Arto Saari - Alaia Issue 2 - Full Text - Summer 2023

ARTO SAARI: FINNISH ENDLESS SUMMER
Words: Mackenzie Eisenhour

What are the odds of a young Finn finding his way to Huntington Beach, California to get paid to ride a skateboard? Now what are the odds of that same Finn selling his home in Southern California to become a legitimate North Shore local and surf photographer? However slim those odds may be—this is the story of one man who defied them.

Arto Saari was born in Seinäjoki, Finland in 1981 and rose up through the ranks of amateur then professional skateboarding to win Thrasher’s coveted “Skater of the Year” award in 2001. After skating to two David Bowie songs* in Flip Skateboards’ blockbuster release Sorry that same year (in what is still deemed by many as one of the best video parts of all time), and getting his first pro model shoe from éS in ‘02—Arto appeared to be on top of the skateboarding world—poised for decades of dominance.

Yet only a year later, a knee injury sustained while filming for Flip’s follow up release, Really Sorry would set into motion a series of six subsequent knee surgeries, and by 2016 his body was simply too battered to continue skateboarding. Struggling to find a new creative path forward, Arto would ultimately move his fledgling family from the heart of Los Angeles to the North Shore of Oahu, trading in his skateboard stunts for his newfound passion for surfing and surf photography. In the Spring of 2023, I sat down for a conversation with him on his life’s unlikely second chapter. 

His first taste of Hawaii and surfing back in ’99 did not go well. In fact, he almost drowned. In Arto’s words, “My first visit to Hawaii was an éS trip right around when Ménikmati came out. We skated the Hickam Air Force base and a few spots on Oahu. Somebody thought it would be a good idea to take a bunch of skaters out surfing for the first time. They gave us some like potato chip performance short boards and we went to Diamond Head and got in from the cliffs. We played around in the water for a few hours then it was getting dark and all of the sudden I’m stuck in the current getting swept out to sea. And by that point I couldn’t even move my arms, we had been out for so long already. I could just see the land getting further and further away. It’s getting dark and my whole crew is just walking up the cliff.”

Panicked, Arto thought he was going to die: “There’s nobody around at this point. I was stuck in this current going nowhere—screaming, kicking, waving my arms. I remember basically just giving up. I was just like, ‘I’m fucked. This is it.’ To this day I don’t even know if it was real or not but all of the sudden I felt this little push. This local braddahcomes from behind me like, “Hello Brah, you need some help?” Like a big old Hawaiian guy and he’s just pushing my board and gets me all the way into the shore. Basically saves my life. That was my introduction to surfing.”

Saari elaborates: “After that I remember thinking, ‘I’ll just stick to what I know. Give me a handrail and some stairs. I’m good on this surfing thing. Otherwise I’ll just die.’ 16 years later, not until 2016—I was like, ‘You know what? I’m gonna try this surfing thing again.’” 

I asked him what prompted a return to something that almost killed him the first time. He replies, “By ’16, I was going on a lot of skate trips, shooting a bunch of photos, but my skateboarding was just not happening anymore. I had really bad arthritis in my knee. It was such a sad thing to let go of riding a board. I had photography but I really didn’t know what to do with myself. I went to a friend’s wedding in Mexico, and this Finnish/Mexican pro surfer Kalle Carranza was there. He lent me a board and took me out. It was mostly flat that day, but he pushed me into this little six-inch peeler and I just felt this force pick me up. I felt this glide and that was enough. I came home, went to the Burton store and got the biggest surfboard they had. I started driving to the coast every day for a year in LA—never catching a wave. Finally, I was like, ‘Fuck it, I’m 35 years old. If I want to learn how to surf I need to go where there’s a lot of waves all year round.’ That’s what prompted the move to Hawaii.”

So Arto sold his house on Fairfax in Hollywood and moved his seven-month pregnant wife and toddler daughter into what he describes as a cement shack on the North Shore. As Saari explains, “We had planned to do a home birth. I basically moved her into this house that looked like a public bathroom. It’s an old brick house and it was completely gutted. When the doula came over to see where we would do the birth, she walked into the house, with no plumbing, no electrical. She was like, “Um, is there running water?” This was like a month before the birth. Eventually she was just like, ‘Well, Jesus was born in the manger. I guess this will do.’

The Saaris did manage to get the house ready in time (just barely, with Arto’s wife yelling at the workers to leave when she began going into labor) and they would go on to build another second, larger house on the property. Arto elaborates, “I felt like the move to Hawaii lasted three-and-a-half years. During that time I didn’t even really shoot any pictures. I kind of lost my passion for photography at first. I became a construction guy basically.”

Asked when his creative mojo returned he explains; “I was on the bike path a bunch, and I would still have my camera along. If there was a gnarly swell I would go shoot Pipe (Pipeline). I’d shoot a few pictures but I was not into it. Then spending more time on the bike path, going to check the surf, taking the kids to school—I just started to see all these little moments. Not even surf photography but just portraits and scenes of daily life here—the backstage as people are getting ready to surf. That really sparked me. Once I was shooting that I started shooting more actual surfing.”

Since then Arto has become a fixture in the local North Shore scene and his photography has become his primary income. His recent collaboration with Slowtide Towels is a good example of his work’s powerful commercial appeal. While he still describes himself more as a “struggling artist” than a bonafide pro—his idyllic second act is a happy ending to an already extraordinary life arc. 

Will his family stay put on the North Shore for the foreseeable future? Arto pauses, then replies, “Usually they say it takes about 2-3 years for people coming to Hawaii to either stay or bounce. Either the islands take you in or people can’t deal with it and leave. We’ve been here five years now, almost six. I think we have grown some roots and are becoming a part of the community. The kids love it, this is all they know. There are more world class waves on this short, couple of miles stretch than anywhere else in the world. I couldn’t imagine going anywhere else now.”  

* 1984 and Rock n’ Roll Suicide

 
RAW INTERVIEW TEXT / CONDUCTED BY PHONE MAY 2023:

ME: Hey Arto.

Arto: Yeah buddy. What’s happening?

ME: I’m good. How are you?
Arto: Do you remember Andre Genovese? 

Definitely. Like the switch ollie/switch flip beast.
He’s my neighbor now. I just ran into him. He randomly hit me up a few years ago to see if I knew anybody renting a house here. So I told him like, “Yeah, call these couple of people.” I didn’t hear from him for a few months and then he just showed up like, “Dude I just rented a place. It’s like two houses over from yours.” 

He rode for Hurley when I worked for Hurley.
That’s right he was a Hurley guy.

When did you first visit Hawaii?
My first visit to Hawaii I think was an éS trip with Atiba (Jefferson) and some of the boys. I want to say it was right around when Menikmati came out and we did a demo tour. We skated the Hickam Air Force base and a few spots on Oahu. But somebody thought it would be a good idea to take a bunch of skaters out surfing for the first time. They were like, “Oh yeah, just take these boards.” And they gave us a bunch of like potato chip performance short boards and were just like, “Paddle out there.” So we went to Diamond Head and got in from the cliffs. We played around in the water for a few hours then it was getting dark and all of the sudden I’m stuck in the current getting swept out to sea. And by that point I couldn’t even move my arms. They were just like spaghetti noodles—we had been out for so long already. I could just see the land getting further and further away. It’s getting darker and darker and my whole crew is just walking up the cliff. 

