Friday, December 18, 2015
Monday, December 14, 2015
"THIS TIME" Is a little project Mark Choiniere and i have been working. He had the camera and i have these six pack abs so we teamed up to try to capture a few things i dig at this time in my life. It's sponsored by no one, more just to challenge our abilities.
Totally related but unrelated:
"I recall a time I set my soul on fire just for show. All it ever taught me was The more I learn the less I seem to know" I listened to these words from a Guy Clark song this morning.... and they felt welcome.
Max Schaaf | This Time from Mark Choiniere on Vimeo.
Saturday, December 5, 2015
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Rumble in Ramona 2015
took a trip down to the southern calif for my favorite -not contest- contest.
life was sweet. dropped off Jays paint, surfed at Swami's and skated with hero's, both new and old. and i didn't get hurt.
embarking on a zesty enterprise
rambling rose tattoo that has thorns
some many entitled honky's complaining about perfect waves and their mexican landscapers
griffen by panda express
he gets it
life was sweet. dropped off Jays paint, surfed at Swami's and skated with hero's, both new and old. and i didn't get hurt.
embarking on a zesty enterprise
rambling rose tattoo that has thorns
some many entitled honky's complaining about perfect waves and their mexican landscapers
griffen by panda express
tom
he gets it
he's 40+ the shadow still delivers news papers
Monday, October 12, 2015
i've posted before and so has everybody but.........
there are times i watch this and think everything else i listen to is a compromise, untrue of course but i think of the teenager in me that first heard this, equipped with the no label for this sound, some strange melodic punk, that had me hooked within the first 30 seconds. A singer with opinions and the brains and the band to back him up.
watching this from time to time always makes me have these overpowering emotions of wanting to smash everything around, scream at the top of my lungs and makes my eyes well up a bit. It makes me think we had a chance to change the world and make it less generic and more original and creative. Popularity is a strange thing...... why do the purists feel they have to run or disown something they "liked since the beginning" when it gets "too popular". Own up to the things you love, your probably not as original as you think. If it's good people are going to want it, those same people want so much garbage too, but that's theirs to live with.
I've skateboarded since i was about 10..... theres no question that i was born to skate, it found me and the story goes from there, it was not POPULAR at the time, in a way it was just another toy... and it was free because the board was left in front of my house. But that toy quickly became a tool, a tool get lost in. A tool used for expression, releasing young angst, bullshit detector, friend maker, jock pisser offer, tribe former, pain maker, and endless possibility device. Laughter, travel, my new voice, and the narrator of my new life..... came from that fucking skateboard.
Iv'e dealt with endless clowns, hang arounds, mongo mongoloids, wanna be's, verbal vomiters, trend humpers..... but all i had to do was move around them, push down the road and look ahead. I'm using all these labels, and fuck them because they don't matter. I'm a fool for trying to explain it. Skill level never mattered.... it was the look in the eyes. Rich, poor, blessed with talent, or born a cave man.... none mattered.... lets got SKATE.
Motorcycles...... the same thing in a way, but more convoluted. More bullshit. More testosterone or that lack there of being made up for by HAWG. But once again, goddamn they can be cool, and goddamn you can express yourself with your bike. Living in the NOW is nearly impossible but somewhere right between you hands on your handlebars you can fine that place.
So that leads me to this..... I've been Surfing, and I'm horrible at it. Anonymous dork with KOOK tattooed across his sunburnt forehead. Perfecting the nose dive, the over paddle to wave passing me by technique, and the shore break body bag. Don't let me fool you though, I've caught some waves and "gone down the line" my left calf has been fully tubed and I've starred in a few of my own movies showing only inside my head when i'm in the middle of a good ride on a mediocre wave. It started as one day a week, then two, now it's three. I know locals by name, i've learned a few surf terms, i've gone through a few bars of wax. I laugh at young bohemian long boarders that look like they're trying to do ballet on their boards but really look like they're shooting the duck on roller-skates..... it's that trying to hard to be something you're not thing. Skating gave me that intense bullshit detector. Like the new biker guy in the denim vest with all the patches and the chinese chopper parts all over his 2014 harley. It's too much. Just be a KOOK, trust me its rad. Paddle out in the world, realize your a grain of sand on whales ass and go for a ride.
I don't know, this is a ramble, but this song, this band, the recording of this show.... it has something in it that was not forced, did not need to labeled..... it is just perfect to me. Beautiful and original a complete mood maker.
blah........
watching this from time to time always makes me have these overpowering emotions of wanting to smash everything around, scream at the top of my lungs and makes my eyes well up a bit. It makes me think we had a chance to change the world and make it less generic and more original and creative. Popularity is a strange thing...... why do the purists feel they have to run or disown something they "liked since the beginning" when it gets "too popular". Own up to the things you love, your probably not as original as you think. If it's good people are going to want it, those same people want so much garbage too, but that's theirs to live with.
