Thirteen Hours at the Bro-Bowl

   Thirteen hours of shooting time lapsed photos at the Bro-Bowl in downtown Tampa with Lance. That is how I spent one summer Sunday in August 2009. From sunrise just around 7A.M. until sunset just after 8P.M. Lance had set our shooting location just off to one side of the bowl, under some large trees, parallel to the snakerun that led into the bowl - just before the end of the run using a wide angle lens shot looking straight down to view the entire bowl. There we sat, on our skateboards - on the tree roots with our cameras on their tripods, watching the sunrise over the old graffiti splattered worn cement bowl, including the city scape off behind us to the right. I had only four hours of sleep and I knew the day was going to be long and slow. I knew we would see action - just didn't know when or what kind of action the day would bring. The sunrise at the bowl with the city in the background was amazing. I knew no matter, it was to be a good day.

   After the first hour or so there, the itch to skate was kicking in for the both of us. So Lance and I started taking turns cruising about the bowl. Blasting early morning down the snakerun, carving the walls of the bowl up around the few puddles which remained from the previous days rain storms. And even on this Sunday - the threat of rain would again show. Dark blue-gray rolling clouds would pass us over head throughout the day. We would hear great bellied laughter, rumbling of thunder off in the distance over the city. But only drizzles of sprinkles came. No heavy rains this day. Some time about half past 8A.M. (I think), maybe an hour or so later, I slipped out on a move and my board rolled, fully submerged into the biggest, deepest puddle in the bowl. End of the day, at the beginning of the day.

   The morning moved slow. The clouds passed quickly over the city. When they would break to free the sky, the bowl would brighten up with an inviting glow - come schralp! Cruise. Ah yes, as I've said many times, city streets - cruise, four wheels and a wooden plank, an absolute freedom only a great few truly understand. As the morning continued and the warmth of the day krept on, the bum sleeping under the roof of the old unused locked up bathrooms awoke but stayed in the shade of the roof. He stayed under that rooftop for most of the morning before moving on to nowhere. Another bum came along collecting aluminium cans to recycle and make a small bit of money. Lance and I swapped good mornings with the kind sir and we all smiled and wished good spirits, good journies.

   Still later on into this long Sunday morn, as bums and random couples stroll by, another photographer, his assistant, and their model - a blonde chick with an Element deck showed up for their little photo shoot in the bowl. As random or odd as it may seem - a model photo shoot in the Bro-Bowl isn't so uncommon these days. This type of thing has actually been happening off and on for sometime now. They were done and gone within ten minutes. From late morning to early afternoon few random folks came and went. Short stays, lingering cruise lines around the bowl, over head passing clouds with drizzle break way to let the sun through to finish drying the puddles.

   At some point in the slow warm late morning I fell asleep on the sidewalk that runs down alongside the snakerun, across from Lance where the cameras were set up. I slept Dharma bum style for a half an hour or so - according to Lance. It was only early into the afternoon, and we knew Robert and Shannon still wouldn't be coming for a couple of hours. Hunger was starting to come on. I had a taste for Chinese, some white rice with vegetables and tofu. Lance was keen on the idea of Chinese as well. Another hour or so and we made a phone call to Robert to pick up the Chinese food. We still had yet another hour or so before Robert and Shannon and the food would arrive, so I went ahead on to a local grocery store and bought a gallon of green tea with honey and a bag of unsalted blue corn chips with jalepeno hummus.

   By the middle of the afternoon and later on, the session livened up with the arrivals of Robert and Shannon, Tre, Kevin, Tim, Sean, a brief appearance from LBK, and the event of three cars getting broken into. The clouds broke away for the last time and opened the sky to the sun. The day got warmer with nice refreshing breezes passing through the city. Just as I did in the late morning, I had an afternoon sleep on that same sidewalk along the snakerun. Another half hour or so. Wake up, guzzle some green tea, grab the skateboard and cruise fast. Then it's back to my post at the cameras. Just a little more than a few hours to go. With a day this long at the bowl, you would think one wouldn't make it without beer or weed. I had no weed and only drank two beers the whole day. I had no cravings or desire for any of it really. It felt good that way.

   Evening was now creeping in, the sun hung low in the sky. The evening rays peered through - between the buildings out to the bowl. The crowd of friends and others started to thin out now, but as for me and Lance, we still had a couple of hours or so. For us the day would not be done until full sunset - dark. And just as that Sunday morning, the evening moved on slow.