Jesus.
There’s nobody around at this point. Nobody in the water, it’s just completely empty. The waves even weren’t that big, they were probably knee high but I was stuck in this current going nowhere. Screaming, kicking, waving my arms. I remember basically just giving up paddling. I was just like, “I’m fucked. This is it.” To this day I don’t even know if it was real or not but all of the sudden I felt this little push and I started moving, I started paddling again and know I was moving toward the shore. This local bradda comes from behind me like, “Hello Bra, you need some help?” Like a big old Hawaiian guy and he’s just paddling and pushing my board and gets me all the way into the shore. Basically saves my life. That was my first introduction to surfing. 

You had a guardian angel out there.  
He came out of nowhere. 



That’s a heavy first experience for surfing.
Yeah, after that I remember thinking like, “I’ll just stick to what I know. Give me a handrail and some stairs. I’m good on this surfing thing. Otherwise I’ll just die.” 16 years later, not until 2016—I was like, “You know what? I’m gonna try this surfing thing again.”   

So it wasn’t love at first sight with Hawaii and surfing?
Oh hell no. I mean I lived in Huntington Beach for 10 years and I was maybe in the water a handful of times just to swim. I never even thought about surfing. It was not even on my radar. 

What made it come back around in 2016?
At that point I was going on a lot of trips, shooting a bunch of photos, and just feeling pretty shitty physically. I was pretty cooked. At that point my skateboarding was just not happening any more. I felt like, “I can’t move.” It was such a sad thing to let go of riding a board. I had photography but I really didn’t know what to do with myself. It was a tough mental battle. I went to a friend’s wedding in Mexico, and this Finnish/Mexican pro surfer Kalle Carranza—he’s a buddy of mine, he was there and he was like, “Let me take you out surfing. Just grab a board from my surf shop and I’ll show you.” It was basically flat that day, there were no waves. But he pushed me into this little six-inch peeler and I just felt this force pick me up. I felt this glide and that was enough. I came home, went to the Burton store (At the time Arto rode for Alien Workshop which had then been bought by Burton) and got the biggest surfboard they had and started driving to the coast every day for like a year. Never catching a wave so at that point I was like, “Fuck it, I’m 35 years old. If I want to learn how to surf I need to go where there’s a lot of waves all year round.” That’s what prompted the move to Hawaii. 

I heard that you were trying for a second to move out there. Waiting for something to open up to buy on the North Shore?
Yeah, during that year that I was heading to the coast in LA trying to surf these developers were trying to buy our house on Fairfax. So it was sort of the perfect storm. These developers kept knocking on our door like, “Hey, we want to buy your house.” We had already decided to move, we just didn’t know where. That’s when I decided on Hawaii. It was kind of weird, all these forces simultaneously occurred. We had sold our house on Fairfax and were half way through the escrow when this property popped up. My realtor called me and was like, “Hey, this is going to go fast. If you want it go gotta put an offer in right now.” I hadn’t even seen the property but he was like, “If you want it this, you have to put an offer in tomorrow.” I was like, “I’ll take it.” So I bought it sight unseen. 

Just trusting the flow.
I had been watching the market there for a year and I kind of knew a little bit about it. I knew the location. I knew the prices there. But it was basically just a flat farm lot with grass on it and a tiny little house. It was built in the ‘70s and would have to be redone completely. But I was just trying to get anywhere on the island. I was looking all over and by some miracle this North Shore lot popped up and it was just perfect.



Your still in that spot right?
Yeah, still here in the same spot. We did a lot of work on it. I felt like the move to Hawaii lasted three and a half years. During that time I didn’t even really shoot any pictures. I kind of lost my passion for photography at first. I became a construction guy basically. Renovated the small house on the property, and we built a another new house from scratch. I had to put in a little ice bath and a sauna to keep the Finnish vibes going. We had a big project on our hands. After the three and half years I thought I’d just be a construction guy. I was like, “Skating is done. I’m surfing. I’ll be a contractor.” I didn’t have any passion to shoot photos. I was in a new place I didn’t know what to shoot. 

Were your kids born in LA or out there?
My daughter was born in LA and my son was born here in the little house. It was a home birth. My wife was seven months pregnant when we got here. I basically moved her into this house that looked like a public bathroom. It’s an old brick house and it was completely gutted. When the doula came over to see where we would do the birth, she walked into the house, it was completely gutted with no plumbing, no electrical. It was just a brick shell with a roof. She was like, “Um, is there running water?” This was like a month before the birth. Eventually she was just like, “Well, Jesus was born in the manger. I guess this will do. As long as you have running water this will work.” 

So it worked out? Your son was born there?
Yeah. I managed to finish the work in time. I got a bath tub in there, a bed, walls. It looked like a house by the time he was born. But I do remember I still had workers there when my wife was going into labor. She was screaming and there’s people putting shelves in the closet, power tools and eventually she was just like, “Get the fuck out of here!” Everyone dropped their tools and disappeared (laughs). 

She’s American right? Not Finnish?
Yes, she’s American.  

Sounds like a lot going on right then. Trial by fire. Did you ever officially retire from pro skating after moving out there?
No. I mean the first year I was in Hawaii I was still pretty involved with skating. Trying to work with companies. I was on New Balance at the time and working with Volcom trying to do skate stuff. It kind of became too difficult I guess for them to get me over (to the mainland). When I was in LA, every skate trip or job I went on was not in LA. Everything involved traveling. So I figured, “Why do I need to be in LA? I can just hop over in five hours—tickets are a few hundred bucks.” That was my reasoning for it. But once I got here everybody is just sort of like, “Well, your stuck on the rock, we don’t care about you.” All the connections dried up pretty fast. 

When did this new passion for creating your own world out there kind of kick in? I saw the video of you taking your kids to school on the bike path and shooting photos on the way home. Was there a moment where you fell back in love with photography?
Yeah, after I got settled and moved in here—after the building project—I was on the bike path a bunch, and I would still have my camera along once in a while. If there was a gnarly swell I would go shoot Pipe (Pipeline) and I would almost feel obligated to shoot because it was so crazy. I’d shoot a few pictures but I was not into it. Then spending more time on the bike path, going to check the surf, taking the kids to school—I just started to see all these little moments along the path. I had always been really interested in photojournalism so I just started shooting people on the bike path for fun. Not even surf photography but just portraits and scenes of daily life here. Shit that goes on in the backstage basically as people are getting ready to go surf and all the action behind the scenes. That really sparked me to shoot more. Once I was shooting that I started shooting more actual surfing. 



That strip on the North Shore is basically the center of the surfing universe right?   
Yeah, I guess from a skater’s perspective it would be like somebody showing up at EMB (San Francisco’s Embarcadero plaza that was long considered the center of the skate universe) and starting to shoot portraits. There are more world class waves on this short, couple of miles stretch than anywhere else in the world. During the winter, from like November to February the whole surf industry is here. You can be a pro surfer anywhere but I think if you really want to make it globally and be one of the top dogs you gotta come over here and cut your teeth at Pipe (line) and surf Hawaii waves. It’s kind of like a right of passage. If you really want to be a part of the whole deal of surfing you gotta put in your time over here too. 