I've skateboarded since i was about 10..... theres no question that i was born to skate, it found me and the story goes from there, it was not POPULAR at the time, in a way it was just another toy... and it was free because the board was left in front of my house. But that toy quickly became a tool, a tool get lost in. A tool used for expression, releasing young angst, bullshit detector, friend maker, jock pisser offer, tribe former, pain maker, and endless possibility device. Laughter, travel, my new voice, and the narrator of my new life..... came from that fucking skateboard.
Iv'e dealt with endless clowns, hang arounds, mongo mongoloids, wanna be's, verbal vomiters, trend humpers..... but all i had to do was move around them, push down the road and look ahead. I'm using all these labels, and fuck them because they don't matter. I'm a fool for trying to explain it. Skill level never mattered.... it was the look in the eyes. Rich, poor, blessed with talent, or born a cave man.... none mattered.... lets got SKATE.
Motorcycles...... the same thing in a way, but more convoluted. More bullshit. More testosterone or that lack there of being made up for by HAWG. But once again, goddamn they can be cool, and goddamn you can express yourself with your bike. Living in the NOW is nearly impossible but somewhere right between you hands on your handlebars you can fine that place.
So that leads me to this..... I've been Surfing, and I'm horrible at it. Anonymous dork with KOOK tattooed across his sunburnt forehead. Perfecting the nose dive, the over paddle to wave passing me by technique, and the shore break body bag. Don't let me fool you though, I've caught some waves and "gone down the line" my left calf has been fully tubed and I've starred in a few of my own movies showing only inside my head when i'm in the middle of a good ride on a mediocre wave. It started as one day a week, then two, now it's three. I know locals by name, i've learned a few surf terms, i've gone through a few bars of wax. I laugh at young bohemian long boarders that look like they're trying to do ballet on their boards but really look like they're shooting the duck on roller-skates..... it's that trying to hard to be something you're not thing. Skating gave me that intense bullshit detector. Like the new biker guy in the denim vest with all the patches and the chinese chopper parts all over his 2014 harley. It's too much. Just be a KOOK, trust me its rad. Paddle out in the world, realize your a grain of sand on whales ass and go for a ride.
I don't know, this is a ramble, but this song, this band, the recording of this show.... it has something in it that was not forced, did not need to labeled..... it is just perfect to me. Beautiful and original a complete mood maker.
blah........
Monday, September 28, 2015
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
some photos by Ben the Boog from Belden 2015
all photos stolen from BEN THE BOOG with out permission.
hi....high, up high in the Sierras. On the 1947 Knuckle, Low in the saddle with the OL on the 4x8 pillion pad for over 500 miles. I guess the older i get the more it hurts, and the less time i have to do these things, so it all balances out and everything works out in the end..... In the end i'd like to know it wasn't all easy and endurance still beats comfort and the engineers from 1947 still create fire that burns ours eyes with unburned fuel and cleanses them when they well up from memories of days like these. Kick it and make it go till it runs too low then repeat. Forearms burn from vibration, and your thoughts spin forward down the road. I think the relief is that it's forward and not behind you where the unchangeable lie in 50weight drops on 110 degree asphalt. What the fuck am i made of this day? Go to the end, look way down that road, are you a gambling man? Would you trade a good medical prescrition, lazy boyz, tapioca pudding and Florida ........for these scars, a story, a nostaligic grin, a worn right knee and an ornery personality that comes from the physical pain that is the payment from this good time? This time, the time i ran it a little too hard, danced a little too long, indulged a little too much, and robbed both Peter and Paul to pay for it, knowing in the end they'll get their money returned when i buy advil from them and they lay me on the kitchen floor and dig
their heels into my seized lower back laughing at a foolish aging man child.
max schaaf september 2015
hi....high, up high in the Sierras. On the 1947 Knuckle, Low in the saddle with the OL on the 4x8 pillion pad for over 500 miles. I guess the older i get the more it hurts, and the less time i have to do these things, so it all balances out and everything works out in the end..... In the end i'd like to know it wasn't all easy and endurance still beats comfort and the engineers from 1947 still create fire that burns ours eyes with unburned fuel and cleanses them when they well up from memories of days like these. Kick it and make it go till it runs too low then repeat. Forearms burn from vibration, and your thoughts spin forward down the road. I think the relief is that it's forward and not behind you where the unchangeable lie in 50weight drops on 110 degree asphalt. What the fuck am i made of this day? Go to the end, look way down that road, are you a gambling man? Would you trade a good medical prescrition, lazy boyz, tapioca pudding and Florida ........for these scars, a story, a nostaligic grin, a worn right knee and an ornery personality that comes from the physical pain that is the payment from this good time? This time, the time i ran it a little too hard, danced a little too long, indulged a little too much, and robbed both Peter and Paul to pay for it, knowing in the end they'll get their money returned when i buy advil from them and they lay me on the kitchen floor and dig
their heels into my seized lower back laughing at a foolish aging man child.
max schaaf september 2015
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
sweet chariot -skate and destroy-
this is my buddys band i've mentioned before... i think this song is tooooo good.
