Class 5 rapids: toy machine US tour, '04

Thrasher Magazine, Oct, 2004 by Michael Burnett

I FLEW IN TO MEET the Toy Machine team in Albuquerque on Southwest Airlines--aka Southworst, aka The Greyhound of the Sky. Southwest is the people's airline, and after squeezing past about 100 of them and their carry-on packages of plush Sea World toys and duty-free specialty fudges, I found an aisle seat next to a small bearded man with his nose in a magazine. We were in the air about 45 minutes when I felt a poke in the ribs and turned to find my row-mate prodding me with his rolled-up reading material.

"CHECK THIS OUT!" he whispered excitedly. "Ha-ha!"

I took the magazine from him and discovered, as it sprung open on my tray table, that he had actually handed me two magazines, a copy of Better Homes and Gardens, and, shoved inside of that, a well-worn issue of Hustler.

"Didn't think I was getting that excited about home repair, did you?" he said.

He was looking at me expectantly, as if he had just shown me a photo of his newborn. "Whoa," I said, nodding my head in an exaggerated way as if to say, "Yes, this is hot stuff. Wow."

With him still staring at me, I flipped through a few spreads of gaping genitals and money shots, trying to gauge what exactly would be a polite amount of time to peruse a complete stranger's porno mag before giving it back.

"That's some good home repair, huh?" he giggled. I returned it to him and stared forward, trying to process what had just happened.

Issue one: This guy had obviously purchased the copy of Better Homes and Gardens specifically to act as a hide-out for his Hustler. Couldn't he have grabbed a used newspaper or just stuffed it inside the complimentary copy of Sky Mall (or held it strategically behind a soiled handkerchief)? And if you were going to buy a brand new magazine to hide your smut, why not purchase a magazine you might actually like? Does this guy have no interests outside of the world of pornography?

Issue two: The porn in question was definitely not purchased at the airport, but was something brought from home. When packing for a trip, who brings old magazines. pornographic or otherwise? And if you were to bring some back issues of your favorite skin book, why include them in your carry on? It was obviously something he's looked at before. He knows how it ends! What kind of person can't be without his pornography for two and a half hours?

Issue three: Why did I nod and smile? Sure, I was caught by surprise, but why couldn't I have just handed it back to him immediately, saying something like, "No thanks, weirdo!" Why did I nave to give him the courtesy of pretending to give it an appreciative once-over? Surely I can be confident that I'm no less of a man if I give some freaky dude his porn back without giving him the satisfaction of some sort of semblance of camaraderie.

Issue four: And what the fuck did he mean by "Didn't think I was getting that excited about home repair?" That excited? What the heck was he doing over there? Did I miss something? How visibly excited could a man be on a plane without it drinking into criminal territory?

With these thoughts a-churning, I was interrupted once again by him as he reached over my lap to toss the magazines at a man in a suit who was sitting in the seat across the aisle from us. The man was reading a paperback when they bounced into his hip and I snapped up straight and stared directly ahead, mortified that he might think I had thrown him the nefarious package. My worries were alleviated when my new pal leaned forward and gave the man the double thumbs up. His tongue may have even waggled a little.

"Didn't think I was getting that excited about home repair, did you?" he asked the confused man. Fuckin' Southwest.

I JOINED THE TOY MACHINE DUDES in Albuquerque, which they had driven to the three days prior. Being in God's Land of Hot Ditches brought back a flood of memories from the time some six years ago when, as a first-year Thrasher employee, t had been sent to conduct an interview with an underground legend named Rocky Norton. Honestly, I didn't really have a very good grasp of the job (and had not yet fully discovered how impulsive my boss is), and I didn't think it was all that unusual to be sent to stay at the house of a dude I had never met--and to have four or five days to shoot an entire interview with him.

Rocky had come to Thrasher's attention after sending a tape to Deluxe. What team manager Mic-E saw astounded him and he called Jake over to check out the footage: A muscle-bound skater as big as many TV strongmen, using his immense upper body to bunny-hop onto rails, off walls, and down second story drops.

"Mike, this guy's crazy! We're sending you to get the story!" Jake told me. With the benefit of hindsight, it was a much more astounding experience than any other interview I have conducted since. Sure, Rocky was a little unsure of what to expect from me. And I was pretty much dumbfounded by the terrain he wanted to skate (which included the four-story steeple of a church, the roofs of a line of tool sheds and a 15-foot drop off the side of school), but overall it came together pretty well. Check the June '99 issue. The cover says it all: "Rocky, Pumped and Psychotic!"