DAM

Denver Art Museum, 2010.

BEND T-SHIRTS?

Considering making BEND tees. Anyone interested? Which one?

TIP JAR

I walk this way to lunch a couple times a week. The restaurant is about 200 yards away, a straight shot down a lonely sidewalk. On this particular day I saw a figure ahead. In front of Monk’s. I knew, right away this was going to be interesting. It was just a feeling I had… no other reason, really.

As I approached, I got a look at her. An overweight woman in a pink nightgown and slippers moving around erratically just outside the door. Her dirty, curly blond hair in tangles and falling over her haggard face like wild vines. I walked past her and into the side door. She followed me in. It was really busy inside. Busier than I’d ever seen it. I stood in line to make my order.

She wandered around in front of the register for a while before she started talking.

She leaned in over the counter. “Someone back there get me a salad.”

The register girl piped up, “Ma’am, you’ll have to stand in line like everyone else.”

“I want a salad. Hey you! Get me a salad!” Her nightgown was sleeveless and you could see her blubbery arms shaking at the line cook. Her pale face was half covered in bright pink melanoma’s and twisted up in a sort of confused expression.

Everyone in the place ignored her. Make no eye contact. You could feel the tension building.

“Get me a Pepsi too.” She took a seat on one of the stools near the counter. And that’s when I made the mistake of looking at her. She looked back. Damn it.

She began to walk over. I thought she was going to ask for money.

She didn’t ask for money. “I don’t like you,” she told me right to my face.

“OK.”

She kept staring at me, then turned around and went back to the stool.

I placed my order. I gave the woman taking my money a little lifted eyebrows look. She gave me an Oh Well shrug. I moved back and waited for my order to come up. She came at me again.

“I don’t like you.”

This time I just stared into her eyes. I wasn’t sure why, maybe I was hoping to intimidate her. She stared back, but here eyes were vacant, there was nothing there behind the angry face. My only thought was, 'Just don’t touch me.' I looked around and everyone was ignoring the situation.

"I could kill you, mother fucker! You're an immoral person and you don't go to church or pray! I don't like you." She then turned towards the counter, “Can you call the police on this man!?" she yelled while approaching the register.

Suddenly, with a fumbling, awkward move, she grabbed the tip jar with one hand and turned quickly towards the door. As she snatched it, change went flying around the room and onto the people and floor. One man grabbed at her arm and even more change exited the container, but she held on.

When she reached the door, about 10 feet away, she pushed the handle, slammed face-first into the glass and fell backwards, even more money scattering onto the floor. The woman landed on her back but managed to stagger up quickly and towards the door again. This time she pulled and ran. Well, it was more like a shuffling limp at this point.

Everyone watched the pink woman stumble down the sidewalk to a bus bench across the street where she sat down and started counting the remainder of the change.

Inside Monk’s it was silent and still for a few seconds. People just sort of looked around at each other with varying expressions. Some almost laughing, some stunned, some sad. Then a couple of people started collecting the change and putting it back on the counter. And everything just went back to normal.

“You sure know how to attract ‘em, Jenkins!” My co-worker, Mark, was in the line behind me — I hadn’t even noticed.

“Ah, yeah,” I answered.


Bender. Originally published in issue #45 of Monster Children. 2014.
Illustration by Travis Millard.

WHAT DO ARTISTS DO ALL DAY?

Check out this documentary film series from the BBC... great little slices of life. One of my favorites is of  Scottish artist & writer, John Byrne. I was pretty surprised to have never heard of him before. He's amazing and now one of my favorites.

THE ART DUMP

I've been at the same job now, Art Director for the Girl Skateboard Company, for almost 21 years. The art department has grown from 1 (me) to 9, plus a big stable of freelancers. I've seen a few really amazing artists come and go. The current lineup has couple new faces in it and I haven't known them  for very long, but long enough now to know they're hard-working, talented dudes that I'm happy to have within the Dump ranks. So with that, meet the new Art Dump...

(L to R) Andy Mueller, Eric Anthony, Nate Hooper, myself, Jeremy Carnahan, Chris Waycott and Nick Zegel (missing is Carlos Gutierrez). Photo by E.A.

HOLIDAY SALE

20% OFF everything in the Bend Store until Friday. X-Mas domestic delivery guaranteed. Use the code HOLIDAY. Lots of drawings, prints, zines and original mixed media pieces for sale. Check this one, for instance...

DEERHOOF

On the "turntable" for this morning... Deerhoof vs Evil.

