I'm not fond of starting my foray into blogosphere on such a somber note, but it was the motivation for starting it. It seemed better than relegating it to the bowels of myspace or the insignificant news blurbs on facebook or twitter. But enough negativity. This isn't the time or the place.
A little under a week ago, my friend Anthony Gallegos informed me that James Short had been in a motorcycle accident while on his way to New Philly. I was in shock. I still am.It's strange that I began to recall every conversation I had with James - his late night tendencies, catching him after all day sessions, telling me Ben Schwab had liked the photos I had caught of him at LA All Day (big compliment for me), his desire to move out to LA along with Ben 1st of the new year, and deciding Santa Ana was where he would end up.
I remembered seeing him at Monday Night Skate in Long Beach, and then on Saturday at LA All Day at the Santa Monica Boys and Girl's Club. I was dropping off a bag into my friend's car in the adjacent parking lot and out of nowhere, James said hi. We talked about why he was out here, the springs over in Santa Clarita, wishing he could stay here and soon enough, he would. I got a sneak peak at some xsjado product, and he tried to sell me copies of Fade Nation and Too Faded so Ben and him could stay afloat that week. He was out here until that Tuesday, so he wanted to enjoy his time. All the while, I snapped a few photos of him - bright burgundy shirt with the xsjado logo across the center, semi tight blue jeans, a worry free smile. That was one of his defining features in the times that I met him.
I would meet him once more at the following Monday Night Skate. Cess slides to grinds, toe rolls a plenty. Done with style. He was so good at that! He was trying to sell some Kizer slimlines to me or anyone else who was interested. Too bad I was broke. At the end of the night, James said his goodbyes, shooting photos with his new found friends. I even snuck a photo with him. It was for the blog he said. I took down his email and aim, thinking what an incredibly nice guy he was.
When I heard he had a be-mag interview, I was excited for him. He showed me some photos of the photographer he was working with. Definitely nodded in approval. He wanted to shoot in industrial areas, get some grit into his photos. I heard Ben and Anthony were going to grill him with a few people. I think only three interviews made the cut. He posted on his myspace "be mag be mag be mag" onto a bulletin title. I scrambled and read his interview. Loved the photo of him doing the 360 grab. The smile on his face was all fun - what rollerblading should be. I asked him about it and he said it took him 10 tries to get that expression. I asked him when he moved out here, we should shoot something, even if it isn't for anything. He didn't care, we could submit them somewhere if they were good. Flash forward a week later and I caught him online late night. I said did he ever sleep? Yeah, when the sun was peaking out. God help us if we ever hung out - two night owls. Oh the photo shoots! he laughed and said he was going to bed.
There are many more flashbacks, flicks and slides I have of James. But these are the most prominent. I didn't want them to fade. It's funny, rollerblading doesn't want him to fade either. Monday Night Skate in Dallas commemorated him. People who had never met James saying all the best. Rollerblading really is that small when everyone knows when someone dies. For all our quips and qualms over tight vs baggy, going big vs tech, creative vs traditional, and the countless other arguments, we care about our own. It's the strangest community brought together by a sport currently in grey-zone obscurity. I have had the most amazing experiences, traveled to lands far and wide, met the best people - all because of some molded plastic, cloth and wheels on my feet.
James, thanks for the affirmation that there is still some good in people. I wish you had come out to California and lived out your dreams. Played a few shows in your band with Ben, with a crowd of your adopted family cheering you on. (That is rollerblading to me - a family. No matter where you go, if you meet a rollerblading, you share a passion, and instantly that makes you friend, not foe.) I would have loved to have known you better. Life goes on though. The living will remember the dead as best they can. Through commemoration...through memories.
I would meet him once more at the following Monday Night Skate. Cess slides to grinds, toe rolls a plenty. Done with style. He was so good at that! He was trying to sell some Kizer slimlines to me or anyone else who was interested. Too bad I was broke. At the end of the night, James said his goodbyes, shooting photos with his new found friends. I even snuck a photo with him. It was for the blog he said. I took down his email and aim, thinking what an incredibly nice guy he was.
When I heard he had a be-mag interview, I was excited for him. He showed me some photos of the photographer he was working with. Definitely nodded in approval. He wanted to shoot in industrial areas, get some grit into his photos. I heard Ben and Anthony were going to grill him with a few people. I think only three interviews made the cut. He posted on his myspace "be mag be mag be mag" onto a bulletin title. I scrambled and read his interview. Loved the photo of him doing the 360 grab. The smile on his face was all fun - what rollerblading should be. I asked him about it and he said it took him 10 tries to get that expression. I asked him when he moved out here, we should shoot something, even if it isn't for anything. He didn't care, we could submit them somewhere if they were good. Flash forward a week later and I caught him online late night. I said did he ever sleep? Yeah, when the sun was peaking out. God help us if we ever hung out - two night owls. Oh the photo shoots! he laughed and said he was going to bed.
There are many more flashbacks, flicks and slides I have of James. But these are the most prominent. I didn't want them to fade. It's funny, rollerblading doesn't want him to fade either. Monday Night Skate in Dallas commemorated him. People who had never met James saying all the best. Rollerblading really is that small when everyone knows when someone dies. For all our quips and qualms over tight vs baggy, going big vs tech, creative vs traditional, and the countless other arguments, we care about our own. It's the strangest community brought together by a sport currently in grey-zone obscurity. I have had the most amazing experiences, traveled to lands far and wide, met the best people - all because of some molded plastic, cloth and wheels on my feet.
James, thanks for the affirmation that there is still some good in people. I wish you had come out to California and lived out your dreams. Played a few shows in your band with Ben, with a crowd of your adopted family cheering you on. (That is rollerblading to me - a family. No matter where you go, if you meet a rollerblading, you share a passion, and instantly that makes you friend, not foe.) I would have loved to have known you better. Life goes on though. The living will remember the dead as best they can. Through commemoration...through memories.
1 comments:
I'm so sorry, dear. No one should die so young. Everyone should live to be at least 95. It must be terrible to lose a friend. Hang in there.
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