Sunday

I spent the majority of the day dreaming about skateboarding and what types of things look good photographically. I sorted through a bunch of old shit at my parents house in search of old mini dv tapes that I have. I found like a hundred of them and began to catalogue them. I hung out at the skate park for a while, kickin' rocks around with old time buddy Mike Schmidt. Long story short Mike is down to film a part for the up coming video project. He invited me over for a beer and I told him that I'm not into that right now. He thought that was good that I was playing it cool. Fifteen minutes later he say's: "Hammy, come over and have a fuckin' beer!" So I gave in. I spent an hour or so hanging out with him and Shasta talking about old music and indulging ice cold Busch beer. Mike is fucking hilarious! He is so stoked to be a dad, it's awesome. Their daughter Gretta, was in the mix but she was a little too grumpy to be fraternizing with a ginger like me. He played me a bunch of old Kenny Rogers, and Kris Kristofferson songs and we sat in the yard. In the back he's got a pair of motorcycles and a bunch of little girly stuff that belongs to Gretta. Between the hogs is this little like launch ramp that Gretta plays on, he explained. Apparently she can't drop in yet but she still hits it. I noticed a rather large psychedelic skull drawn on it with sidewalk chalk and I made a joke that she drew it. To which Mike said: "Fuck no! I drew that!"