On Sunday, as Hurricane Sandy progressed towards the New York/New Jersey area, Long Island based trail rider and builder Ryan Hoey made a simple observation: “Hurricane coming. Trails are done for.” Continue reading
Subrosa Bike Company, the brainchild of Ryan Sher and Ron Bonner, the one-time producer of limited edition purple jeans under The Shadow Conspiracy name, have recently released a new limited edition item: sweatpants, complete with the Subrosa logo screened down the one leg of the sweatpants. While my quick reaction could have been, “Be honest Brian, you hate these as much as the limited edition purple jeans from a few years back,” I chose to look deeper into myself and remember all of the ways in which I’ve benefited from sweatpants, and why, at the end of the day, sweatpants aren’t such a bad thing for a bike company to produce. Continue reading
You come to me, twisted and baked from wheat flour and malt syrup. Your salt glistens, and those of you unfortunately located at the bottom of the bag break apart from their formed shape. They are renegades, unassuming and innocent, but I cannot turn away from them. Continue reading
The brand of irreverence I’ve come to identify with the upstate New York band now known as Self Defense Family is not something typically found in the genre of music in which they exist. In many ways, they could be up their own asses about self righteousness, instilling rules on their listeners, and all of the other bullshit that comes with listening to emotionally tinged modern day hardcore music.
Instead, they laugh at themselves, they position themselves as politically incorrect and they generally don’t give two fucks about anything that anybody says about them. They could’ve sorely been used in 1995, when backdoor rules and conjecture on the pages of zines with circulation rates of 50 mattered, but it’s more a wonder that they exude their brand of no fucks given in a time when everyone has the voice to give a fuck. Continue reading
April 26, 2012 was a rough day. The day before, I had to make the difficult decision to relieve my cat Goose of his misery. I’ve been through this story and I don’t wish to revisit it right now. The following day, I boarded a plane for Shanghai, China and tried in vain to put the previous month’s hardships behind me. That meant riding the streets of Shanghai with some friends, eventually ending up at the SMP Skatepark on the outskirts of town. Continue reading
I am going to tell you a story about last Monday: I just moved into a new house a few days prior, and my new landlord had a building inspector come in to the place while I was at work. She locked the doors on her way out but forgot to leave me the new keys when I arrived home last Monday night. I knocked on her door, she answered but seemed very ill, too weak to stand but still trying to help me find the right keys. None of the keys worked, so I climbed into new house via a window into the living room, plunging headfirst to the floor. When I got up, I unlocked the front door, walked back to my landlord and helped her get to bed. I asked if she was okay and if she needed a doctor, she said no. I let her know that she could call me if she needed anything, and got on with the night. Continue reading
I hate to even use the phrase “things are different now,” but it seems to arise often for people in my age range, people that were born pre-Internet, discovered their interests through tangible physical pursuits, and weren’t distracted by Snapchats, texts, Instagrams, Facebook and Twitter.
It was different, I just don’t want to be the old man scoffing in the corner about how things and how they might not always be for the better. For that reason, I will consider myself the middle age man doing pretty much the same thing. Continue reading
Earlier this week, I rediscovered David Bazan, Pedro The Lion, and his all-encompassing catalog of music through the Going Off Track podcast Bazan did a little over a year ago. (Actually, Going Off Track and the kinda awesome catalog of podcasts they’ve banged out in the past year or so deserves another altogether separate post: go there now though and start with Ray Cappo.) Continue reading
The one trick I have in this section, right around the 2:10 mark, took about three hours to do. I’ve never done it since and have no aspirations to. Thankfully, Bob Scerbo was patient enough with me to keep pointing the camera at me on that one fateful day in 2007. I think I went to Dallas the day after, and all I remember from my weekend in Texas was being sore. It’s emo to say but I still think it was worth it for that 6-8 seconds I managed to get my shit together on a stair set in front of a post office in downtown Jersey City.