However, documentarians of #theculture have largely overlooked the ancillary dining establishments that fueled — on a molecular level — the innovation and unforgettable sessions at spots like the Brooklyn Banks, Pulaski, Embarcadero and Love Park.
Until the rise of “foodie” culture, Yelp and the general trend of eating healthy and shit, most skaters’ palates trended towards the most convenient fast-casual options.
With that in mind, and in conjunction with New York Restaurant Week (which is apparently almost a month long ¯\_(ツ)_/¯), we present Quartersnacks Restaurant Week — an oral history of legendary spot-adjacent fast food restaurants. Over the course of conducting the interviews, some common themes emerged, i.e. most skaters favored carb-heavy menu options as an easily accessible energy source. In addition, at most spots the skaters and food service workers formed alliances — an interesting anthropological wrinkle in terms of how different cultures interact.
2018 feels like the first lllooonnnggg year in a while. Like, did the Cons video come out in 2016? But alas, we had to cuff up our macaroni denim before it went out of style, and recap just what the hell happened in this year that felt like three.
Loved this addition to the recent trend of one-spot montages: “Mecca: A Everson Museum of Art Video” by Lukas Reed, which documents the life of the still-standing Syracuse, NY spot A.K.A. “Love Park if you squint.” Everything from the nostalgic landings in the shoveled out snow piles, to the circa-2002 internet titles/music supervision, to the unexpected Austyn Gillette cameo — the entire video is a fun watch. “Goodwine” is a sick last name.
Watching Paris footage and not being in Paris is kinda how I imagine people going through relationship shit feel when they listen to Drake. Here’s montage #35 from the POP Trading boys, filmed during the last #PFW.
We’re going to start issuing an annual “Non-Skate Journalism” award on QS each December, and this is the frontrunner: Toronto spent $31 million dollars effectively skate-stopping trash cans, but for raccoons looking to eat garbage — only for the raccoons to conquer the trashcan lock mechanism that was said to be “impossible” for them to open (poor guys don’t have thumbs!) If you — as a skateboarder — can’t relate to this tale of raccoon prosperity in the face of drudging humans trying to keep them from having fun, then you are a heartless coward.
Quote of the Week: “I wouldn’t wish a week in North Hollywood on anyone.” — Jesse Alba
“I kind of wonder how I had so much nerve to do some of those graphics.” This is nine months old, but shout to Palomino for just linking it — an hour-long interview with Mark McKee that gives insight into the wild west era of skateboard graphics.
Ricky Oyola, godfather of the east coast “filming a line via just skating random shit on the street”-practice, once expounded on his peak skateboard dream: doing a line through Philadelphia’s then-standing City Hall, into the street, up into the Municipal Services building, back down the stairs, across the street, into Love Park, through Love Park, and end at Wawa.
The closest he got on record was a line from the end of City Hall, through the intersection, and into Love Park in Eastern Exposure 2, but it did establish a lingering precedent for connecting spots. Apart from Ricky and that Joey O’Brien Sabotage 4 line where he starts at Love and ends up in the garage beneath it, spot connecting does not have a rich history in Philadelphia.
Or anywhere, really — because doing a line from one spot, through the street, and to another, is fucking hard. There are variables (people, traffic, pebbles, maybe two sets of security, acts of God), and a pressing anxiety of missing the final trick in an already-long line, which gets amplified by the fact that fifteen other things went right up until that point. As you will soon learn, spot connecting is something most people do for the sake of doing it. In the majority of cases, they stick to their safe tricks.
Like Philadelphia, New York is a dense and layered city. Many of its streets are narrow, and depending on where you are, three or four spots could be across from one another. New York never had a “Big Three,” but it does have three different types of benches on four different street corners, and over the years, skateboarders here have kept their third eyes open and far-sighted.