TURN IT UP
https://soundcloud.com/sheabones/skate-and-destroy
TURN IT UP
https://soundcloud.com/sheabones/skate-and-destroy
Friday, August 28, 2015
who isn't? --Happy Friday--
everything done perfect. Ozzy is a Unicorn. I always wonder who thumbs downs these videos
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
ride it like you sold it. taking the $25 knuckle down the coast for 400 steady miles of happiness.
paso robles... they used to have a good car show in this town, now it's just a place to rest
that little bar off the 1, above santa barbara..... you know the one.
pornography, legs open, ankles on shoulders, expensive gold plated underwear, and a tight hole.
i love my new joe king helmet and i'm not kissing paulo's ass because its probably hairy or shaved from his body building days. stainless kickstand bracket with double trouble toggle, extended the shift arm 1 inch, generator haircut, and dylans homemade bates clutch cable from period correct chicken coop wire.
lubrication and maintenance is important. Don't eat fast food, it's horrible for you and our planet,
everybody wanted to buy a $25 dollar ticket from us even the fuzz, the long hug was awkward and i'm still not sure why he made me bend over and touch my toes.
it was about 105 degrees in the valley, there was no place more welcome than chattys. cold beer, friends and stories, kind of how you would dream being in a "cool grown up situation" as a kid might be. I'm joking but i'm serious too.... it just feels corny to write that and makes me feel vulnerable about my thoughts.
thanks for stopping by the 4Q blog.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
found this song and really dig it. "Some words are better left To whisper only to the wind Some men kill with bullets Lord, others use a pen"
To the sad-eyed misinterpreted
Hung-up child of clay
So the drunken poets pretty words
Didn't help you find your way
Was it your mistake for thinking
He was born before his time?
Or was it his for thinking
He might save you with his flimsy rhyme?
T Total Tommy took a toke of tea
Black cats backig' up a big oak tree
Tick tocks ticking out a tune on time
Last words looking for a line to rhyme
Saw fish swimming in the sea-saw-sea
But me, well, I'm only looking
I see so many with no place tonight
Their sleepy heads to lay
With pen in hand I take a stand
I got nothing deep to say
To the sad-eyed misinterpreted
Hung-up child of clay
So the drunken poets pretty words
Didn't help you find your way
Was it your mistake for thinking
He was born before his time?
Or was it his for thinking
He might save you with his flimsy rhyme?
T Total Tommy took a toke of tea
Black cats backig' up a big oak tree
Tick tocks ticking out a tune on time
Last words looking for a line to rhyme
Saw fish swimming in the sea-saw-sea
But me, well, I'm only looking
I see so many with no place tonight
Their sleepy heads to lay
With pen in hand I take a stand
I got nothing deep to say
Some words are better left
To whisper only to the wind
Some men kill with bullets
Lord, others use a pen
Sidewalks singing of a troubled time
Small talks marching to a nursery rhyme
Day trippers tripping on a morning high
Stop watch watching for a chance to die
Bad dogs barking up an empty tree
But me, well, I'm only crying
Sidewalks singing of a troubled time
Small talks marching to a nursery rhyme
Day trippers tripping on a morning high
Stop watch watching for a chance to die
Bad dogs barking up an empty tree
But me, well, I'm only crying
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Friday, May 29, 2015
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
had the privilege of writing this for SPITFIRE the other day about their one and only video that came out 22 years ago.
"Guard this copy with your life, there's only two in existence!" what Ruben meant when he said this to me was, there are only two with this soundtrack. There are only two that have "Mean Street" perfectly timed to raise the hairs on the back of your neck during Cardiel's opening part. In 1993 spitfire wheels made their first video. We were all basically kids, being that it was 22 years ago.
It was the time of low budget videos and no major planning. Ruben Orkin was our faithful team manager and "Director" of the video but most of all our friend. Rube's throaty voice could often be heard bellowing out various names of team riders followed up by some exclamation of stoke about them. The team was his life and he was like a proud parent when he mentioned anyone from Billy Valdez to Fred Gall to Ed Templeton. So when the video was being made you might receive a phone call at 10am from Rube exclaiming "dude spitfire video, lets get some footage", I can't really put into words how he sounded over the phone, but it'd put a smile on your face where you were kind of stoked but also sort of laughing at the way Rube spoke and his endless excitement.
Most everyone in this video spent only a day or two filming, maybe some a little more, but it was a different time in skate videos, where it was just up to the rider to control the destiny of their part. So what you get is a slice of time, a sealed capsule of 1993's Spitfire team, but with the original music the rider picked. It's a completely different experience with this music and definitely adds more personality. It's a pretty strange mix of riders especially to look back on now and see all the various directions we've gone. Spitfire will always be fast and tough to me, it'll be Coco's bad reputation, Julien's canned heat, and Cardiel's mean street.
Ruben Orkin (r.i.p.)... that fire burns forever.
- Max Schaaf 2015
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Friday, May 1, 2015
hello. I'm still here. Life is good, just a little busy. Going to try to keep this thing going......
some 35mm film from the old shop.
feeling nostalgic.
feeling nostalgic.
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