I forgot to ask too, I know there was the first knee injury in Really Sorry (’03). Was there a key injury that changed your course or was it all of them together?
The Really Sorry one kind of started the whole chain of events. 

That was the nollie?
Yeah. The nollie. I blew my PCL (Posterior Cruciate Ligament)out and the ACL (Anterior Cruciate Ligament)—that was the first surgery. Then I had five more surgeries in six years. And that was like the key time when I was supposed to be skating at my peak but I was just back-and-forth having knee surgeries the whole time. Then once I hit 30, the arthritis got so bad that they couldn’t really do much about it anymore. I had a new ACL put in for my last video part (Mindfield by Alien Workshop/Greg Hunt, 2008) and I managed to get sober for six months and finished filming but by the end I had worn out the ACL they had just put in. So that was the last time I got surgery. 

It was worn out in six months? That’s heavy.
I think the knee thing definitely cut my time short. That was the big thing. I mean I got knocked out a few times. Hit my head. I’m sure there was some brain damage or whatever but it doesn’t bother me now. 

When did you get settled into this new life? I assume you’re staying in Hawaii now for the long haul? 
Yeah, I think I’m here for the long haul. Usually they say it takes about 2-3 years for people coming to Hawaii to either stay or bounce. Either the islands take you in or people can’t deal with it and leave. We’ve been here five years now, almost six. I think we have grown some roots and are becoming a part of the community here. The kids love it, this is all they know now so I think it’s safe to say we are here to stay. I couldn’t even imagine going anywhere else now.

You’re not moving back to Finland anytime soon?
No. Any travel I do now, the swell charts dictate where I go (laughs). That’s pretty much my calendar now. “Is there swells there?” Before all the trips were based on skate spots. 

Are you able to live off your photography now on some level?
No. I don’t know if you can ever live just off photography in this day and age. I think I’m more of a struggling artist (laughs). But these last couple of winters have been pretty good. I’ve been able to get a little bit of a name in the surf industry and people started to know my photography. I’ve been getting little odd jobs throughout. 

How did the Slowtide towel project come together for example?  
They just hit me up. We are kind of family friends with the guy who runs the company. He actually used to be a designer for Etnies back in the day so we had a connection through that. They started their company (Slowtide) and my photos kind of fit their vibe so it made sense. But there’s a lot of commercial work too here in Hawaii. But a lot of it goes through New York. They end up bringing a whole crew out here rather than hiring locally. 

Are you still focusing on black and white or do you shoot everything now?
I’m shooting everything. A lot of the stuff you see, obviously my personal obsession is black and white. The bike path project tends to live in black and white. A lot of my portraits too. But shooting for clients of course, the first thing they say is they want color.

Color is like the dazzle that the mainstream wants.
Exactly. And I get it. That’s why they come to Hawaii to shoot. They want the blue sky, clear, clean blue water, and green palm trees and flowers and the rest. But shooting in black and white has been my own artistic vibe just to entertain my artistic obsession. But I shoot a lot of color too. 

Do you still draw inspiration from the skate photographers you spent all those years with—French Fred (Mortagne), Oliver (Barton), Skin (Phillips), Atiba (Jefferson)?
For sure. Those guys had such a big influence on me from the start. That was how I learned photography—by hanging out with all those dudes. My baseline comes from that. I got my first camera off Skin Phillips and all those great skate photographers had such an affect on me. But at the same time you start growing on your own as a photographer, start shooting different stuff and getting inspired by different stuff. For portraits for example, I’ve been obsessed with (Richard) Avedon forever and (Annie) Leibovitz. There’s a French guy, Raymond Depardon, I’ve been really into his black and whites of kind of mundane landscapes.

Are there photographers in surfing that you are into?
I’ve been heavily into this guy Ted Grambeau from Australia. A lot of the old school guys too like John Severson and Bob Brewer (RIP) who just passed away. I love all the classic guys. There are obviously some incredible new photographers coming up too, doing a little bit different stuff. Ben Thouard is another one. There are a lot of incredible water photographers here. 

Do you ever get the itch the go skate still? I think you still have some quarterpipes in the driveway right?  
I do have some quarterpipes but honestly they’re mostly for the kids. I enjoy building skate stuff now more than I enjoy physically skating them. I whipped up the quarterpipes and scratched a couple of grinds but that’s about it. 

Do the kids skate hard?
My daughter kind of learned how to roll around. I also have a little concrete mini ramp on the driveway. They just kind of learned to cruise around on it. Do some turns. But my daughter is a real girl’s girl. She doesn’t really surf or skate. She dances. She likes ballet. And my boy is five and a half so he’s just kind of pushing around on his knees. The skateboard is just one of the toys. It’s not a thing yet. 

My kids almost won’t do it because it’s dad’s thing or whatever. Like when we skated as kids it was rebellious or whatever. But if your parents do it I guess that changes it.
Yeah. Exactly. I’m thinking maybe if I don’t push it they’ll just naturally pick it up on their own.

I bring my kids down to Stoner Plaza all the time. They’ll roll around for a few minutes then be like, “Let’s go play tennis”. It’s just like one of the many activities. But yeah, having dad do it seems like a detractor.
I got some boards laying around. I haven’t really pushed it. To tell you the truth I don’t know if I could spend another 20 years in a skatepark.

You put in your time. I mean as skate journalists we would maybe tag along with you guys on a tour here and there. And even one tour seemed pretty exhausting. But you guys lived on those tours like permanently for decades.  
I think I definitely have a little PTSD (laughs). I mean it was fun. Don’t get me wrong. It was the greatest thing ever. But at the same time, when you live and breath something for 20 years, I just feel like I have to do something different.  

   
I think you have pretty much the coolest second act anyone could write.
It (skateboarding) almost killed me too a couple of times so there are just certain things that tick my brain, like, “I can’t do that anymore.” My life today pretty much consists of pulling weeds, fighting the jungle, growing papaya, taking the kids to school, surfing, and loving the bike path. 

I got to say, when I was a little kid growing up in Norway we would visit Sunset Beach every summer because my aunt lived out there with my grandma and cousins. We would stay at this beach house right across from Kammy’s Market and I remember crossing that bike path in the middle to go to Kammy’s all the time. When I saw your video it brought back the craziest memories. 
Yeah, Kammy’s Market was a legendary surf snack spot there. You got the best of both words—the snow and a little taste for the tropics.  

Do you still have family in Finland? Do they come out to visit?
My immediate family—mom and sister have been coming out. My sister is actually coming in a month. She hasn’t seen the new place yet. My mom tries to come at least once a year to get out of the snow and see the kids. 

So is this it? Do you think you will stay put on the North Shore?
I think so. I’ve been studying surfing for a couple of years now and I just cannot find a coastline with this many world class waves anywhere else in the world. Year round. Winter season the waves are on this side. But then in summertime the south side of the island starts lighting up. The island has waves all year round which is rare for anywhere in the world. It’s a slower paced country living. You’re a little isolated. You definitely give up some of the modern conveniences. But at this point in my life, I’ve never been so happy to just stay put and not get on an airplane. 

