Table Of Contents
Drool...The East Coast/West
Coast Gossip Column.
The Long-Awaited Movie Reviews
RECORD REVIEWS
Blink-182: Dude Ranch
Me First and the Gimme Gimmes: Have a Ball
This
Reporter goes Snowboarding: A Tale of Killington: OPENING DAY
One woman
party....a night in the life(throw down in lane 15)
The Life and Times of a Pro Snowboarder...With
Kyla Duffy
a.k.a. The Kyla Duffy Interview
How to be a Killington Local..a 12 step plan
What Happened to Jibbing?
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***EDITOR'S NOTE***
This would be issue 2 of the magazine we have all come to know as YO
BEAT. Due to some scandal/conspiracy started by the first issue, i would like
to take this section to re-itterate our disclaimer. The opinions in the magazine
are that of the reporters, who are very opinionated people, and are not
usually based on fact. If you find yourself offended by something written DO
NOT READ IT. Other than that, we are continuosly working on illustrating
our writings, and now that the mountain is open there will be more on the
snowboarding tip. so enjoy. cheers.
the long-awaited
Movie Reviews
THE SHOW
Complete with a Slick Rick exclusive from
behind bars, a "dinner with washed up
rappers", and a fight between Meth and the
rest of the clan, this movie is the bomb
diggity. I was especially pleased to see RUN
DMC receiving the mad props they very
much deserve, all the while outfitted in
black demin get-ups and old skool adidas
kicks straight out the 80's. The only fallback
of the movie was one of the angst-ridden
washed up rappers who goes by the name of
a certain lousianian genre of food, claiming
he coined the phrase "yes yes ya'll."
Everyone knows that the true invetor, along
with all of his other original material such
as stop that train as well and both the back
beat from and actual phrase "ice ice baby"
was none other than my personal hero
Robert "Vanilla ice" Van Winkle.
Pee-Wee's Great Adventure
Starring Paul Reubans, who once exposed
his own pee-wee herman to the generous
public, this masterpiece, care of one Tim
Burton is a flick and a half. Although I
consider the entire movie to be a highlight,
some especially ingenious segments included
the tequilla dance-off in the biker "blue
oyster" bar, the convo with Dotty Henson in
Chuck's cyclo-rama, the scene where P.W.
hisses at the ruffians in a dark alley, and
the unforgettable large marge episode. Just
so everyone who's reading this knows, my
birthday falls on the 29th of April and I
would greatly appreciate the box-set of
tapes from the Pee-Wee Herman
show.**On a side note, i'd just like to add
that I was terribly dissapointed with Big
Top Pee-Wee, although it certainly had its
moments (read:Midge).***
RECORD REVIEWS
Blink-182 DUDE RANCH
What do you get when you hand a bunch of So Cal bros instruments and allow them to cut a
record? Blink-182's new album Dude Ranch. If you purchase this album you will never
have to buy another album by a band from Cali, because if you have one you have them all.
Definate ups on this record include numerous references to crack, naked pictures of the
band members inside the album sleeve, and the fact that one of the songs is called Dammit
(yes kids, you've seen it on MTV.) All in all Blink-182 is a punk band that write songs
about girls, wear wife beaters, and make clever, yet charming videos which sell records.
If
you are a fan of the CA punk scene pick up this record, even if you are upset about the
selling out of punk.
Me First and the Gimme Gimmes HAVE A BALL
What could be better then all your favorite hits from the past (i.e. Leaving on a Jet
Plane,
Rocketman) done up in true So Cal style? This effort from Fat Mike's side project is
certainly worth a listen. Not only do they trash themselves ont he album sleeve, and have
pictures of bowling, but they are fine musicians as well. With standouts ranging from the
Barry Manilow cover, to the piano stylings of Elton John and Billy Joel, this record has
something for everyone. Also, the Gimme Gimmes have a wide range of 7"s so if you are
one of the few remaining people to own a turntable, i reccomend those as well. An
excellent
record for those who refuse to grow up, and those who have forgotten the past.
This Reporter
goes Snowboarding: A Tale of Killington: OPENING DAY
Every year in the beginning of October, Killington a.k.a. K Rock a.k.a. The Beast of the
East, opens thier doors to the few 'core locals who have equiptment to ruin. This very
year,
that day came on Thursday, October the Second. Needing to protect my journalistic
integrity, and because I hadn't been since July, I treked up to the mountain, board in
hand.
