cho Cho during high school photo class, or at least I assume so given the type of camera used.  I met Bryan Ochoa, renamed Cho Cho Brown Brown by our dear friend Michael shortly after, through mutual friends and skating.  He looked identical to Lindsey Robertson and had a quite demeanor punctuated by random sarcastic outbursts.  In our eyes he was, and will always be, a legend.   

This photo was taken during the same time period as the previous one, and features another epic human being.  I became acquainted with Matt Hicks through Cho Cho and Lane.  I remember instantly becoming a fan of not only Matt's skateboarding, but his lifestyle as well.  His approach to skateboarding differed completely from mine and his carefree somewhat self destructive ways both intrigued and inspired me.  Matt has been smoking for as long as I have known him, and there is a good chance that while I type this he is sitting in that very same seat enjoying a cigarette. 

I just about shit my pants when I learned of Matt Hicks smith grinding the DMV rail.  He dipped the hell out of this grind to the point of almost rolling off it with his front wheels.  It solidified his status as my favorite skater, and to this day Matt still has a smith grind Ed Templeton would be proud of.

Peter Jensen is pictured here attacking Cho Cho.  I highly doubt anyone could tell you what brought about this situation, but that makes it no less hilarious.  Maybe Peter just wanted to fuck with the Cho man, which would come as no surprise to anyone who knew peter during this time period.  He was notorious for picking on all those who skated during lunch in the parking lot at Leigh.  It was all in good fun though, because Peter is an amazing human and shares 2/3 of Peter Raffin's name.  Think about that one.  

Right after soiling my trousers over Matt's smith grind I proceeded to unleash another turd because of Mikey's salad grind on olinder.  Ok, so I may not have actually had that many bowel movements, but at the time both of these handrail tricks stoked me out significantly.  I love how Drew's ass is the focal point of the shot.  I also love how after learning Mikey did this trick I was able to convince him to do it again, just so I could film it.

Lane obviously didn't take this picture because he is in it.  Well I guess it could be one of those self timer devices, but this was back in 2006 and I don't think they were invented yet.  Either way, this is a Prom picture with Angela and Mikey, Lane and Roshy, Mercede and Jake.  Mikey and Angela dated for quite some time, as did Lane and Roshy, but none are currently together.  Jake had a crush on Mercede for a while and then her and I began dating.  He didn't much care for me after that and had every right not too.  He eventually forgave me, which I am thankful for, because these days we are homies and Jake is a genuinely good guy.    

What would a collection of photos from way back when be without one of Lane shredding.  Observe the steeze of this ollie.  Look at that damn back foot!  Lane is still gnarly on a skatboard, and to this day will not hesitate to pound a few beers and throw himself down the Red Park rail on a zip zinger.  

A Little Late for Day Eight

One of the guiding principles behind The Twelve Days, or five in the case of this particular year, of Clogmas is that posts can be earlier or later than their corresponding day. Typically they come later, but rest assured the posts will arrive.  So without further ado...

On the eighth day of Christmas,
The Clog gave to me
Eight ungodly ounces.

In actuality, the Limerita is really eight glorious ounces of zesty fun! The strange blend of booze, sugar and whatever the hell else Budweiser has decided to pump into it has made Limerita the undisputed king of refreshing beverages. Nothing tastes better on a hot summer day than one of these potent little suckers. And yes, I am well aware it is the dead of winter.

My Christmas came early this friday, because my good pal J Bone slithered down the chimney with a six pack of Limeritas and a unique and inspirational sign to go along with it. I am really starting to get into the spirit of the season.

p.s

This marks my 250th Clog post.

Five Days and Counting, but Who's Counting

There are only five days left before the presents are unveiled, eggnog is relentlessly consumed, and every man woman and child can take a collective sigh of relief because holiday shopping has come to an end. But if you subscribe to outrageous armageddon theories, then there are only several hours before the end of life as we know it. Is it any wonder, that in the face of impending doom, I have neglected to bring back the Twelve Days of Clogmas that I started a year ago. Aw man, I can't resist tradition. Looks like I will just have to jump in a several days late.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
The Clog gave to me
Seven seasonal photos.

A delicious spiral of nuts and molten sugar. The double meaning that comes with this caption conjures up feelings of great pain.

Dead as a doornail he was.

My favorite band only plays during the holidays and at the Cow Palace.

I am just going to assume this sign is referring to Mike.

The Dickens Fair has some seriously questionable puppets. hehe, DICKens.

Zack Wallin gets it up, and I throw out another penis reference.

I won't make a dick reference with this photo, but Nate is totally hydrating that root.

Christmas Wishtmas Lishmastless More or Lesstmassness

The Christmas list poses many troubles for a young lad. How can I possibly fit all of my needs onto one sheet of parchment? How can I figure out what all my complex and varied needs are within the span of several weeks? Most importantly, how can anyone truly fulfill all of these needs when many of them are not material, but emotion and spiritual? I am most likely making far too big a deal about this issue. Regardless, I have taken the time to post a few of the things I want, or feel the universe has already delivered to me and am much grateful for.

If ever there was a gift certificate I would use within hours of receiving, this is the one. There are plenty of shopping days left people, show me some love!

As a gift to me from the city of Los Gatos, fiberglass was placed around the top of the brick wall at the park near my parent's house. ironically the city did this shortly after I moved out. Better late than never I suppose.

I like to pretend that I own, and live inside, the Emerald Forest. In actuality I do not, but I would very much like to. Maybe I can start off by just working there.

It Needs to Start Somewhere

The advent calendar is similar to Pandora's Box, in that upon opening, all the chaos of the holidays is unleashed upon frightened consumers.

If I am opening Pandora's Box, chocolate better be involved in some way. Let's light this candle!

I know that winter is in full swing when the pumpkin spice latte is replaced by the wretched peppermint mocha.

Luckily I have these two to whisk me away to the Los Gatos Christmas parade, where the bands play loud and sangria flows like water down a mountainside.

Rain or shine my friends.

You would think after the first time he would have learned his lesson.

The Stanford band comes to Tommy's after the parade to play a little private show for loyal patrons/scumbags, and year after year, always manage to play a cover of one of my favorite Paul Simon songs. The combination of music and location always raise my spirits. Celebration Ale helps too.

Dale has never been featured on The Clog. Dale has probably never read or even heard of The Clog. The Clog has featured Celebration Ale, and Dale has served me Celebration Ale. It is about damn time this man's face found its way onto The Clog. Some things were just meant to be.

This guy grabbed a gourd and chanted so incoherent nonsense about "dope." Apparently weed saves lives.