I imagine for COVID it must have been amazing being there rather than some apartment in New York or somewhere.
Yeah, we got really incredibly lucky with that one. The only bummer living in Hawaii is when you have to get on a plane and go somewhere else (laughs). 

All time favorite skate photographer.
It’s gotta be Dan Sturt. Favorite and maybe the worst too. He might get both titles. He’s pretty incredible. Such a character. He would say the most fucked up shit right before you were about to jump on a handrail (laughs). He’s a smart dude. He knew how to get behind your head. He always knew just how far to push it—that fine line—to get you to do the trick. And he knew just when to pull back. For most people it probably seemed a little rude and over the top. But he knew how to bring the best out of people. 

Favorite surf photographer?
That’s a tough one. I’ve been more into portrait and fashion photography. I’ve been really freaking out on this guy Bastiaan Woudt. He just had a gallery show at Fahey/Klein in LA, right down the street from you. He’s from Netherlands and is more of an abstract fashion portrait photographer. If I had to pick one for surfing though I think that Ted Grambeau has been the most striking to me. 

All time favorite surfer?
John Florence. 

All time favorite skateboarder?
Tom Penny. It’s gotta be. Maybe the most naturally gifted skateboarder of all time.

He’s still ripping.
I think he’s been off the sauce too for the last couple of years. We see a lot more footage of him now. Rune (Gliffberg) has always been one of my favorites too. And the fact that he’s still ripping hard now is so rad. 

I’m stoked for you and where you ended up man.
It definitely feels like a second lease on life. After almost dying a few times throughout the skateboarding stuff. I don’t mean to be dramatic but I think it was pretty close a few times. 

You skated in probably the gnarliest time in skateboarding. When it was trendiest to go the biggest on stairs and rails. 
It doesn’t seem as trendy to get gnarly anymore. 

There are a few people still doing the occasional 10-kink rail or Jaws jumping down huge drops but then other people can make a full career now with low impact skating, maybe only doing ride-on grinds and slappies.
There are still a couple of guys pushing it. 

Definitely.
Nyjah putting out three parts in one year with shit that you’ve never even seen before. Jaime Foy front crooked grinding like triple kinks. It’s not all ‘90s style pants and slappy grinds.

The pants got really big again though (laughs). At the skatepark over here they all have the Polar Big Boys and whatnot.
It’s like, “What happened? We already went through this.”

Pontus is smart. That’s what happened. It’s all a cycle. If we wear tight pants it’s only a matter of time until someone is like, “Fuck tight pants. I’m going baggy!” And then a few years later someone else will be the new Boulala like, “Fuck baggy, I’m going skin tight!” 
Yeah, you gotta keep your finger on the pulse.
 

Thanks to Arto and Alaia Mag. Photos by Philipp Carl Riedl, Ryan Allen, Aurore Greindl. Layout: Sophie Weidinger. Editor: Wolfgang Weiser. Creative Director: Markus Kietreiber

17 Things You Didn't Know About Jason Dill

Fakie 5-0 on AVE's Green Bench, 2003 by Oliver Barton for Skateboarder

Jason Dill had somewhat of a transient upbringing, moving 22 times from ages 8-17 after his father was incarcerated for intent to distribute cocaine when Jason was 8 (See GQ article). That same year, Jason moved down the street from Ed Templeton in Huntington Beach, opening his eyes to skateboarding. He first appeared in our world via A1-Meats and Blockhead right around the turn of 1990. After a quick stop at Black Label, then Color with the Wray brothers, Jason was anointed pro by Natas Kaupas via 101 in 1993. After 101 ended, and after a quick stint on 23, Dill was handed the keys to the “Polyethylene” kingdom in Alien Workshop’s Photosynthesis . In 2013, AVE and Dill left AWS to launch Jason’s decade old t-shirt company, Fucking Awesome, into a board Brand (FA). Those are the knowns. Now let’s take a look at 17 Things* you probably didn’t know.

* Disclaimer: This article was cancelled twice. It was originally intended to run on a different site back in ‘19. Then again (on another platform) in 2022. As it turned out, both editors decided not to run it based on talks with Jason. Four years later, I dug it out of my vaults. Apologies to anyone who takes offense.


1. JASON LOST HIS VIRGINITY TO A GIRL NAMED CORRINE AT THE AGE OF 15.
“I was 15. That and dropping out of high school were like back-to-back for me. First I got laid, and then I dropped out (laughs).”

2. JASON’S FA CO-PILOT, AVE, ALSO LOST HIS VIRGINITY TO A GIRL NAMED CORINNE AT 15.
“They didn’t meet and didn’t know each other—but both our firsts were named Corrine and I believe we were also both 15. I’m older than him (Anthony) so his was a little later. My Corinne was older than me. She was 17 and I was 15. So I was really moving on up in the world.”

3. THE SURNAME ‘DILL’ WAS ORIGINALLY ‘O’DILL.’
“The Dill name is Irish but it’s actually O’Dill originally. From the story I’ve been told, when immigrants would come into America there would be an alphabetical classification of food rations.” (Meaning the Dills would get their rations before the O’Dills, for example). “So they chopped the ‘O’ for that reason and also to not sound to ‘Mick-ey’. Because being Irish wasn’t that cool here at that point.”

4. JASON WAS BANNED FROM THRASHER IN 1993.
Jeremy Wray explains: “We were supposed to do a triple interview (J Wray, Jonas Wray [RIP], and Dill). We were all up in SF shooting with [Gabe] Morford, Bryce Kanights, and Tobin [Yelland]. The whole interview was shot, we had recorded the interviews too. It was all set. That’s when we both got banned from Thrasher for riding for Color Skateboards. Rich Metiver, the owner of Color, was also the owner of Union Wheels, a competitor to Spitfire and everything up there (DLX/High Speed). They yanked the whole article and banned all three of us (Jason, Jeremy, and Jonas) from Thrasher.” After Jason left Color, his photos started filtering back in. Jason finally got his first Thrasher cover in Nov. 2000 and a second in Sept. 2011. 

5. JASON ONCE LIVED ALONE IN AFRICA FOR 3 MONTHS.
“In 2003 I was sent there on a tour that was meant to last 10 days. It was for the Nelson Mandela Children’s Fund and the electronics company LG. I was riding for Alien Workshop at the time. We flew into Dakar up north, then flew down to Johannesburg. We did skate demos with BMXers and different people all for the charity. We went from Johannesburg to Durban and then to Cape Town—that was the last stop—and then everybody was leaving and I just went to the travel agent and changed my ticket. I stayed in Cape Town for three months by myself, just at different hotels. Every day I’d walk around until I got lost and drunk, come home, and try to find my hotel. It was crazy. I can’t believe I did it and survived.” Asked why he finally left and whether his sponsors were tripping, Jason said, “Just time. I had been there too long. I had just made the Mosaic (’04) part so I think my sponsors were okay with me taking some time off.”

6. JASON IS 12% BRITISH.
“I did a DNA test the other day and expected it just to come back as a four-leaf clover. Just, ‘Boom, you’re Lucky Charms Irish.’ But I was only 88% Irish. I’m 12% British. I had no fucking idea. I thought my whole family up and down was Irish as the fucking Emerald Isle. I’m still predominantly Irish. But I just like to picture the inner fight now within myself of different breeds of white people.”