Almost immediatly I had been informed that in Ktown's quest to fuck me over, the lift had
been closed while they waited for glue to dry (dont ask.) Stoked on the fact that i was
going
to have to either hike, or not ride at all, I decided that i could take a scenic Skyeship
ride
to the top, and then not have nearly as far to walk. I made my way over to complete
opposite side of the mountain, where after withstanding countless cracks by the liftees
for
carrying a snowboard (favorite line: I'm sorry I cant let you bring that thing on the
lift,) I
got to ride up the skyeship with an elderly bus tour. Once at the top I was privledged to
hear a few more good lines from the top liftees and then I was on my way. After struggling
with an oversized map(all 7 mountains included) to find how to get over to the other side,
I
realized that I could see where I needed to go and had no need for it in the first place.
*My
disclaimer here is Oct. 2nd is way to early in the season to do any hiking at all.
I finally arrived at the glades trail, which had been equipted with several inches of man
made ice and even some water hazards. I brillianatly strapped on my board sititng directly
under the lift (which was of course open now that I had hiked up) where I was a prime
target for all the hipper-than-thou skiers to spit on me. I got to ride, even if there
were
more dirt spots then snow. I must say I found that it was an excelent opportunity to brush
up on my jibbing, which was a little rusty due to the fact i havent done it since it
became
un-cool in '95.
Big shout outs to Killington for having the longest season with the least possible good
days. I am sure that this must be some sort of record. They are closed now, because they
only made enough snow to last for two days, but they are on the books as being first to
open and they can put out a press release on it. They will re-open, or the pipe will open
Nov. 1st, if you can ride, I hope to see you there.
One
woman party....a night in the life
(throw down in lane 15)
Ever since they took clueless off of the TGIF line-up, I've been at a loss for
entertainment
on Fri. nights. Luckilly, I've been able to resort to illin at the local bowling
alley/discotech
with select members of the VIP (vanilla ice posse) and JMP (Jo momma's posse (R.I.P) )
posse nice's, as a means of erasing the trauma the terrible TGIF line-up has created. Big
leage bowling is quite an ill sport, and thanks to a DJ who must own all 8 volumes of
bootea
base classics and some psychadelic disco ball/twirling graphics action, the joint is
always
BUMPIN. (These unique yet necessary qualities are definetly noteworthy, considering that
the highlights of big league bolwing used to be the WWF video game, the shady figga who
regulated the arcade, and the fights which regularly occured outside, bringing West
Roxbury, Ma to the big screen via COPS in boston.) Here's a summary of one of my really
exciting nights with the posse. Pretend to enjoy.
We entered the allies uncertain of what the night would bring, immediately entrhralled
with
the soul train facade that surrounded us. Among the lucky ill figgas present were none
other than mc post, erica the 5 foota, dwayne a.k.a. the trash man, GATS s squared (girl
across the street's sister) and myself, who will be referred to only as one woman party,
for
fear of being stalked by my generous public. We quickly threw on our snappy shoes, some
of us being so fortunate as to snag a pair of velcro ones, and hit lane 15, quite lucky
for the
professional bowling couple next to us. The ever important bowling order was established,
and we quickly got down to business, after noting the sign picturing a circle with a cross
through a ciggarette and an unmistakable FATTY, so much for hittin the ism while rollin
balls. Mc post quickly whipped out a can of whup ass, rackin up the high scores, and the
trash impressed all with more than one goose-egg, proably because of the distractions
stemming from the sorority party in lane 8. Someone, whose name will not be mentioned,
accidentally started bowling with the professional bowling couple in lane 14's balls
because
they were prettier than the ghetto balls which he/she had been previously using. Luckilly,
no beef was ensued, this person realized his/her mistake, and everything was chill. As an
incredibly sketchy scenario played itself out in lane 12, possibly an EXTREMELY close
father-daughter outing or an "I married him strictly for the love even tho he's a
millionaire
and about to die" wife and hubby night on the town, mc post and one woman party
scored
the 40 oz, the (rollin in my) 64, AND the ever-lucky double 69 (after a two-point
deduction
for the use of extra balls), talk about luck. At some point during all of this good time
had by
all, the trashman upset his groin injury, to the dissapointment of all, and the amusement
of
some, and MC post was seen testing out the surrogate cardboard abilities of the waxed up
floors. After a few more skillfull tosses of the ball, the posse decided to be out like
the pat
benetar look and possibly pick up some frat boys at a pajama jammy jam occuring at a
nearby school. Besides a near drive-by while rollin dice on the corner and deciding
whether
or not the white hat wearin hockey players at the fiesta were worth gas money, everything
was chill as Robert Van winkle. I won't bore you with the rest of the details of the
night,
mostly consisting of watching 14-year old frat boys in training get their swerve on on the
dance floor and meet and greets with people I don't know, but I hope you actually made it
to this point in my story. If you're ever in West Roxbury, MA on a fri night, all I gots
to
say is break out the leisure suit and afro pic and get yo-self down to the allies.