REAL HEADLINES, PART 2

"Man plotted to kill and eat children, feds say"
CNN online, 9/12/13

"850 snakes in New York home"
CNN online, 9/20/13

"Bolshoi dancer in dock as acid attack trial adjourned"
Yahoo News, 10/22/13

"Woman held in body parts dumping case"
CNN online, 2/3/14

"Muslims warned against Mars mission"
CNN online, 2/25/14

"Man who awoke in body bag dies"
CNN online, 3/13/14

"Rapper severs penis, jumps off building"
CNN online, 4/16/14

"12 gold bars found in man's stomach"
CNN online, 4/23/14

“Actor accused of killing, skinning and then eating ex-girlfriend's pet rabbit”
CNN online, 12/12/14

REAL HEADLINES

"Law Students Arrested in Exotic Bird Decapitation"
LA Times, 10/15/12

"Tough Old Lizard To Face Grave Romantic Troubles, Say Scientists"
NPR, 10/17/12

"Naked cave man worries neighbors"
CNN, 10/17/12

"Pooping Man Killed by Subway Train As Second Man Is Injured Nearby"
Gawker, 1/15/13

"Dog is not arrested after accidentally shooting owner"
Highlands Today, 2/28/13

"Flaming bag of feces damages Pennsylvania home"
York Daily Record, 2/28/13

"Naked man leads California cops on foot chase after pooping on car roof"
The Raw Story, 3/5/13

"Washington Republican: Bicycles cause more pollution than cars"
The Raw Story, 3/5/13

"Son stabs father, then saws off his own hands"
CNN online, 6/16/13

GUY

I've know Guy Mariano for a long time. But I really don't know Guy Mariano. I'm usually inhabiting my little corner cave at Girl. When I do get to talk to him, he's friendly, down to earth and always complimentary. 

I thought he got short-changed in 2012 when he was not given the Thrasher SOTY award. But you know, that wasn't his peak. He's nowhere near his peak. He just keeps progressing.

Guy is currently being featured on The Berrics website in a 5-part documentary series of videos. They are fantastic so far (#4 hits tomorrow, and I'm sure it's going to cut pretty deep). He tells some amazing stories about his incredible journey through a skateboarding life, with an awesome insight into a pro skater's mind. One of the best things I've watched on the interwebs all year. Now I feel like I know him a little better, and the next time I see him, I'm going to tell him how much I respect him and how happy I am for him. Go watch the videos.

DECEMBER 10TH, 1986

The day at work was typical, although I knew something birthday-like would go down — it always did. When would it happen? How? It was after lunch when I realized no one had sung the traditional song yet, or brought up the subject at all (they were building up for the big one, I thought). I hate that feeling. The waiting. Pretending you forgot it was your birthday so you can act “surprised” when someone tells you. Blah.

Anyway, it was after lunch when she came into my office kinda nervous and excited saying, “You’ve got to go up into the front office!” I did what I could to act unknowing, like, “For what?” I asked. Smart, eh? She replied, “Just do it. Go now!”

So I did. I strolled off thinking, all right, all right, no big deal, I’ll just act surprised… in reaching for the door knob my anticipation peaked. And on opening the door my heart sank and my throat swelled. I froze momentarily, staring. I was taken back by the unexpected; a very small man stood in front of the receptionist’s desk. He was barely taller than the desktop. He’d come to pick up something and courier it away. He’d come to do his job. His JOB.I tried not to look at him and gazed around as if searching for someone. My mind was racing. He knew what was going on, I thought. He’d faced it all his life — the stares, comments, snickering, jokes, pokes. And here I stood, just another faceless observer. A fool. Yet, I’d like to think that under “normal” circumstances I would have reacted differently. Maybe with some tact.

Bullshit. I was thrown headlong into a situation I was unprepared for. I went back to my office, stunned and mad and there she was, waiting for me to say, “Man, that guy was small! Can you believe that?” Instead I tried to ignore her.

“Isn’t it sad? God…” she said. I looked at her drooping eyes, her viewpoint, and thought yeah, how sad.

Later that day, the cake had no taste. Happy Birthday.


I wrote that a couple days after it happened, 28 years ago. I was 23, so the writing is a little, "young." Strange day.

24 QUESTIONS

New issue of Bend Zine is just around the corner. Issue 24, "Questions". Can you guess who this is?

"FEELINGS"

I should disclose that, if you don't already know, I am the father of a teenage son.

Emmet skates. He skates a lot. And he runs his own griptape company, Shady. He also films and edits. The other day he asked me to watch his new video on YouTube. I watched it alone just before I went to sleep last night and I cried. It's a moving selfy with a fitting, lo-fi melancholic feel. It gave me new insight on my son and his passion. I hadn't looked at it this way... through his eyes. It's a beautifully simple piece of an "Every Man" skateboarder, Emmet Jenkins.

 Again, I'm his dad. But I couldn't be prouder. Enjoy, "Feelings."

NUN-CHUCK JIMMY

Jimmy wasn't too sharp. He once knocked himself out in the parking lot of the restaurant where we both worked. We'd just gotten off when he pulled out a set of nun-chucks and started them up as if he knew what he was doing. Almost instantly he was out cold on the ground. Wooden club to the face.