7. FUCKING AWESOME WILL TURN 22 IN 2023.
“That’s something that’s known but I’m not sure that people realize it.” While the board brand was formally launched in 2013, Jason and his partner Mikey Piscitelli screened the first Fucking Awesome t-shirts, which Jason describes as inspired by “probably some British magazine or something Japanese. I don’t remember exactly,” in the summer of 2001. “It basically started right before 9/11. Just by me being young and growing up around Supreme. I was 21 years old. It was very small and tiny.”

8. FA WAS ALMOST CALLED DILL.
“There was a moment (in ’01) when I was printing shirts with a label that said DILL (à la Stüssy). But that quickly changed to Fucking Awesome.”

9. JASON HAS ONLY MADE ONE SWITCH 360 FLIP IN HIS LIFE—THE ONE IN SNUFF (’94).
“I only ever made that one. It’s the one in the opening line in Snuff at Blackrock. I do it down the stairs. That’s the only one I ever landed and to this day even Anthony (Van Engelen) could never teach me how to do it. I can’t get my back foot back on.”

10. JASON’S MOSAIC (’04) PART WAS MADE UP ENTIRELY OF LINES IN ODE TO HENRY SANCHEZ.
“The whole thing was a line, only at like three or four different places. It was totally a conscious choice. I wanted to do something different. When I had seen Henry Sanchez' part (in Tim and Henry’s Pack of Lies [‘92])—when Gino and I were really young we went and got that video at the shop or wherever and took it to Black Label to watch it. We wanted to quit skateboarding. It was so good. But the Henry part is so sick because he just keeps going in circles. Jovontae [Turner] did that too. I just wanted to do something different. My whole fucking skateboard career is based on trying to be different in one way or the other.

11. JASON WANTED HIS ETNIES FA HIGHTOP AD TO FEATURE A PHOTO OF A SHOE HE HAD JACKED OFF ON.
In ‘08 Jason had an FA collab/pro shoe for Etnies and his contract gave him full control over his marketing. Jason first created the "Dill" graffiti art and then conceived the ad with Ryan Sheckler and his Range Rover, which was “kind of genius looking back on it,” according to sources at Etnies. For his third concept, Jason upped the ante. The FA x Etnies shoe was a high top with “Fucking Awesome” around the heel (highly sought after by sneakerheads today). For the shoe’s first ad, Jason had apparently jacked off on the high top, shot photos of the shoe with his semen on it, and sent those to Etnies to run as the ad. Unsure how to proceed, Etnies eventually printed a letter that they wrote to Jason explaining why they couldn’t use his photo and ran that as an ad instead instead. Somewhere at Etnies there is still an ad laid out with a cum-speckled shoe. According to sources at Sole Technologies, “The story became Etnies folklore.”

12. JASON WAS STRAIGHT EDGE.
“We spent a lot of time together in the Black Label van,” Jonas Wray (RIP) said. “Jason was completely against any kind of smoking or alcohol then. Completely. He’d tell you like, ‘You’re fucking stupid if you do that.’ Skip Pronier would be sparking up in the van and little Jason would preach to him. He was just a young spicy kid. He definitely had his own views and his own way of doing things.” Jeremy Wray added, “That’s the way he’s always been. He would have really, really strong opinions on something. And then he would completely 180 and have a really, really strong opinion that was the exact opposite of the one he had a week ago.” At least he’s consistent.

13. JASON ALMOST SWITCH INWARD BIG HEELED THE HUNTINGTON HIGH 7 IN 1992.
From J Wray: “Marcus Wyndham was the only person that had ever done it down a 4-stair. Jason was trying the Wyndham trick down the 7 inside Huntington High. The one with the slippery brick landing inside that hallway. He landed on one perfect but it shot out and he smacked his head really hard. He had a huge lump on his forehead and it knocked him out. He was super dazed. In the footage, you can see him stand up right after but his legs don’t work and he walks right into a trashcan. It would have been such a heavy trick if he made it.”

14. JASON ONCE TURNED DOWN $70K TO APPEAR ON A JAPANESE BILLBOARD SMOKING.
“I got offered $70,000 to be in a cigarette ad a few years back and I turned it down. It was supposed to be on a billboard in Japan. Just me on a billboard smoking a cig. It wasn’t for the brand I smoke. I probably shouldn’t divulge the brand. Actually, fuck it, I don’t care, I won’t get in trouble. It was Winston. I just couldn’t do it. I don’t smoke ‘em, but I probably wouldn’t pass one up if it was in front of me.”

15. JASON PUSHED MONGO.
Jonas Wray (RIP): “Right when we met him he was definitely mongo. That was just the way he felt comfortable. We pushed on him a little bit. Told him like, ‘There’s a better way to do it. It’s gonna be more comfortable.’ But he did have a great switch push after that. At first he was kind of resistant. But he did end up switching over. It was funny because a lot of the clips where he would power push into it they would cut out the mongo pushes. If he needed a power push it would come back.” You can see Jason switch back and forth à la Randy Colvin in the last line of his A1-Meats Dancing in the Dirt (’91) part.

16. JASON WAS TOO NERVOUS TO TALK THE FIRST TIME HE MET TONY HAWK.
“When I was around 14 I went to a contest in Houston. There was a vert ramp but it wasn’t the one on the Skatepark of Houston property. Max Schaaff taught me how to noseslide, half-cab to fakie, and some other basics on the vert ramp. There was no one there. It was just like a few people—Max, Moses Itkonen, Dave Metty, Salman Agah might have been there just hanging out. It wasn’t that big of a vert ramp, but I remember doing my rock to fakies, noseslides to fakie, my little half-cabs and Max Schaaff is teaching me. I’m getting up on the deck and all of a sudden Tony Hawk is just standing above me. He goes (in higher pitched Birdman voice) ‘You should learn how to do feeble-to-fakies. It really helps you get centered on the ramp.’ I’m looking at his face talking to me and then all of the sudden I just turned around and walked away. I was so freaked out that Tony Hawk was talking to me. I couldn’t talk. All I could think was, ‘Holy shit, it’s Tony Hawk’”.

17. JASON’S FIRST NAME IS ACTUALLY DONALD.
As reported in various interviews over the years, Jason’s full name is Donald Jason Dill. Jason’s mother gave him the name but opted later for Jason as Donald was actually Jason's father’s name (Donald SR) and after his father was incarcerated the name didn’t ring the best bells for obvious reasons. Jeremy Wray would still call Jason “Don” in a friendly teasing way but let’s stick with Jason from here on out.  

This article is dedicated to Jonas Wray (RIP) who passed away in April 2021 after helping with research for this article on his good friend Jason. Thanks also to his brother and living water-tower legend Jeremy Wray and Etnies for their help with research and big salute to one of my all-time-favorite skateboarders—Jason Dill. Stay you Jason. Buy FA product here.