Tallahassee

   I got off work on a Tuesday evening at 7P.M., with my truck already packed with my full stock of gear, I headed back east a bit into the suburbs of Bloomingdale to pick up Josh. We loaded up his gear and started our trek to north Florida. First I had to gas up the truck and Josh wanted to grab a quick meal. When we hit the gas station, Josh ran across the parking lot to a burger joint. After I gassed up the Ranger and picked up a couple of "tall boys" and apples for the road, I ran over to meet him. As we waited for his food, we took notice that besides us there was only three other people inside the place. Behind us to the left was some high school couple - a boy and a girl - they were dressed as if they were on some prom night, high class dinner date or some jazz. A fancy table cloth was draped over with lit candles and they had wine glasses filled with nothing more than sparkling cider. To hell with that! Give me the real wine. Behind us to the right, across the dinning area was some older guy holding a video camera, filming the high school couple. Josh and I agreed to the conclusion he could be one of their dad's. No matter, it was still odd.

   By the time we got on the interstate, it was already 8:30P.M. and it was going to be a four hour drive. I had just worked a nine hour day at the photolab, which happened to include me chasing down a thief, a pretty big - six foot five thief - and retrieve a thirteen hundred dollar camera and lens kit he swiped. (But that's a completely different story). North bound on interstate 75 at a cruising speed of seventy-five. Tall boys and apples with tea, good old classic rock jams for the ears, grand philosophical conversations about life and skateboarding. Then it happened. A bit north of Ocala, about two - two and a half hours into our journey, the engine just loses power and cuts off. The battery light comes on the dash gauge, my dash lights work, headlights are working fine, even the radio is still jamming away. I mash down on the gas pedal, still no action. As the truck coasts down, I pull off the highway onto the right shoulder of the road. I put the gear into park and the old truck cranks, starting right up with full power. At first for a short while it's running good, but as we hit the rolling hills of I-75 between Ocala and Lake City, the Ranger starts shifting harsh on the inclines mostly yet also at times on the declines. A little while more down the highway the engine loses power again, it lost power a total of four times. Every time the engine would cut off I would just shift into neutral and coast [in the middle lane] and that old truck would crank back up and keep on. After we made it north of Lake City and onto interstate 10 west all the way into Tallahassee, the Ranger ran solid. Not one problem. 

   Thirty minutes after midnight we were pulling into the driveway at Phil and Matt's little block house. We unloaded all of our gear into the house, sat on the couch and cracked some brews, talking of our highway adventure and catching up with each other on the old grand times. An hour or so passed. Matt, Josh, and I were pretty hammered but even so, we decided to roll up to the Tallahassee skatepark for a cruise. We were the only three folks there. At first roll into the bank, I hit some kind of chunk of plastic [or something], locking up my front wheels, giving me a nice big flatspot and sending me jumping forward to run out of possible disaster. [First night in town - I already had my truck fucking up stuck in my head, now this, a big old flatspot on a new set of wheels.] I thought to myself, shit man - I don't want this next couple of days to go like this. I want these days to be the goodtimes. I pushed myself to pull myself out of that dirty funk. I knew I was there to skate and I wanted to skate. It needed to be O.G. It needed to be on the streets, raw and pure. Matt and I made a few moves that night yet for the most part we both were over the park. Josh - on the flipside of things - was ripping. I think it was sometime between 3 or 3:30A.M. when we left the park and headed back to the pad. Josh and I had to sleep on the floor in Matt's room. Josh had Matt's sleeping bag and I had a dusty old brown blanket from my folk's garage. I hit the floor wrapped in that old blanket and fell asleep almost instantly, thinking after nine hours at the photolab, a four hour drive, then booze and skating, I know I'll sleep well. I went to sleep that early morning knowing we would skate a full day that Wednesday. We woke Wednesday morning around 11A.M., a bit later than expected, but the sleep was well earned. I was the last one to walk out to the living room - to find Phil's grandparents were in town for a visit as well. I brought fresh fruits with me, I had bananas, kiwis, and avocados. We had tea and fruit breakfasts (sometimes with beer). About noon time we skated from the house, up the block and bombed a hill - that led us to an intersection at the halfway point of another hill. So we walked up the rest of the way to the top of the hill. We had to wait for the traffick light to turn green on the other side. Bombed that hill. When we got to the bottom, we were basically just outside of the cracked out side of the neighborhood. That's when some random crackhead broad walked up on us. She seemed to take kind to Josh. We were talking about going to get food and she was telling us there was a soup kitchen type of spot just around the corner giving out free meals to the homeless, and that we could eat there. Josh said to her that they probably wouldn't have sausage mcmuffins and that's what he wanted. She answered back with, aw baby you have to buy that. Them things are a dollar, you must be rich. She walked with us for a block or so and was drinking a can of Joose - it's an energy drink with alcohol. She told Josh it was her eighth one and it was only about 12:30P.M. We walked back up the hill, the rest of the way to the house and then piled into Matt's truck to go eat before we skated. We dined at this real jam Asian cafe spot, it's called Tans, it was proper for sure, and pretty cheap to boot.

