Monday, December 19, 2011

Things I wrote but forgot to submit: Part 1

I've been contributing my intellectual property to a few noteable skateboarding publications over the last year or so and when I remember to send the complete articles to them before deadline they get published and it feels great. However, sometimes I forget that I'm meant to be writing the article and, in some bizarre twist of fate, they don't get published because I forgot to send the complete article. I was meant to complete this article for a new magazine that came out last month but I forgot to finish it and before I knew it the first issue was out, sans my intellectual property. Below is said article with a bonus tacked on conclusion:

Have you ever sat there and thought about how lame and boring water is? I do all the time. I mean, aside from keeping us alive and being the foundation from which all things are born, it just sits there. Pour it into a cup, it sits there. Pour it into a bowl, still sits there. Go and have a look in your toilet right now and see what your precious H20 is doing, go on! That’s right, it's just sitting there, doing sweet fuck all like it always does. The only time water ever does anything is when it’s at the beach (boring) or when it’s keeping us alive (….zzzz). In the face of these completely factual realities I think we can all agree that if it wasn’t necessary for our existence, water would be irrelevant and we wouldn’t need taps anymore.

It’s for this very reason that an empty pool will always be way more exciting than a full one. We’ve all seen full pools before, we know what they look like, they’re boring. It’s only when you take water out of a pool that it can be truly appreciated for what it actually is; a concrete, alien landscape comprised of smooth contours, harsh transitions and a wealth of entertaining applications, the default and most significant being skateboarding. Unfortunately, not everyone skates. Some people were just born with that part of their brain missing and therefore the majority of pools in your general radius will be filled with water, only to be enjoyed by infants and rehabilitating paraplegics. An empty pool is a blessing, and unlike a new skatepark or a front yard flatbar, it’s one of the only circumstances in which certified OG’s and revered oldheads will associate with the younger crew, creating a rare unison bound by mutual respect and a unanimous hatred of water. Pool skating is raw, full stop. It’s like taking all the best parts of transition skating and injecting them with chest hair and buffalo flesh. Look at Duane Peters for crying out loud, he looks like he has an engine where his internal organs should be.

Western Australia is notorious for it's hot winters and hotter summers, so it's no surprise that there's pools everywhere. Some are full, some are empty, most are full though. Enter the illustrious Ellenbrook or 'Tortoise' Pool, a textbook example of skate heaven hidden amongst our city's arid outskirts. The Ellenbrook Pool is what you’d get if a pool started a world famous punk metal group, developed a crippling heroin addiction, boycotted the band and eventually overdosed in a bushland clearing in Ellenbrook after a failed solo career.  Boasting all the necessary traits of a skateable pool (needles, graffiti, broken glass, condoms, extensive back catalogues of Domino's vouchers) it's the peculiar front end of the landmark that provides it's flamboyant charm and possibly the grounds for it's discovery. For starters, the house itself is pink. Not the subtle salmon pink that has become commonplace in newer developments, but more of an awkwardly bright, rosey, pink that gives nods to a short-lived 1970's progressive midget porn studio or a safe-house for baby boomers that never quite lived down that one LSD binge. Today, it exists as a gallery for some noteable graffiti artists, a clubhouse for colorblind bmx'ers who also do graffiti and most recently, a perfectly transitioned paradise for awkward virgins wishing to lose their love-seat virginity to it's tight curves and deep lower ends or a familiar, unprotected thrashing for the veterans of yonder.

Of course, what would an abandoned pool in the middle of nowhere be without it’s local lore? For example, did you know that the reason the house was abandoned all those years ago was because the daughter drowned in the creepy lake nearby? Oh yeah the father was a total pedophile as well. Apparently, if you grind over the deathbox at exactly one minute past midday during the fifth month of a leap year, the bottom of the pool shifts into a reverse vortex that leads to a tangent universe where pools skate humans. Jesus Christ, can you imagine how epic that session was? What about the time Suicidal Tendencies filmed a music video there? That actually happened, there's photos and everything.

More current local tales involve Perth’s more street inclined board members rolling their pant legs up and reveling in the spirit of teamwork through manual labour, finding whatever they can to remove the stagnant bong water from the pool’s nether regions while confused redneck motocross riders would watch on and rev their whiny little engines, much to their own elation and no-one else's. Once the cleaning was done, these young Vikings would spend hours navigating the unfamiliar territory with their decks and their fancy wheels while local photgrapher’s flashes applauded the proceedings and the mini DV’s captured every moment in the highest of definitions. Supposedly a young buck by the name of Harry Clark innovated with his incorporation of a surrounding rock as an extension of the coping. Other Chinese whispers involve an enigmatic figure known by most as Nannup, whose knowledge of the curves and effortless carves lead many to believe he was involved in the construction of the pool and is therefore, anywhere between 20 and 200 years old.

As far as I know the tortoise pool is still fully functioning, providing reality checks and broken wrists for anyone that approaches it with even the slightest ignorance and treating it's more courteous admirers to a Dogtown retrospective that is seldom replicated and eternally appreciated. Be sure to take a six pack of monster energy drinks and a few Ralph magazines to distract the bmx'ers and watch out for the homicidal pedophile that totally lives there.

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