Moonlight Sonata

Postscript: Article in Transworld Skateboarding Magazine, May 2, 2007:

Moonlight Sonata

by Mackenzie Eisenhour

For reasons that are difficult to pin down, skateboarding has lost an abnormally large number of its finest practitioners in the most untimely of fashions. People as diverse as Jeff Phillips, Keenan Milton, Phil Shao, Tim Brauch, Kit Erickson, Harold Hunter, Mike Cardona, Pepe Martinez, Justin Pierce, Joe Lopes, Sean Miller, Mike De Geuss, Ruben Orkin, Curtis Hsiang, and so forth-all greats of skateboarding who were lost all too soon. This article will focus on one such loss-that of Pat Brennen-but more so will celebrate what he did bring us during his life on a board in the form of two landmark video parts, most notably his incredible series of lines in Powell’s ninth video, Celebrity Tropical Fish (’91).

After riding for Motobilt Airtool and then a revamped Alva team alongside Ronnie Bertino and Adam McNatt, the Pasadena, California born and raised Pat Brennen wound up on Powell Peralta by early 1991. According to Lance Mountain, “After he skated my mini ramp, I might have talked to someone at Powell. He might have got on through Adam McNatt and the Quartermaster contests, or a little of all of that.”

Almost immediately after earning his spot on the Bones Brigade, Pat made a huge impact with his standout part in Eight (’91), which included a whole Rose Bowl Parade worth of raw street combos, including an impossible over a fire hydrant in a line and a casual manny to 360 flip out. His part showcased his local homegrown spots and stapled him in as one of Powell’s fastest-rising stars and their best hope of fending off the impending war with street-skating-based competitors H-Street and World Industries.

Later that year, with his Eight part still fresh in people’s minds, Brennen put together his masterpiece part to the tunes of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” and simply drew circles around what was considered cutting-edge street skating at the time. Nollieing up to and noseblunt sliding ledges when most were still on curbs and mixing laser flips, Rick flips, and front-foot impossibles into ten-trick lines involving multiple benches and sets of stairs fittingly to the song-skating for the most part in the dark Pasadena nights-Brennen’s CTF part is a must-see to this very day. Closing out with a banger of a late backside 360 shove, Brennen seemed poised to become the reigning street-tech and ledge champion along with the likes of Jason Lee, Mike Carroll, and later Eric Koston.

Friend and later Firm teammate Keith Gruber sums up Pat’s approach to skating: “Pat was generally very focused in his day-to-day skating. He liked to be pushed and benefited from the camaraderie.” However, by Powell’s next video, Hot Batch (’92), Brennen’s part contained only a dozen or so single tricks, and his dominance on a skateboard seemed to have hit the brakes slightly. Lance elaborates: “After his VW van’s engine burned out, he bought a new black Honda Prelude. Slowly, he started to modify it as his interest in street racing began to develop and as his budget permitted. In the early portions of his ‘transition,’ he just had a modified exhaust. In the later days, he removed the passenger seat to eliminate weight.”

Bitten by the bug and adrenaline rush of street-car racing, Pat gradually spent less and less time on his skateboard. He returned briefly to the public eye in a segment of a Firm 411 Industry Profile section in the mid-90s after joining Lance’s company, but that footage would be the last glimpse the collective skateboard world would get of Brennen’s still-impressive talent.

After suffering a car crash in his Prelude in ’96 that resulted in a hospital stay, Pat crashed again in a new car nearly a year later-this time fatally. At 4:00 a.m. on February 1, 1997, Pat Brennen died of head injuries sustained, and one of Pasadena’s all-time greatest gifts to skateboarding was forever lost. According to Lance, with Pat a hometown hero to nearly every skater and friend in the area, after his passing many now proudly wear an Irish clover “Brennen” tattoo in his honor. Rest in peace, Pat.

Pat Brennen by Sherman, TWS Sept. 1991, Vol. 9, No. 9

BITD: Carl Shipman, Extended Interview, April 2010 TWS

Transworld SKATEboarding
Back In the Day:
Full Circle
Carl Shipman

Words Mackenzie Eisenhour
Edited Version Published: TWS April 2010

Scroll down past the image for the extended interview text before it got cut down for the magazine page. —ME

Skateboarding’s early 90’s Brit pop invasion, the one which included gnar boots imports like Rowley, Penny, Mouley and the rest, originally kicked off with 2 years and change of absolute carnage laid down by a young chap from Worsop, England by the name of Carl Shipman. After redefining the possibilities of the front blunt, cementing proper form on kickflips, frontside flips and tre flips, and providing a welcome hand at guiding skateboarding at large out of the XXL mustard/purple crevice in favor of the back-to-basics white tee and blue jeans era, Shipman’s meteoric rise was cut short due to INS woes just as he seemed to be getting warmed up. The following is his take on his two-year reign at the top, his feelings around his early exit, and his ultimate return from exile to the company that brought him Stateside to begin with.

How did you first get hooked up with Stereo?
I went to my first Münster comp with Flip in ‘93.  I was skating the outdoor park, and Jason (Lee) was there cruising around.  I did this frontside flip over the hip, and he came over to me and asked me if I’d mind doing it again.  I was like, “Yeah cool.” I skated in the comp and ended up talking to Jason some more after, and he was basically like, “Look, I’d be stoked if you’d like to come ride for Stereo.”  He told me about the company he and Chris (Pastras) were putting together – what they were doing, what they were about, the whole vibe sounded absolutely amazing—it just appealed. The Flip guys were cool about it, actually really cool about it in retrtospect, so I just went for it.

How was the first trip out to the States?
I’d just turned 18, got my own flight out, seriously not knowing anything, just trying to find my way around, and somehow got to San Francisco (Laughs). I came from a mining village in England, like rough, basically just drinking in pubs and stuff like that, and it was serious culture shock for me. It was f—king crazy. But once I got situated, I just didn’t want to leave, I absolutely loved it. I met the team, like (Mike) Daher and (Matt) Rodriguez; Ethan (Fowler) came on a bit later, and they were just absolutely amazing skateboarders to be around. Everyone just clicked.

Run down A Visual Sound (’94).
To me, it was monumental as far as video making went. Basically, you’d see a lot of the skateboard videos were you had your section, did your skating, and that was it. There was a lot of pressure involved with filming a part. But with Visual Sound it was basically about depicting the whole lifestyle you were living – like, let’s go to the coffee shop and have a coffee; or we’ll have a beer and then we’ll shoot some pool and then maybe we’ll go skate. It was about portraying the lives we chose to live. The skateboarding in that video, for me, is truly what skateboarding is about. It’s not necessarily about the hardest tricks. It was about the smooth lines, the style, and the feeling that got you wanting to ride a skateboard in the first place. There was never any pressure. It was just meant to be. They added the jazz, the still photos, the Super 8, and everything – it was just this whole package. Sometimes I put it in now and think, Jesus, I’m still absolutely stoked to have been a part of that, man. 

How about the Hubba (Hideout) front blunt? It was pretty much the gnarliest trick that had been done on that thing at that point right?
At that point, I suppose.  Now you see people just doing nollie heel crooked grinds down it.  They treat it like it’s a curb now, but it’s not.  It’s a huge ledge, over waist high, and rough as shit. That thing seriously broke me.  I remember sliding out and nearly smacking my head, just freaking out, landing on it a number of times. The make I seriously rolled out fully crouched. I wish I had filmed it.  I wish it were in the video, but I didn’t care at the time.  It was just that was the way it was for me. When I saw it on the Thrasher cover, I was so shocked. I’ve got it framed now.  It’s definitely an honor to be on a magazine cover like that.