   By now it was the middle of the afternoon and we were headed to a little ditty of a warm up spot that Matt and Josh knew of. It was an old abandoned small warehouse with a narrow width, long loading dock. Some other skaters had built a cinderblock ledge with angle iron, there was a real small flat rail, and the loading dock bank was just right for doing tricks into. It had a pretty big crack at the top and that basically made a small gap to pop over, but the landing ground of the parking lot was not so good, quite rocky - full of cracks, it was like an Ohio memory. Once again Josh threw down on a warm up sesh. From there we went more into the downtown area, and the Florida State University campus. We hit up these real good banks on campus and just as we were warming up, we got the boot. Kicked out by a security guy on a four-wheeler. This is something every skater knows how to handle - so we moved on. We found another warm up spot with two manny pads and manhole covers for good flat gaps. We left Matt's truck parked and just cruised the streets on our boards - bombing hills and hitting any little random obsticle or terrain to pull off a move. Matt led us up a few sets of three stairs into some little courtyard area outside of some official city building which also happens to be across the street from city hall. The spot had nice low brick ledges all over. We all threw down quite a few good moves there - all while some debate or something was going on inside and was being broadcast through loudspeakers. There were people outside smoking cigarettes on the second floor balcony. They didn't pay us any mind. Back to bombing street hills and back to the truck to again move on to the next location. 

   Matt drove us back across a chunk of town to another bank spot he and Josh (again) knew of. It was basically in the backyard of the house where Phil used to rent, and next to an abortion clinic. And yes there were protesters with signs outside in the parking lot. This was the spot I liked best. It had almost all the elements of any skate spot all in one - it had perfect smooth ground, it had rough patches with cracks and holes, there were rocks, low hanging tree limbs just over the banks, and the banks were perfect height and steepness yet made of pebble rock. So the banks also had smoothed out and rough patches. If you landed a trick wrong, you'd either stick and get tossed or slide out like it was ice. The three of us seemed to have had the day's best session there. The camera gear came out and sequences were captured. One from Matt, about half a dozen with Josh, and with Josh using my equipment - I even got in a couple of good [slam] sequences. Unfortunately due to the sun setting and loss of light, I didn't get the sequence or even the trick at all. I did however shred my left hand open. Hell, it's not a real session unless blood is drawn. Exhausted, dirty, sore, and a bit bloody, hungry as hell, we headed back to that small block house but this wouldn't be the night's end. Barge the house after such a hearty grand day with friends. Even before I wash the dirt and dried crusted blood from my sore hands, I go straight into the kitchen into the refridgerator, pour a glass of green tea and grab my left over mongolian tofu and rice from Tans cafe. Straight from the fridge without heating it up - I devour my plate of food. Now bring on the night filled with brew, music, friends, conversations, and the film Kids. Random chill photos were taken to steal the souls and memories. Another crazy boozed late night for the three of us [and it was a Wednesday night]. It was close to 4A.M. when we went to sleep, so it was definitely going to be a late Thursday morning rise. Again, it was around 11A.M. when we got up, [to again greet Phil's grandparents]. Matt, Josh, and I just sat on the couches in the living room watching Goodtimes on the television being complete wasted piles of shit for the early part of the afternoon while Phil, his girlfriend, and his grandparents went for lunch. We really were also waiting for Phil to get back. Yes. Phil made a guest cameo and not only came along for the sesh but he drove. Back to the downtown and FSU campus areas we were headed. 

