My three sons

Thrasher Magazine, Nov, 2004 by Lee DuPont

RING, RING, RING. "Hello, Beach Cities Financial, how may I direct your call?"

"Um yeah, is David Brent in please?"

"Please hold."

A soft voice comes through my earpiece as I wait: "Here at Beach Cities Financial we guarantee to have your tax forms filed and have your refunds the highest they can possibly be. We want our rich customers to stay rich and our financially less endowed customers to at least have some money to party with."

A loud click and the line fumbles as a heavy-set man clears his throat into the phone, "Uh-um! This is David Brent, how can I help you?"

"David. Lee DuPont here."

"Lee! How was your week, buddy? Did yon go to Chasers like I told you? You had a blast didn't you? Didn't you?"

"David, it's a gay nightclub. Why would you have me go to a gay nightclub?"

"No!" he insists. "It's not gay; it's not gay. Wait, what night of the week did you go on?"

"It was a Thursday."

"Okay, well maybe just on Thursdays it is ... well, you know. How about the girl I set you up with? Did you call her?"

"Who? The girl with a fiance?"

"Yeah! Dawn, the lovely Dawn! Did yon call her?"

"Well David, no. I mean yeah, but that's not what I'm calling about! I'm calling about my taxes and the work you did on them."

"Yeah, did you get the numbers that I e-mailed you?"

"I got the numbers, David, and I thought you said you could have me paying next to nothing this year in taxes?"

"Well, you see, I worked on them and that was just about as good as it gets right there, you see."

"Fuck ... there is nothing else I can write off?"

"Not unless you have some kind of a dependent. Now, you can get married but we both know your swinging days are far from over! Am I right? Am I right? Or am I right?"

"So what do you suggest?"

"Lee, have you ever considered adopting?"

AND THAT'S HOW I came to be the legal guardian of my three boys. The adoption agency put me under a rigorous and very thorough background check. I finally was placed on a six-month waiting list before I was to meet any of my special little guys. I knew to support the three of them I would either have to drastically change my lifestyle, living on Ramen noodles and getting only basic cable on the plasma screen, or find a way to put these boys to work. I tried to get them jobs bussing tables, sorting clothes for Am Vets, and being Christmas elves for an all-ethnic United Colors of Benetton catalog shoot. None of that paid the bills enough to get me back to the lifestyle I was used to living. Since I had already been working in the skate filmmaking industry, it seemed only obvious to get the boys into the lucrative market of professional skateboarding.

I brought on Caine Gayle to train them--quite simply--because if he could train that ditzy lady on MTV then he surely could get my boys up to par with skateboarding's most elite. All I needed now was a marketing ploy. Every pro skater out now has one, and to get to the top, so should these guys. I decided to call them the immature Amateurs; I wanted to push them as the bratty, highly skilled street kids that are always up on the newest styles and fads. Circa wanted an am squad and was said to pay top dollar to get one. I brought my business plan and all three of my Immature Amateurs to the table--and Circa's people bought it. The cash cow was already mooing: all I had to do now was get these kids into top skating form.

THE FIRST ONE came to me from high up in the mountains of his native country, Tibet. Being raised by monks, he is able to find joy in all of life's situations good or bad. He often has sudden episodes of hysterical blindness, and prides himself on always knowing which color is in for each season of the year. He was accepted to Harvard at the early age of 13 but upon his 15-month completion of high school he opted to attend ITT Tech, stating that he wanted to spend his days belittling the professors, and his evenings day-trading in the Hong Kong stock market. Since a very early age he has been fascinated with Greenland, enjoys teasing animals, and has to have his pasta cut with a knife. The only name he had upon being dropped off on my front door was Anthony. I quickly shortened that name to Tony and gave him the last name of Tave; that way his initials would be TT, following the lead of my favorite male porn star, TT Boy.

Tony Tave

How often do you bring your family on the skate missions?

Fuck you. Wait, wait! Don't put that in there yet. Whatever, I don't know what you're talking about.

You know exactly what I am talking about.

Fine, every mission I bring seven people. Is that good?

Who gets you more psyched to pull a trick: your sister or your sister's friends?

My sister's friends, because they're hot.

How do we know you're not really regular footed?

It's all in the pressure flip. You can always find out which way someone skates by watching them pressure flip.

Who would you rather lend your BMW to Lenny Rivas or Baby Ice?

Neither.

Who could win in a fight between Lenny Rives and Windsor James?

Well, Windsor already beat Lenny up. You want me to go into that one?