Look for forthcoming additions to "one woman party..a week in the life"
including confrontations with an alkee
houswife and a profile of mahhgie value straight out the double V (value village to the
those less informed.)
The Life and Times of a Pro Snowboarder
with Kyla Duffy
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****also turned in as a paper in English class so take notice how gramatically correct it
is.
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“I’ve gotta find something to do with myself while we do
this,” Kyla said to me anxiously,
her eyes searching around the room for some small task to keep herself occupied,
“I’ll be
able to think better if I’m busy.” She finally settled down with a piggy
bank on her lap. “Maybe if I roll these I’ll be able to go grocery
shopping,” she said
referring to the large pile of coins she had made in front of her.
“All right, you ready there Miss Duffy?” I asked.
“Yeah, shoot.”
“Okay, how old are you?” I asked.
“Oh god, you know that answer to that. I bet next your going to ask where I’m
from,” she
said looking at me skeptically.
I looked sheepishly down at my questions, “I guess I’ll just answer these myself
then.”
So here’s the 4-1-1 on Kyla Duffy. She is a nineteen year old professional
snowboarder
from Absecon, New Jersey. She moved up to Vermont three years ago, when she was
sixteen, and has been living on her own since then.
Satisfied with not having to answer redundant questions, Kyla started to tell me about
living on her own. “It sucks,” she said, “because I’m scared of the
dark, but it’s really
easy. As long as you pay your bills when you get them you’ll do fine. It gets bad
when you
forget to pay and next month it’s for twice as much. Then you all of a sudden
realize that you don’t have enough money. The best part about it though, is you can
go to
Dunkin Donuts at two in the morning if you want.”
Part of being a professional snowboarder is traveling, so Kyla’s been all over the
world.
“I’ve snowboarded in every state that has snow,” she said gleaming with
pride,
“except Washington, and Montana, but I’m sure I’ll make it out there soon
enough.”
“How about overseas? I’ve heard about New Zealand and Japan.”
“Yeah, I went to New Zealand and left early. I was there for a photo shoot but I
didn’t like
it. Everyone thinks going out of the United States is so great, but you get there and
it’s just
like, what the fuck. The culture’s so different, you find ourself wondering how these
people
live. The food is horrible.” She stopped for a minute to catch her
breath, “You getting all this?” she asked.
“Yeah, keep going,” I said.
“Japan is awesome. I was out there for a pipe competition. I fell on my head dropping
in. I
flew halfway across the world just to embarrass myself. I had fun there though. They have
these cute little snow monkeys. You’d think they were white because they are called
snow
monkeys and all, but they are brown and they are everywhere! It was
my first time to Japan, so the people I was with decided to play a joke on me. All the
Americans who’ve already been there think it’s really funny to tell the people
who haven’t
that if you look at the monkeys directly in the eyes or show your teeth they will attack.
I
was terrified to smile the entire time I was there.”
“I’ll try to remember that next time I’m in Japan,” I replied, trying
to picture Kyla
doing her best not to smile. “What about competing?”
“Well, you heard my Japan story about it, but basically it’s the main thing I
like to do with
snowboarding. It’s also one of the main reasons I left Scott, they just weren’t
interested in
it.” She had recently quit riding for Scott Snowboards, and this answered my question
why.
“So you like the pressure then I take it.”
“I try not to let it get to me. If you go into a contest saying, ‘I’m not
gonna win anyway, so
I might as well just have fun’ you’ll usually come out on top. If you let the
pressure get to
you, you fall on your head. I let it get to me a lot.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed a trend in your stories towards falling on your head,”
I said.
“Sure, you wanna hear another one?”
She seemed to be enjoying telling me her stories of misfortune, so I wasn’t about to
stop
her.
“Okay, I was at the first huck fest, 3 years ago, and Auralie Sayers was there. I
thought
Auralie was really good, and I decided I wanted to beat her. If she was gonna do a 360
then
I was gonna do a 540. I got myself all psyched and it was finally my turn. I dropped in,
caught my edge on the lip, and landed on my head. I almost died.”
“So is that why you don’t do big air contests?” I asked, referring to her
tendency to drop
out of them after her practice run.
“That, and I can envision my neck snapping. Not to mention it hurts my knees,”
she said.
“Hey look at this, I’ve got more quarters then pennies.”
I could tell by this statement that she was losing interest in my line of questioning.
Scanning over my questions for which to ask next, I settled on one about her parents.
