Class 5 rapids: toy machine US tour, '04

Thrasher Magazine, Oct, 2004 by Michael Burnett

AUSTIN

Stylish hats reigned on Austin's locks for the bulk of the trip, but he did have one awesome new wardrobe addition: tank tops! Not the Red Dragon's spouse-beating type, but a more soft, pastel-hued collection procured from some far flung corner of a J Crew catalog--or, dare I say, a Gap Body bargain bin. Austin kept pace with Diego's tanning and they could often be spotted comparing their chocolatey midriffs between kickflips and double-set attacks.

THE FLOW TEAM

To get on Toy Machine you have to be, going for it 110-percent at all times You need the tricks, the determination and, yes, the pizzazz! And while this might explain why flow team rider Matt Bennett brought and used daily (and unashamedly displayed!) a woman's hair flattening iron and hair dryer, I was still totally and utterly flabbergasted.

"He brought a fucking hair dryer on a skate trip?" I wandered around in daze, repeating the question incredulously. "A fucking hair dryer? And a crimping iron?"

Only Ed seemed to commiserate with my shock. "Hey, these are different times," he offered. Fuckin'-A right they are. When my friend Ultimate Phil goes on a skate trip, not only does he not bring a comb (which he does not even own, I might add), his toiletries consist of a toothbrush lashed to the side of a can of aerosol-propelled Brut deodorant with a rubber band. No toothpaste. no mousse, and certainly no fuckin' woman's crimping iron. The rest of the flow program's hair was just as troubling, with Max from Kansas City's Ralph Malph-nest of ginger frizz being the closest as any of them came to carrying on Toy Machine's tradition of hair excellence. The future looks sketchy at best.

BILL MARKS: FRIEND OF YOUR DAD

MUSTACHES on smirking hipster's have been called ironic, trendy, campy and probably even (by now), painfully passe. But there's another word you can call a mustache (whether a man wears it 'cause he thinks it's funny or 'cause it keeps his lip warm), and that word is American. Mustaches are a classic American look worn by cops and next-door-neighbors alike.

"Bill Marks. Pleased to meet you!" you could imagine Billy saying on the day he moved into the house next door. He and your dad would compare power tools and talk of dreams of fishing boats and soon become fast friends in the detached, paunchy way only dads can.

"Son, go over and ask Bill Marks if we can borrow his good outdoor broom," your father would command. And you'd go over there, look him straight in the mustache, and ask.

And why not? He's Bill Marks, a friend of your dad's.