90s Vignettes
STUPID
“HAHAHAHA! I remember that!”
- Bo Turner.
- Bo Turner.
We were oblivious that the white dressing wrapped around Kareem Campbell’s elbow was the result of him rolling a van a week prior. Steve Rocco had sent him and Shiloh Greathouse, both yet to own driving licenses, in a brand new Toyota to meet Rodney, Dune and Jason Lee in Texas. Unfortunately, Kareem fell asleep at the wheel some where in El Paso, flipped the van and sprayed the highway behind them with the
1991 World Industries tour product it was stuffed with.
We had saved enough money for a two week holiday to Florida. Skateboarding was evolving at a rapid rate. Clothing was expanding to enormous sizes while wheels were shrinking rapidly. If told a year before that shaped boards and concave would soon be extinct, people wouldn’t have believed it. We needed to be closer to this fast changing landscape than middle England.
The global brainwashing of Rocco’s genius marketing (and sometimes not so genius product) had anaesthetised us. We find this out when a brand new 101 Gabriel Rodriguez breaks in half on day one. Hypnotised by Rocco’s spell, this was seen as only a minor setback and we blew our entire budget, buying almost everything featured in that years World summer catalog during our two week stay.
1991 World Industries tour product it was stuffed with.
We had saved enough money for a two week holiday to Florida. Skateboarding was evolving at a rapid rate. Clothing was expanding to enormous sizes while wheels were shrinking rapidly. If told a year before that shaped boards and concave would soon be extinct, people wouldn’t have believed it. We needed to be closer to this fast changing landscape than middle England.
The global brainwashing of Rocco’s genius marketing (and sometimes not so genius product) had anaesthetised us. We find this out when a brand new 101 Gabriel Rodriguez breaks in half on day one. Hypnotised by Rocco’s spell, this was seen as only a minor setback and we blew our entire budget, buying almost everything featured in that years World summer catalog during our two week stay.
From our hotel room, a golden Daytona beach and it’s monster truck traffic stretched for miles in either direction, while directly below, preparations for the Annual Hawaiian Tropic bikini contest were being finalized. These attractions were of little interest to us with only two weeks to meet local skaters and we head straight to Stone edge skatepark. A dude with a head of short dreadlocks weaves at speed through the parking lot and ollie boardslides the front fender of a parked car without a thought. We look at each other in disbelief at what we just witnessed.
“What’s up dudes? I’m Clyde.” He introduces himself as we skate up, talking to us like we’re old friends.
“You gotta wear pads in there yo! It’s eight bucks entry too. Fuck that!” He bellows a loud raspy laugh.
Our Floridian holiday is like nothing we’ve experienced before. Every spot we skate has a story about ‘What Bo Turner did’ and Clyde (Singleton) hijacks our trip with his infectious laugh, taxing a spot in our room and board sliding every rail in sight including the Daytona Sports centre double kink. Another local, Kevin, uses his Mom’s purple sedan to taxi us from Orlando to Jacksonville and everywhere in between. Blasting Bad Religion and Operation Ivy on loop, he religiously collects us each morning and shows off his skills behind the wheel, one time driving through the bushes of a strip mall parking lot and another, taking us on a terrifying fire truck chase up the hard shoulder of the freeway to beat the gridlock traffic. If all this wasn’t enough excitement for three 17 year old kids from small town England, we are blessed with the brand new, Altamonte Springs skatepark and our trip randomly being at the same time as the 1991 World Industries tour.
Demo day at Altamonte is blisteringly hot. The blacktop surface cooks under a Floridian sun, as does a sweaty John Montesi back lipping the street course rail. A white van shows up an hour late and decants Rodney Mullen, Shiloh, Kareem, Jason Lee and Dune into the afternoon heat. The crowd all vie for shade in the shed covering the spine mini ramp that Clyde, Caine Gayle, Scott Conklin, Bo Turner and Dave Duren skate with the World guys. Only faded memories exist of the demo, but Bo’s ramp shaking frontside stalefish disaster reverts are still as vivid as him staring me down when I yell too loud at Kareem’s frontside bigspin melon disaster.
“Shut up.” his words squash my excitement instantly as his giant frame casts a terrifying shadow over me.
“It wasn’t that good.” He concludes.
Nodding agreeably, I heed his kind advice and spectate quietly.
As the sun sets, the World guys begin an unimpressive product toss of ‘Stupid’ logo t-shirts that for all we know, may not even be World products, and taking one look at the ‘xs’ size tags, we ball them up and hurl them back with gusto, one of which, subsequently hits Jason Lee in the head.
“What’s up dudes? I’m Clyde.” He introduces himself as we skate up, talking to us like we’re old friends.
“You gotta wear pads in there yo! It’s eight bucks entry too. Fuck that!” He bellows a loud raspy laugh.
Our Floridian holiday is like nothing we’ve experienced before. Every spot we skate has a story about ‘What Bo Turner did’ and Clyde (Singleton) hijacks our trip with his infectious laugh, taxing a spot in our room and board sliding every rail in sight including the Daytona Sports centre double kink. Another local, Kevin, uses his Mom’s purple sedan to taxi us from Orlando to Jacksonville and everywhere in between. Blasting Bad Religion and Operation Ivy on loop, he religiously collects us each morning and shows off his skills behind the wheel, one time driving through the bushes of a strip mall parking lot and another, taking us on a terrifying fire truck chase up the hard shoulder of the freeway to beat the gridlock traffic. If all this wasn’t enough excitement for three 17 year old kids from small town England, we are blessed with the brand new, Altamonte Springs skatepark and our trip randomly being at the same time as the 1991 World Industries tour.
Demo day at Altamonte is blisteringly hot. The blacktop surface cooks under a Floridian sun, as does a sweaty John Montesi back lipping the street course rail. A white van shows up an hour late and decants Rodney Mullen, Shiloh, Kareem, Jason Lee and Dune into the afternoon heat. The crowd all vie for shade in the shed covering the spine mini ramp that Clyde, Caine Gayle, Scott Conklin, Bo Turner and Dave Duren skate with the World guys. Only faded memories exist of the demo, but Bo’s ramp shaking frontside stalefish disaster reverts are still as vivid as him staring me down when I yell too loud at Kareem’s frontside bigspin melon disaster.
“Shut up.” his words squash my excitement instantly as his giant frame casts a terrifying shadow over me.
“It wasn’t that good.” He concludes.
Nodding agreeably, I heed his kind advice and spectate quietly.
As the sun sets, the World guys begin an unimpressive product toss of ‘Stupid’ logo t-shirts that for all we know, may not even be World products, and taking one look at the ‘xs’ size tags, we ball them up and hurl them back with gusto, one of which, subsequently hits Jason Lee in the head.
Darren is the author of Perro Callejero (Stray Dog) and a new collection of ‘90s vignettes.
Follow him on Instagram @daz_dot_com to read more.
Follow him on Instagram @daz_dot_com to read more.