Cap'n Roger's voyage: rumble in the suites, May 14-16, SF, CA

Thrasher Magazine, August, 2004 by Oliver Flores

Cap'n's Log: 05142004

SOME PEOPLE WERE CALLING IT the Vans Van to San Fran, but it seemed more like a ship to me. Like a 55-passenger liner with cargo of 15 cases of beer and the variety of hors d'oeuvres you find at little league games. We boarded in Oceanside where we picked up Ozone, Decade, PD, Sop and Industry skateshop buyers. Next stop: The OC, where Crooks, Active and Liberty jumped in. I knew this was going to be a crazy voyage as we pulled into the driveway from our initial stop. Sylvia, the bus driver, got herself caught in a tight squeeze. Before I realized what was happening, she'd rammed the ship into a parked car by malting a hard right turn. Sylvia didn't care to stop and survey the damage. When in an automobile this particular driving maneuver is commonly referred to as a "hit and run," but in a ship these rules of the road differ. We all went by admiralty law; the law of the seas. I saw the other vehicle ... it was a Ford Escort station wagon, with one of the wheels impacted so badly that it was completely off the ground. Everyone was mesmerized by how ghetto Sylvia was. She just didn't give a damn. After the amazement wore off and the laughing died down, the scurvy dogs got on the bus. Ten minutes later we were back on the road and onto the next port, Mission Hills. We picked up the rest of the shops: Clout, South Bay Skates, Pharmacy and Banned. From there it was the ooh-wee--beer and dice to San Francisco.

Personally, I am convinced that the dice were purchased on the wrong side of the tracks, since I lost $60 in the time it takes to shotgun a beer.

San Francisco

WE LOWERED THE ANCHOR in SF at about 6:00pm, Friday evening. When we got there we were advised that Mic-E from Deluxe had a BBQ waiting for us at Pop's. After about six hours of drinking a fine quality pilsner (Pabst's Blue Ribbon), we figured it was time to get back to our official port, but Sylvia had disappeared. She'd left us at Pop's, landlocked. Thus, each was on his own to get back to the Embassy Suites in South San Francisco, AKA The Bayview Rumble Hotel.

Cap'n's Log: The Next Day 051504

THAT DAY BEGAN with my roommate stumbling into the room at 3:00am. Apparently there wasn't enough space in the room for him to sleep. In order to accommodate himself, he was trying to make more space by attempting to throw a chair out the window. He realized that the surface, which he thought was a pool, was glass. By 9:00am the Bay View Rumble was on at the Embassy Suites. The suites were converted to show rooms for the manufacturers, who had sent their reps, pros, and their newest product to SF. Retailers from around the world came out to meet one-on-one with these companies. Brad from Pabst Blue Ribbon had flown out from Texas to personally deliver cases to each room. The trade show was conducted in the manner that trade shows should be conducted--free beer for all, and anything goes ... we don't need no stinking badges! Mic-E grabbed me and suggested that I take one for the team and, before I knew it, I was in the shower with three of the Suicide Girls, which is another story ...

STUDIO Z WAS THE PLACE to be that night. JT the Bigga Figga, Duane Peters and The Hunns, DJ Satva, DJ Muska Beatz, and The Suicide Girls held it down. After that it was just a blur. I found myself at my room 9:30. It was the Furnace room. I progressively lost my money until 4:00am ... The only thing that I won in that room was a breakdancing showdown. Big Baby Stesus (aka Steve Claar)--he was served!

Cap'n's Log: 051604--The Way Home

IT STARTED AT 10:00AM, rustling up everyone to see the best contest in my whole life, the Wallenberg contest, where Lindsey Robertson, Darrell Stanton, Mark Gonzales, Andrew Reynolds, and Elissa Steamer held it down for skateboarding. The contest had over 1,500 spectators, and over $10,000 in cold hard cash. (See page 98!)

AFTER THE CONTEST, everybody got on the ship, including guest land lover Gareth Stehr from New Zealand and we started sailing back down south. On the way back we had the Voyager Olympics, hosted by Pharmacy. The first event was the 50 Passenger Dash, an ordeal consisting of running from the back of the bus to the front of the bus, tagging the person in the front passenger seat, then running to the back of the bus as fast as possible, then drinking a shot of Crown Royal. After that was the 55-Passenger Dash Hurdle, consisting of hurdling over a large box of beer in the middle of the aisle, when running from the back of the bus to the front of the bus, tagging the person in the front passenger seat, then running to the back of the bus as fast as possible to drink a shot of Crown Royal. The third and final competition was Cartwheels, of which Neil was the only person to attempt, or come close, to doing. The winner of all three competitions was Neil from Pharmacy; he's the world record holder, coming in under nine seconds per event.

We rolled more dice, drank more beer, and smoked some Marley before dropping off all the accounts. Very special thanks: Vans and Deluxe for making this happen.