   I loaded my camera gear with the boards into the trunk of Phil's four door Honda and we were off. We really didn't cruise around downtown. We stuck mainly to rolling around the college campus hitting up random hills to bomb, ledge and manny pad spots, and we finally did get the chance to cruise those nice banks that we got kicked out from on the first day. It was a good mellow cruise around campus session with good old friends. We all made moves and we missed a few as well. The camera gear didn't make it out of the trunk of Phil's car that late Thursday afternoon, but oh well, it wasn't that kind of session anyway. Evening was creeping on and Josh and I had to make our journey east on I-10 and south on I-75, four hours back to Tampa. We got back to the house, loaded all of our gear back up into the cab of the Ranger, and chilled for a short spell having a brew with friends before getting back on that old lone highway. We gave our last days cheers for the road just around 6P.M., said see ya later to our friends and backed out of the driveway into the street.

   There was one more mission Josh and I had to take care of before we hit the road. We had to go to his brother's apartment and pick up a little Yamaha scooter. We loaded it up into the bed of my truck, tied it down with rope Matt let us use, and hit a gas station. We were back on our way home. We got on the interstate 10 about 7:30P.M. and the Ranger ran solid the journey home to Tampa. We stopped off somewhere in Lake City for a dinner of sandwiches at some dive of a sandwich shop, on the highway we saw a gnarly accident in the north bound lane of I-75 with a flipped over car and emergency rescue vehicles, we listened to Hip-Hop, had grand conversations about the goodtimes we do live.

   I dropped Josh off - we unloaded the scooter - at his parent's house about 11:30P.M., and by midnight I was pulling into the driveway at my folk's.

Lazy Sundays

   Lazy Sundays, late mornings on through the afternoon, sometimes even into the evenings. Dusk, the loss of light. Dark shadows loom to ruin photos. This was our own Sunday old school tradition in the workings. The foundation included myself, Lance Robson, Robert Bain, Shannon Bruffett, Troy, Chris Knight (a lot of the time), Tre, and so many others, both among the named and the random nameless. These were our Sundays at the historical Bro-Bowl in downtown Tampa. Cases of beer were drank, cook outs were just as common and ghettoblasters supplied various soundtracks. From Hip-Hop to Punk and Metal to Reggae. Fast cruising lines down the snakerun - jamming around the top of the bowl and carving back down the back wall up over the humps to carve back into it once more around. All the while holding a can of beer with a certain respect to Chet Childress. A plank of wood and four small wheels really is an absolute freedom that many will never truly understand. But by now it's been almost a month since the last session. Well, I should say the last session I've been to or know of.

   We had been doing these Sunday sessions for a few months, but this one Sunday - the vibe felt different. There was something that felt important about this particular Sunday's sesh. I was stoked LBK was going to be up there because that coming Wednesday he was hitting the road headed back out west, to Santa Cruz. Of course most of the regular crew was there. I was more into photographer mode than skate mode that day. Which worked out well because I was able to get a few good shots of LBK, and Robert was having one of the best skate days he's had in some time. I racked in a few sequences and stills with him. My favourite is the still frame of his frontside 360 ollie. Robert had been blasting big high frontside ollies across the back-side bank wall of the bowl. When I asked him to do one more so I could get the shot, he pulled out all the stops, full throttle, and whipped out a big frontside 360 first try. At first when I popped the shutter of my camera, I was taken by surprise by the unexpected 360 ollie. I thought I had blown the shot. As it turned out, when I hit the preview button, I got another surprise. I ended up realizing I had what would become one of my favourite skate photos - even more so now after how that Sunday would end. 

   I don't remember exactly the time but it was after 5P.M. The session was definitely winding down. LBK still wasn't back from the store getting us water, Robert cruised along the sidewalk that outlines the bowl - setting up for one more ollie into the bowl for a cruise run. This is when Robert broke his right ankle. He ollied in, slid out leaning back - sliding up one of the humps pushing his weight back sitting on his ankle, breaking it. I was turned to my left to start packing away my camera equipment, I saw him slide out - out of the corner of my eye, I heard Shannon's voice and it didn't sound promising. I looked back to my right to see Shannon running down into the bowl and Robert was hobbling up to sit on top of the hump. He was saying he just needed to straighten it back, that's when I looked down, closer, and saw his right foot pointing outward to the right. Behind me, to my left, I heard Lance's voice telling me to go get my truck, but before I could react Shannon was already yelling to Tre and throwing him his keys to his Lincoln. With quickness Tre had Shannon's Lincoln jumping the curb and on the grass, I tossed Robert and Shannon's boards in the trunk, grabbed Robert's cell phone and cigarettes - he was calm, Shannon carried him out of the bowl and put him in the passenger seat. Robert smoked a cigarette. Of course just seconds after they leave for Tampa General hospital, this is when LBK gets back from the store. I met Shannon and Robert at the hospital. After a couple of hours or so, the result was a compound break which also resulted in Robert having to get surgery and have screws and pins put in. By the time Robert was able to be released, Lance showed up, helping to make times good even when they're not so good. It truly is a blessing to have great friends.