The manager had sent him home one afternoon to shave his stubbly face. He came back an hour later with bloody dabs of kleenex all over his beard line. It was as though he'd never shaved before. The manager sent him back home.

But for all his density, he was one cocky son-of-a-bitch who could stand up for himself… when he wasn't on the ground out cold. He once served a drive-thru customer who had crossed him, with a frozen patty in his burger. When the guy came into the restaurant threateningly, Jimmy just stood behind the counter taunting him with a hot, greasy spatula.

Every night after closing, one employee would stay on a late shift and deep clean the restaurant. Everything from vacuuming the dining room to scrubbing the frying vats and flushing the ice-cream machine. Jimmy was a regular closer.

One night William and I hid in the cubby space above the walk-in freezers and waited. From up there we had access to most of the one-level building. It was simply a matter of peeling up the false ceiling. At about midnight we started our assault.

Picking up the ceiling tile in the men's bathroom, we lowered a broom down and hit the knob on the hand-dryer. By the time he came over to investigate, the WHOOSHing of the dryer had stopped. After he left, we hit it again.

From above the salad bar island we, again, pulled up a tile to shake the line of beads that hung over it.

We dropped ketchup packets onto the floor he'd just mopped.

Eventually, he started yelling as he stalked the restaurant, asking, "WHO'S THERE! MOTHER FUCKER, SHOW YOURSELF! COME ON!"

Before we could come down from the cubby, he charged up there, adrenaline flowing and a large knife in his hand. We tried to stop him, but in the darkness, he stabbed down onto my accomplice's hand. The blade went through the boney appendage and into the wooden floor. When he realized who we were and what he'd just done, he backed up, jumped down to the restaurant floor and stomped out the back door into the night. We never heard from him again. William never came back either.

Soon after that, I quit and went to art school.


Bender. Originally published in issue #42 of Monster Children. 2014.
Illustration by Travis Millard.

TIME TOUGH

Today... Toots and the Maytals.

BULLHEAD HOUDINI

Today... Melvins.

BENNY'S GLIDERS

A while back, Benny Gold commissioned a bunch of contemporary artists to customize his balsa wood glider planes and the results were pretty amazing. You can find the lot on his website for sale. Check them out here. Thanks for having me on board, Benny, that was a really fun project.

DECK THE WALLS

I'll be part of an artshow, Deck The Walls, at the Skatepark of Tampa (SPoT) this Thursday and Friday. Apparently, I'm an "...award winning celebrity skate artist of our time." Damn. The boards I'm featuring are all actual production models — three of my favorites from over the years. My Krooked Guest Board which features Lettus Bee's no comply (2009), Girl's Rick Howard "Bad Dog" cruiser (2005), and the new one, Girl's "Lettus Bee Texas Plant" for Cory Kennedy (2014).

BASKETBALL JONES

I posted all the Original drawings from the Girl Basketball Series (1997) up on the Bend Store. Four of them sold within 10 minutes, but 3 are still available... $25 off until Tuesday the 2nd of December.

20,000 DAYS ON EARTH

Couldn't sleep. Watched 20,000 Days On Earth last night at 2am. Thoroughly enjoyed it. A must for any creative out there... writer, artist, musician, etc. Especially if you're a Nick Cave fan.

COMMISSIONS

I while ago I got a commission do do a few skateboard drawings. It's taken me way too long to get them going... but here are the working drawings. Sorry for the delay, Dave.

WANDERING

Does the dog need to go out?
Is the back door open for him?
What about that strange old man we saw this morning?
He could just wander in.
Would he come in and get close enough that we could smell him?
He's wearing all dark clothes, greasy with dirt, spit and living. He would speak to me a few inches from my face, his breath destroying the oxygen between us.
But I wouldn't be thinking about his smell if he were threatening me with an ice pick. Holding it directly over my heart inbetween two ribs.
Would I say out loud that I don't want to die like this? I don't really mind dying, just not like this.
And why at ice pick? Icepicks aren't common at all. How do you sharpen one? With a rough, rusty file.
How would that damage your organs? A deep, tiny hole? Is it worse than a knife wound?

Wait... how the fuck did I get here?

Oh yeah, the back door.
Does the dog need to go out?

WHORE

I look at the clock (actually, I look at my phone. Who has a clock anymore?) it's 2:30pm. Christ. I still have two and a half hours to go. I have enough work to tide me over until 5, but the motivation isn't there. Only yawns. I stretch and look around my office for some sort of message. None. I get up and go for a cup of coffee. Black.

3:04. Holy crap, the day has just stalled out.

4:15. Ugh.

4:46. I can do this.

