First, if anything, I should offer up a modest mea culpa of sorts. Not that I feel it's necessary, I'm just doing this to span time and decorate the Interweb with something other than pornographic imagery, but my original intent really was to be a bit more active with this Disposable extension (after all, I am currently paying for the online trailer park space). However, back in February, my car was broken into and some cocksucker of a thief made off with my MacBook Pro laptop and camera gear. Aside from the fact I was uninsured and had to swallow a roughly $9,000.00 loss, what really hurt was that I had neglected to back up my files in a long, long time and I'd woefully consolidated my entire archive of hi-res skateboard photos onto the laptop to organize. And while I still have scattered back-ups of much of what I shot for The Disposable Skateboard Bible, I'm fairly certain I lost most all of the excess/unused deck images from my shooting rounds for Disposable: A History of Skateboard Art, not to mention everything else that I'd been storing up to use here online, e.g. reproductions, one-offs, and prototypes. So it goes. Digital life lesson learned ... the hard way.
Anyway, it was a demoralizing episode and I'm only now coming back around. So the purpose of this highly self-indulgent post is mostly just to get my feet wet once again and shed some light on a little seen thing: my personal collection of boards.
While many are under the misconception I own a lot of the boards depicted in the Disposable books, I unfortunately do not. Granted, yes, if I had the excess capital, insanity, and means to adequately store and/or display a collection of that magnitude I surely would let myself go in just such a material manner, but alas ... I have none of the above. But amongst the 40 odd boards that I do own (not counting those I've done the artwork on and held onto for archival purposes), there are two boards I prize above them all: a pair of Powell-Peralta Mike McGills, circa 1988. From the hundreds of boards I've skated since 1986 these are the only two that remain in my hands to this day. Apparently I'd left them at my parents' house just before moving to Santa Barbara, California, on January 4th, 1989, and there they remained in storage until I made the surprising discovery of them a few years back.
I've often cited the year and a half I spent living and skating in Madison, Wisconsin, circa 1987-1988, to be my most fondly remembered era, so it was cool to reclaim these tangible remnants from that particular slice of the past. I was very much living in the paint pen moment of the day then and, laughably, felt the need to deface one of my favorite all-time graphics with the name of a fleeting girlfriend (later abbreviated to "Helley", as seen on the topside). Silly is as silly does—including my ludicrous suburban interpretation of urban graffiti—but this was not nearly so bad as the fact I'd ritually attempted to repair the graphic of its scuffs and scrapes on a nightly basis.
As for the yellow McGill, it took me a moment or two to decipher a near illegible and fading autograph that had been marked upon its bottom. I thought, at first, that it may have belonged to Jim Thiebaud from the time he came to do a demo at Flying Fish (R.I.P.) in September 1988, but I then realized it was actually the one and only scrawl of Glenn Danzig, when his self-named band played Wally Gator's on its first nationwide tour. And with that recollection I then remembered being in the front row of that show, belting out all the lyrics to "MOTHER!" in unison and happily high-fiving punk's most prominent midget. Good memories indeed.
Coincidentally, the few skateboard photos that I have of myself from those days in Madison all have the green McGill in them. It's not the most stylish ollie fastplant (unlike the sequence of Natas Kaupas I'd attempted to emulate), but I'm happy to have the photographic complement just the same.