Break down the Visa Incident.
I went to the Slam City contest in Vancouver.  I remember telling Deluxe at the time, “This could get sketchy; I don’t have a work Visa.”  When Canada let me in, it was sort of like, “Ah piece of cake; no problem.” I skated the comp, and on the way back, they just pulled me to one side and I remember seeing Drake Jones and the Real guys, just waving at me, going through passport control, and I’m thinking, I’ll be with you in a minute. Six hours of interrogation later, I realized that what I had long dreaded was now happening. They sent me back to England, and I remember having twenty dollars in my pocket getting off the plane thinking, “Shit, this is it, I’m never going to be in America again. It’s over.” When I look back on it, everything happens for a reason.  But at the time it completely messed up skateboarding for me. I was back in England for nearly two years, and it was hard to get all the footage that they needed or even get people to shoot photos.  It just didn’t work.

How did you feel about your Tincan Folklore (’96) part?
It was filmed in like two or three days of skating.  It was so rushed.  It wasn’t close to the quality skating that I wanted to be putting across. When I saw it I was pretty bummed. It was a tough time because I missed being out there.  I missed actually skating with the guys and trying to push myself. It was a tough time. I felt like my life had been taken from me.

Yeah, man.  I can only imagine.  You’re basically given this taste of your dream; only to have it stripped right back.
Yeah.  It messed me up with the other sponsors (DC, Droors, etc…) as well. Basically I started getting pissed off and thinking, shit I’m stuck out here, and they expect me to get all this coverage. I had people coming up to me saying, “You blew it.  You should’ve stayed in America,” but they didn’t understand it.  I couldn’t be in America. Eventually I just started hitting the Pub.  Honestly, I look at it all now, and it was probably the best thing that happened to me. I was already getting a bit wild before the Visa ban.  I met my wife here; she sorted me out (Laughs).  I settled down and basically enjoyed my life in a different way. But it was always there, in the back of my mind, the California Dream.  

How did you end up getting back on?
Dune (Pastras) invited my wife and I down to an art show he was having in London around ‘05.  Jason was there too; it was so amazing to see them after all those years. I couldn’t stay that long because I had work commitments, but it felt like we hadn’t missed a day. We kept in touch after that and eventually when they started up the Classics Division in ‘08, Chris asked me if I wanted to be a part of it. I don’t know how to explain it. It just blew my mind that they’d come back and say, “We’d like for you to come and skate for this again.” It was like all the same excitement came rushing back like I was 18. You know, everybody grows up and has kids, moves on to their own thing. But it’s like I’ve been out skating tonight, and I still have that same passion for it. Actually it’s almost stronger now.  It’s not about how good you have to be or any of that.  It’s just about how good it feels. That’s really all it ever should be.

B-Sides Interview: Jeff Grosso on Street League

This was Jeff Grosso's interview for a Street League article that appeared in TWS last November. It never ran based on the former Editor's decision so I wanted to post it here. I'm neither here nor there when it comes to this issue but I do think the conversation is an important one. Here's Jeff.

ME: What's your overall take on Street League? Have you watched one?
Jeff: I’ve watched a few of them, or tried to watch a few of them.

What’s your general takeaway?
(Laughing.) The skateboarders are all insanely good and the skateboarding is amazing but as far as viewing it as a skateboarder it’s like watching fucking paint dry (Laughs.) I don’t know, what’s your take on it?

I don’t know. I watch them. It’s kind of like watching golf.
Watching any skateboarding, unless you’re totally into it, unless you’re a completely crazed skateboarder, you can last maybe 20 minutes. It’s like going to a baseball game or watching golf like you said. Unless you’re totally into it it’s like, “Okay, that was cool. Is Law and Order on now?”

I guess maybe this might be easier—what would you say the differences are between Street League and the major contests back in the ‘80s hey day? Obviously those were vert, but aside from that?
Well, I’m loath to say that they took the flow out of it. Because, like I said, I have the utmost respect for all the skateboarders in it and stuff. But there’s been this active move in contest skating like that it seems like. You’re talking about a world I really know nothing about, because I don’t skateboard that way. But I mean it’s reduced down to gymnastics. I guess that’s great for some people or whatever. I guess if you’re the dude in the contest you figure out what trick gets the most points, and then you get that trick dialed, and then your name is Nyjah Huston.

Then you take home a hundred grand in the process.
Yeah, and then you say silly things about women (Laughs). I’m not a big fan of taking style, spontaneity, and flow out of skateboarding. I think that’s what makes skateboarding so amazing. And putting a number to a trick scale, I mean it makes it easier to judge I guess, but I don’t know.

American sports in general love stats. So this quantifying tricks is almost like getting skateboarding ready for that mass-market maybe?
Yeah. It’s kind of the final nail in the death coffin—as far as I know it. But like I said, I really don’t know anything. I really truly don’t. And I really don’t want to. But when I turn on my TV on Sunday morning and I’m trying to get behind it, and check it out, and be a fan boy—you just kind of go, “Oh man. What did they do to it?” Like you have this big beautiful course that they only ride a couple of sections of. It makes it super hard for someone like Dennis (Busenitz) or someone who’s real flowy. I don’t know. Look, the great thing about skateboarding is that there’s room for everybody I guess. If that’s what you want to do, go for it.

I do think it’s funny that the dude, that tool that started it all, turned around and was like, “I’m doing this because ‘screw the X Games’ and I’m all about skateboarding.” The second that he loses his backing, or whatever the scenario was, he goes and sells it to the X Games. Because he came up with gymnastics theory or whatever. But whatever, I’m not a big fan of the whole politics of it and I don’t even profess to know much but the whole thing is just kind of goony.

It’s really neat to turn on the TV and see all these incredibly awesome talented dudes on TV, but at what cost exactly. What does it do for skateboarding? It gets you into this bigger philosophical argument.

I could play devils advocate I guess—Alex Olson was saying that as cheesy as it is, it could sort of be like Police Academy IV or Back to the Future where some kid might see it, get interested and then dig deeper. Like it could be a gateway?
Sure. Totally. It’s like viewing Animal Chin or something and going like, “Oh, this is skateboarding.” And it was, it is or whatever, but there was just way more going on than just “searching for fun” (Laughs.). But if it gets you there, cool. I guess whatever gets you there is okay.

What about the prize money? A hundred grand is a lot of money, no?
Is it? Compared to what? I don’t know. It’s not the direction that I really care to see skateboarding go in. But you know, I’m an old bitter dude, who likes the grassrootsy trying to build it up thing. But whatever, you can come up with some sort of format and sell it to a company like ESPN, or CBS, or NBC, or Fox or whoever the fuck. The Ted Turner Network. Get Oprah to back it. You’re selling the youth market. Fine and dandy. There’s room for everybody to line their pockets I guess.

It’s a wonderful opportunity for the guys that get invited to it I guess. Like, “Oh, we’re gonna pick our guys and these will be the guys that we back.”