5. I'm out.

I make a quick stop to pick up my dog from the kennel and he settles into the back seat.

Merging onto the freeway is always an anxious moment. Cars in front of me are always merging too slow and the cars already on the freeway fly by. I have to blink and either barge or be barged on.

Today the traffic is almost stopped. I slip in behind a giant container truck and wait with all the others. This goes on for some time.

Finally things start to move and cars go into a frenzy. Which lane i faster? Is that bus holding things up? I better switch over to the left. Maybe the right. Why is that guy still moving so slow?

Finally, I exit the freeway and am trapped behind an over-loaded pick-up truck, tools and junk hanging off like hair. About two blocks from my house we I stop at a 4-way. The truck in front of me, painfully slow — that's the last straw. I snap and pull around him quickly. I forget to stop at the sign. The oncoming car  starts turning in front of me and we both hit our brakes. There is now about 10 feet from my face to his between our open windows. I look at him and he is in a full rage, his face all twisted up and red. He is ugly with anger. We both speak at the same time…

I start, "I'm sorry man, I made a mis..."

He yells — much louder than I expected, "YOU WHORE! I'll kill you and your dog!"

What? Did he just say that? No… he couldn't have. He wants to kill me — and my dog? For cutting him off? He must have said, I could have killed you and your dog. Yeah. We each drive off and I cant help but to yell.

Well then, "… FUCK YOU!"

That was smart. The dude calls me a "whore" and all I can think of is Fuck You. Classic. For the rest of my short drive home, I think of alternative responses.

"And a good day to you, sir."

"Who's the whore here? Whore."

"Whore? How does that possibly make any sense?"

OK, so I have no good alternative responses. I park in front of my place and look back at my dog. He's sitting up in the seat, tongue out, a smile on his face.

Asshole.


Bender. Originally published in issue #44 of Monster Children. 2014.
Illustration by Travis Millard.

ONE HOUR OF RANDOM, PART 2

iTunes random play
3:30pm - 4:30pm

Ornette Coleman “Faces And Places”

Clash “Something About England”

Faust “Lauft… Heisst Das Es Lauft Oder Kommt Blad”

Shudder To Think “Love Catastrophe”

The Claudia Quartet “Guarana”

Pixies “Dig For Fire”

The Mumlers “The Hinge’s Lament”

A Tribe Called Quest “I Left My Wallet In El Segundo”

Echo & The Bunnymen “Clay”

Tom Waits “Union Square”

Bright Eyes “Waste Of Paint”

Wilco “Forget The Flowers”

The National “Lit Up”

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds “By The Time I Get To Phoenix”

Unknown Instructors “Twing Twang”

Aphex Twin “Father”

Sunny Day Real Estate “8”

Mr. T Experience “Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba”

Fugazi "Facet Squared"

ONE HOUR OF RANDOM

iTunes random play
9:30am - 10:30am

Miles Davis “Scrapple From the Apple”

Queens of the Stone Age “The Bronze”

Gregory Porter “Mother’s Song”

Iggy Pop “Lust For Life”

Elvis Costello “Shot With His Own Gun”

Willie Bobo “Nessa”

Medeski, Martin & Wood “Coconut Boogaloo”

Lou Barlow “Option”

Graham Coxon “Me You, We Two”

Minor Threat “Cashing In”

Mt. Egypt “Song For My Mother”

Mission of Burma, “Careening With Conviction”

101’ers “Lonely Mother’s Son”

Carmen McRae “I’ll Be Seeing You”

Wilco w/ Fleet Foxes “I Shall Be Released”

Archie Bronson Outfit “Rituals”

The Black Keys “Little Black Submarines”

LETTUS BEE ORIGINALS

All 5 of the original drawings I did for the current Girl mini series are available for purchase in the Bend Store. Wrench Pilot's Lettus Bee pays homage to Sean Malto, Eric Koston, Mikemo, Mariano and Cory Kennedy. Black ink on archival paper. Signed.

You can also get the Girl boards themselves from the Crailtap Store.

HEAVY HEADS

Here's a shot of my custom helmet from the Heavy Heads show earlier this year. It's for sale over on the Heavy Heads Big Cartel store.

BRAIN DENTURE JETS

Here's a list of the most popular junk emails I get:

"Brain Stimulator"

"Custom Dentures"

"Private Jets"

"Funeral Insurance"

I'm trying to see the connection.

I'M NEW HERE

Welcome to the new Bend Press Blog. I hate the word Blog. Let's call it a journal... of sorts. I'll be posting all sorts of nonsense here and leave the Bend Press site for my bio, job & misc info. I'm moving the column from that site to this one because it's way easier for me to post — and post remotely. So bare with the simple aesthetic and lack of design of any sort. Until I figure out how to have an easily editable column on my personal site, I'll be using this thing. Welcome aboard.