Tom time.

I actually picked up skating very shortly before the fad made it out to middle America sometime in the mid-'80s. On my neighbor's little plastic board I found out that my nerdiness could be taken to new heights. At first it was the goal of seeing how far one could get across town on the thing, Skateboarding was not a part of the culture at all. People would then ride around in station wagons and ride their bikes, Discovering the joy of a larger and more expensive skateboard came simultaneously with a very small introduction to California punk rock through an older crowd. A long-time neighbor friend I remember making fun of me when prom night was approaching, said: "What are you going to do? A bunch of ollies on the dance floor?" There was not much you could do about all the baloney in the Midwest; a skater was sourly outnumbered. Back then skateboarders didn't really get girls like they're better off with now. Reading Transworld in class would often enough get you scoffed at by an otherwise attainable female. If you skated, you just had to suck in your chin and hare it. There would be a few Betties on the scene, but I personally didn't really seem to care too much.

The Midwest's scene might have been a little more hardcore. We simply had to be really creative with our passion, especially during bad winters. When indoor spots grew thin we would just have to rely on body warmth while sticking it out with frozen legs in seriously low temperatures. Even as I got older I still didn't talk much to people, and always wore the shoes I rode in. Seems now like I almost tried to be an outcast more than just being one. Guess I had trouble talking to people unless they were my skate friends. Skating was still associated with weirdos, but it was getting more technical and becoming a whole lot more accepted. Skateboarders weren't so bad after all; they were just self-instructed athletes, and come to think of it, that guy is kind of amazing. The girls were impressed.

I began seeing more and more California riders performing at demos in the Midwest. The skate video scene was by now peaking out. I began to look for an album by a band called Milk, who had songs in the Blind video. The 'zine scene was crossing boundaries between the two regions. Finally I got into drinking and smoking. Some of my new friends would even despise my occasional activity.

I made my way out to Southern California and was blown away by the hot culture. My partner at a magazine claimed to be the singer of that band Milk. I met everyone I had been reading about and my life was in the fast lane. Rodney Mullen was a nice guy, but I was not impressed with a lot of the skaters in this area. They had really large egos and even different shoes for hanging out. I used to be into it; I would cross-country skate before heading on over to the mini ramp. LA seemed to have it's own problems, and a lot of it lied in the skaters themselves. Some of the guys in the Midwest weren't even concerned at all with sponsorship, if that clears up what I'm saying. Brian Lotti was cool. He was tired of the scene and was getting into art. An amateur, Jed Walters, was so utterly different than anyone was. I later found out he was from South Dakota.

But this place had perfect red curbs everywhere, and no longer were your legs frozen. The whole magazine business seemed far too linked to the sport, and not just something that you read in class. I remember seeing Daewon Song do 50 ollie blunts in a row on an eight-foot ramp for kicks. Natas was good to have around. I would sit in my Hollywood apartment and think of tricks, then call Natas and find out if they were even possible. I found that around offices and contests there were a lot more jerks to contend with than I was used to. Much later a good friend told me that if you happen to be a writer everyone's going to let you have it. I was a better skater than they will ever know. The Midwest can be so boring-you might just as well turn your entire life over to the board.

Steve Rocco was okay. I played golf with him sometimes and he was insistent on gambling, even for a dollar a hole. I became good friends with his brother Pat and sometime later got involved with Hollywood. I made more art than I thought possible and ended up in downtown LA, traveling to San Francisco and Washington a lot. I got to stay at Julien Stranger's house. It sounds childish to write it, but I'm into that sort of thing. I noticed right away that SF was a true skater's town. They didn't have some of the bullshit of LA, and I bet lacked someone questioning your aptitude to ollie at prom. I was so old that with an old injury I couldn't ollie up curbs, but Spike Jonze gave me an extra board and I surfed around LA all day for weeks before returning to the north Midwest without the board as a deep winter was about to set in. As is always plausible, right away I met a bunch of guys that skated. They were cool, but they did not understand what making magazines was like, and I was kind of anxiety ridden away from being on the road for years.

As I drank to kill my blues, a physical depression had started to set in. There was a little skatepark down the road. Not listening at all to my notion of being retired, someone made me get on a board and I pulled a few signature tricks. Later, I felt elated, but have not skated since. I hope that at least something as charming as this could make someone shed a couple of tears.

Tom Schmidt

Hollywood, CA