Originoo Gunn Clappaz

   It was a Saturday night - September 18, 1999 - I hadn't been out to Ybor City or any of the clubs for quite some time. Sandman was doing another show. It was O.G.C. from the Boot Camp Clik. Fader was of course the house DJ.

   The day started with me having to work from 2:30P.M. until 11P.M. My mind wasn't working on that day and I spent it in some sort of dizzy, dream-like tranced state. It wasn't fun. By the time 11P.M. came and it was time to split to the club, I felt a bit better and even hyped up. It had been raining, the clouds still hung in the night sky, and there was a feeling about the night that was a bit uneasy. It was 11:30P.M. by the time I made it out to the club. I paid $7 to park in the parking lot behind club Masquerades. Door admission was $10 but I knew I was getting in for nothing. It was the usual, bring the camera equipment and walk in, so I thought. I get to the door and club security tries to make me pay the $10 and tells me I can't bring in my backpack. Sandman's wife, Tashea, helps my argument with the security. After a short while of arguing and a thorough search of my bag, I'm finally in the club. So there I sat, at the back of the club until O.G.C. went on at around 2A.M. - they got off stage at 2:20A.M., and ten minutes later at 2:30A.M. I left the club. A 20 minute waste of time is all that show ended up being, with no photos shot either.

   I walked out of the club the same way I walked in - alone. On the way to the parking lot I was met up with this kid Matt, as we crossed the lot disaster struck. Matt and I got fucked with by four big-ass pretty-boy assholes. One of them tries to get my backpack but I somehow manage to get away. Matt, on the other hand, gets blind sided from both sides, falls back, and gets his head kicked in. By the time anyone comes to help the dudes are gone, Matt is knocked out and the police question me and Matt as if we started that bullshit.

   One of the worst nights....

Black Moon: War Zone Album Release Show. Wednesday, March 10, 1999.

   I got to the club, The Rubb, at about 9P.M. Standing out front with my camera equipment in my backpack, Sandman's Ford Explorer passes by and turns the corner, a van pulls up soon after - parks in front of the club - enter the scene, Evil Dee, Buckshot, Dru Ha, Thor, and Eddie. We all enter the club for the sound check. DJ Evil Dee works the 1's and 2's, Buckshot warms up the mics, Dru Ha, Thor, and Eddie are all over the club and eating french fries, Edwin and Sandman are all about the club as well, checking P.A. and amp levels, and making sure things are set. K'Sheem is off sitting at a table eating a bar-bq sandwich. I had no idea where Bobby was. I myself sat at a table and just observed everyone. The sound check ended and we all left to go to T.G.I. Friday's to eat. On the way to Friday's Bobby started bitching about being broke and not wanting to be sitting up in the restaurant broke and not eating. He tried to call me out on being broke too, saying some shit about how I'm going to look dumb not eating. Meanwhile he sat outside in the parking lot. He ended up calling Tai and having Tai come pick him up to go back to the club. We took up two tables. K'Sheem, Sandman, and I at one table; and the Duckdown crew at the other. Buckshot kept fucking with the hostess. The waiter was slow as hell. After a while Idris and Terrance showed up; then some chick, a promoter or rep - some shit like that, showed up to interview Buck and Evil Dee. After dinner and all the fuck around shit at Friday's we all piled back into our vehicles and headed for the hotel. When we got to the hotel, K'Sheem and I were in the parking lot talking to Buck and he gave K'Sheem a copy of the War Zone album. Dru Ha, Dee, Buck, and Thor went off to one of their rooms; and Eddie, Sandman, K'Sheem, and I were cooling it in Eddie's room watching Jerry Springer, talking all kinds of shit. Eddie started breaking up the trees and rolling a blunt. Only he and I smoked. Some time around 1A.M. we all dipped back to the club to do the show. The show turned out real dope. The Duckdown crew was real damn cool. A hectic but dope as hell night.