It’s a bit exclusive?
Yeah. And then you have people that skate in that contest who aren’t even trying, they’re just there to get the small check because it keeps them going on and on. I can’t blame them, I’d probably do the same thing like, “I’m not gonna win this thing. I’ll fly in late Friday night, I’ll take my runs Saturday morning, collect my check and I’ll be done with it.”

Broad strokes, what impact would you say Street League has on skateboarding and the skateboard industry? To you, is it a positive impact or a negative one?
Probably neither. I’d say it’s kind of a moot point. It just doesn’t matter. It’s not really representative of the industry at all.

Does it really carry any weight? I guess if you’re trying to keep a set of Nike’s on your feet, or you’re trying to keep Monster Energy drink happy. For the individual skateboarder competing in the thing—yeah, it probably means everything. It’s what bankrolls him to stay a pro skateboarder and pay his fucking mortgage and live out in the bus with the rest of his buddies when he’s not doing Street League. Does it have any kind of bearing on anything? Not really.

Alex (Olson) does have a point. For a seven or eight-year-old watching cartoons on a Sunday morning it’s brilliant. You see that, you see P-Rod and you go, “Yeah, I want to be P-Rod”. That’s great and then maybe that kid gets into it and falls in love with it and has the same experiences like all of the rest of us did. Whatever gets you there.

I look at it from the perspective of, is it exciting and fun to watch? And yeah, there’s a little bit of a ramp up, and then someone does something completely wild.

The fact that we’re even paying it any lip service means that it’s winning. Whether I say it sucks or I say it rules, Dyrdek just bought another fucking ridiculous car. And can collect twenty more stupid hats that he can wear sideways on his head, and not skateboard. How much riding are you really doing dude? There are skateboarders and there are people who skateboard. Street League to me seems more indicative of people who skateboard making money off of skateboarding rather than skateboarders doing it for themselves. I guess that’s my takeaway from the whole thing. Is it neat and fun and all of that stuff. I guess on one level it is. But on another level—you might as well just put up a Wal-Mart banner and say, “Join the Army”.

Jeff nosepick in TWS, circa 1990. Photo: O.

I think they already did all that.   
Yeah (Laughs.) Just consume more people. You don’t need to care what you consume, just consume more. Oh, we’re selling toxic energy drinks to fucking ten-year-olds. Are we part of the problem or are we part of the solution. It gets you into a philosophical debate that no one really wants to have because we’re all complicit. We’re all fucking guilty. And that makes us sad and not like ourselves (Laughs.) But is anybody going to change. Is anybody going to stand up and fight the power? I doubt it. Because this was all bought and sold years and years ago.

This all goes back to the Big 5 and the Rocco wars. We all bought into Rocco’s lie, like, “Dude, I’m one of you. Be with me because those guys aren’t skateboarders.” The biggest, the best, and the brightest all bought into the lie and they all got their asses handed to them. And where’s Rocco now. He’s on a golf course somewhere laughing his ass off with a huge bank account. Shame on us for wanting to believe in the great Messiah. It was a lie then and it’s a lie now.

The Messiah will not be appearing at Street League?
(Laughs.) Yeah. It basically sucks, because if I bash it, if I say ugly things—I’m basically talking shit about people I highly respect and think the world of. They’re just doing what they have to do to stay in the game and follow their dreams and their passions. And that’s a wonderful thing but at what fucking cost.

You watch any of these contests and the guy’s got his energy drink squeegee in his hand and he’s taking a drink on camera. It’s all so scripted.

I guess they have water in Monster cans. I do think that's a bit much. So to the kid at home it looks like the dude is pounding Monster when he’s actually drinking water.
Of course, I drink that crap because I’m an idiot. They’re not, in the middle of trying to conquer course B or whatever, it’s just not happening. But that’s all part of playing the game and getting paid. I’m not slighting any of them for taking the checks. Lord knows I would too. They have families, they have careers and they’re pursuing their dreams. Fucking good on you, this is America. And at the end of the day your not really hurting anybody that much. It’s Devo, Freedom of Choice. If you don’t know that consuming large quantities of energy drinks is bad for your health or that everybody is out to get you—whether it’s your money or your fucking attention or whatever, then you’re not going to go very far in life here.

I guess it’s a good premise for an article, “Is it good, is it bad?” A bigger question is, “Fucking how did we get here man?” How did we get so in the back seat of our own shit? These contests don’t even matter. It’s not even about P-Rod winning, or Nyjah winning another one, or whether or not Chris (Cole) is gonna step up to bat, or “Where the fuck is Malto man? Come on Malto!” (Laughs.)

(Laughs.)
Whatever, I’m a big fan of Malto. I want to see Malto take it. He’s a beautiful kid. He has a beautiful smile and he’s totally stylish, so let’s give one to Malto. But how did we become so secondary in the process? It’s not about us. They probably spend more money building the course then they do in the pro purse. Only to tear it down after their 45 minutes on TV so that I can be told to buy a Chevy or a Prius. Go green America!

I think the bigger, better question. In the 35/37 years I’ve been doing this, how did we go from where we were—from being this infant who didn’t know any better to somewhat learning the ropes, to this.

Wasn’t this all happening with something like Disney’s Skateboard Mania shows in the ‘70s with Duane Peters? Has it just gone full circle?
Yeah. On a different level. Yeah I guess. Skateboard Mania was trying to present skateboarding in a show type atmosphere, like Cirque de Soleil or whatever so they layman, the dude on the street could wrap his head around what these kids were doing on this insane new prepubescent activity. Like it’s not really a sport, it’s not really an art. We don’t really know how to define it so we’ll bring it to you people instead. But this is different in the sense that it quantifies it. How do you decide who’s “best” at it?

Well now they can tell you who was the best. It doesn’t matter about style or form. This trick was executed and it was harder than that thing. I don’t know. I don’t street skate. Maybe the street skaters love that format.

Whatever works. Fucking great. But really what does Street League give back to skateboarding? I know it takes a lot. I’m honestly asking I don’t know.

I guess it provides a decent income for a select few and then provides incredible entertainment for the rest of us apparently.
(Laughs.) Do they do anything with all that good will? Does Dyrdek still build Street plazas and hate on transition. Like I said, it’s not me trying to bash on it, but at the end of the day, when you tune in—and I fucking love everything about skateboarding. I’ll watch a fucking slalom race if I have to and that’s like watching paint dry too—but it’s like we had this wonderful opportunity and this was the best we could do with it? I don’t have a solution on how you make it better or anything. But it just kind of seems like we sold our soul. We sold our souls just to get scraps at the table. I mean, you’ve got golfers on the PGA tour that are ranked 116^th and they’re making a couple of hundred thousand per tournament. It’s just like, “Eh. Fuck. This is what it all turned into?” I guess that’s great. But it’s not really my trip. If I was 18 though,, maybe I would be clocking in on it.

Get your switch double 360 flip together.
Yeah (Laughs.) Maybe. Like I said, I’m a bitter old dude with very limited knowledge of the whole landscape. Still a fan though. Every time one comes on TV and I know about it I still tune in. I hope that helped you. Go Malto.