Kyla talks to her parents a lot. More then most people that live with theirs do. I asked
her to tell me about them.
“I love my parents, we get along great. We really always have too. Well, except in
8th
grade, I wanted to kill my dad because he wouldn’t let me stay out after ten. I guess
everyone goes through that though.”
“It must have helped only living with them for sixteen years, I’d imagine.”
“Probably, ”she said, “I wish they lived closer. I’m glad I lived up
here though. Even if I
did get picked on for being ‘the little kid’.”
“Any stories about that? I heard one about a table and some duct tape, any
truth?’
Kyla laughed, “Oh, that,” she said,” I’ll tell you about it.”
“When I first moved up here I used to hang out at East Street all the time, that was
before
they got evicted. Anyway, one night my friends Brad and Lunchbox decided it would be
funny to duct tape me to a chair. It was funny, but I didn’t think so at the time of
course. I
tried to get out, I had to smack my head on the bath tub a few times before I finally did,
but
once I succeeded I was super pissed. Lunchbox had locked himself in his
room and Brad, who was sure I’d be there all night, was sitting on the couch. My
reaction
was to get even, so I got a hold of a paintball gun, which I didn’t think was loaded.
I just
wanted to scare him, so I pointed it at Brad and cocked the trigger. It’s a good
thing he was
reading a magazine because it was loaded, and it would have hit him right in the
face.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that one, and Kyla had to stop for a minute to regain
her composure. She was almost finished wrapping her coins at this point anyway.
So,” I said, “I have to ask, if you could do it all over again, would you change
anything?”
“Right now, no. Ask me again in 40 years, I’ll tell you how things turned
out.”
for the un-hip.....
How to be a Killington Local*
a 12 step plan
1. Drink a lot
2. Smoke a lot
3. When everyone else is snowboarding sit ant the bottom
of the pipe and smoke cigarettes.
4. Convince yourself that you really do snowboard better
when your stoned.
5. Pick your niche and stick with it, i.e. "So what there's
two feet of fresh up there, the pipe will suck, so I'm not
going."
6. Talk shit about everyone.
7. Dont' talk to anyone you dont know unless they are pro
and you can drop thier name later.
8. Speak bad english.
9. Never get up to he mountain before 10 unless it is a
contest day, in which case, send someone up early to
register you.
10. The night before any major contest get completely
plastered so that the next morning you are to hungover to
walk, then when you finally do make it up to the hill,
rather than snowboarding, just drink more.
11. Call any girl who wont sleep with you a whore.
12. Kick Josh Church's ass whenever possible and
complain about him constantly.
***Do not try this at home. While the steps above may
seem very simple they are not. If you go to Killington, or
any other mountain for that matter, and act in such a
manner, you will probably either be shunned, or thrown
directly off the mountain.
What Happened to Jibbing?
What do you get when you cross a tree hugger with a
snowboarder?
A jibber!
Okay, not very funny, but it shouldn't be, because the
jibbing conspiracy is a serious matter. I remember the first
time I strapped on a snowboard, high backs were a thing of
the past and baseless bindings were all the rage. Now, five
years later, High backs are the only way, and baseless
bindings were dismissed with the snake board craze. All of
these advancements have led to the demise of an ancient
art so fondly refered to as jibbing. While no one will admit
to enjoying sliding a tree or bonking a barrel, i dont know
too people who can honestly say they've never done it.
After the watching the new Mack Dawg film, one can only
determine that jibbing will be back. J.P. Walker showed
no hesitation is sliding that car repeatedly, and the number
of hand rails practically out numbered the hucking
sections.
While the hucking craze provides us with our thrills and
spills, it will only be a matter of time until all the hucker's
retire with broken necks and busted up knees. They say
you should learn from others mistakes, so if this happens,
no one will huck, and jibbing will be inevitable. This
reporter is all for jibbing. I think it is an important part of
snowboarding's past, and hey, I'm pretty darn good at it.
YO beat is.....
Editors and otherwise Important, cool enough to be paid
staff members:
Sinner
One Woman Party
Staff photographer:
Monty the slack ass bitch.
contributing writers:
Dave "Snoman1520"
E mail YO Beat if you know whats good for ya. Just click
here foo.
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email adress to yobeatmag@aol.com
*marriage proposals, letters to the editor, death threats,
mail bombs, plea bargains, large unmarked bill, personal
checks, passwords, nintendo codes, calculator programs,
complaints, compliments and stupid questions can also be
sent to the above adress.
NOW GO TO THE YO BEAT MAGAZINE HOME PAGE
(9/28/98)
October 25th--over and out