Natural Koncept Hawaii tour - chrisnieratko.com

Natural Koncept Hawaii Tour

[ photos by Dan Bourqui ]

I was intrigued with the Hawaii-based skateboard company Natural Koncept long before I came on staff here at Big Brother. They were a total enigma wrapped in a shroud of smokini graffiti rats and mushrooms. As long as I can remember seeing their bizarre, unique and sometimes ridiculous ads in this magazine, I've always wondered, "Who the hell are these guys?" Everything they stood for, their whole image, was completely different than any other skateboard company that's out there now or ever. All I knew was that their ads were insane, and they were based in Hawaii, for Christ's sake. That's about as in the skateboard loop as being from New Jersey or Pakistan. But their ads kept me intrigued. Here you have these obnoxiously bright layouts, chock full of graffiti animals smoking joints with 30 frame, stamp-size sequences of the most amazing tricks, like Caz riding off his barn into a truck full of hay or some guy named Roger doing 360 kickflip roast beefs Although I'd never heard ot most of the kids in the ads. and the layouts were all loud and wild, the skating was unbelievable, and I was drawn into them. I'd find myself each month turning first to the Natural Koncept ad just to see the latest wild and zany ad. I later found out that Dave Carnie too was a closeted NK fan, eagerly awaiting each issue's video-grabbed sequence or poorly scanned photos. For some time, we listed the page number for NK's ad in the contents page so that everyone could avoid scrambling frantically through the magazine and go directly to the party.

I think my first question when taking this job, even before, "Do I really have to pay for my own parking space?" was, "What's the deal with Natural Koncept?" No one had an answer other than, "They're awesome," and, "Did you see the one with the barn?" But as far as background info went, no one seemed to know anything. Not even Heather Roach, our Ad Director. Her only response was how nice Sean Starn and Howie, the owners, were and how they always got their ads in and paid for them ahead of time.

Then one day, a few months back at the Long Beach Trade Show, I nearly pissed up the wrong tree. Or rat, rather. And it was possibly the best mistake I've ever made, short of pulling out on someone's back and saving the world the trouble of having to learn to deal with a nation full of my demon seeds. The situation was, as it typically is, one of blind drunkenness. A complete failure of all senses, with sight, reason and balance being my major problem areas. I had had a breakfast of orange juice mixed with everything. If it hadn't been for Heather that morning physically carrying me from one end of the convention center to the parking lot and home, I'm certain I'd be in Long Beach County Jail, or worse, in a rap/rock band in Orange County somewhere. From what she and Sean from Natural Koncept tell me, as we were making our way to the car, 1 stopped in front of the Natural Koncept booth and their six-foot-tall graffiti rat statue that was pissing into a bowl or a bong or something. The steady leak of rat urine made me want to piss as well. So, as Heather spoke to Sean, I pulled out my dick and went to piss in the bong with my new rat friend. Luckily Heather caught me in time, yelled at me to put my prick back in my pants and made some introductions.
"Chris, you can't piss in that fountain."
"Fuck say you. What the fuck? Shit," I believe was my response.
"Because this is the Natural Koncept booth. They're our friends. And advertisers."
I stopped listening after she said Natural Koncept. I began to yell noncoherent, emotional nonsense. Something to the effect of, "I love you guys. I'm serious! Fuck! Natural Koncept...that barn shit...the 'shrooms are great...orange shit, and I always wanted to go to Hawaii, but I'm gonna go piss."
And off I went looking for a better fire hydrant to wet, with Heather trailing behind and offering apologies on my behalf. Three days later I received a call from Sean at Natural Koncept, which went like this: "Hello?"
"Is this Chris?"
"Maybe, depends who this is."
"Do you still want to come to Hawaii?"
"Uh, yeah. Who is this?"
Sean explained how in my altered state I'd expressed interest in going to Hawaii. I didn't recall, but went along with it anyway. He asked if I still wanted to come and check out Hawaii. I said yes. Two weeks later I received plane tickets in the mail, and, shortly after that, I was on a plane with photographer Dan Bourqui headed for Oahu.

You might recall last issue I mentioned some Natural Koncept rider from L.A. had popped my inflatable pig at my birthday party. Well, on the flight out there, I sat next to NK rider Josh Zickert. I assumed since he was in L.A. that he was the kid that popped my pig. So I asked him. "Are you the little faggot that popped my pig?" He seemed confused. I tried to remind him. Then he realized I was talking about Larry Schuster. Josh told me he had heard the story and that Larry was terrified that I was going to kick his ass. And that he'd be in Hawaii for the trip. That made me smile. And as my prescribed flying medicine sent me off to cloud nine, I dreamt of beating up Larry and drowning him in the ocean.

In Hawaii we were greeted by Caz, Steve Ashcraft, the team manager, and Larry. I said hello to all except Larry. He went to shake my hand, and I laughed. I leaned into him and whispered in his ear, "I know it was you. You're dead." Clearly shook up, he slumped back into his seat as we took off to the hotel. The hotel was located right on the beach in Waikiki, and all of our penthouse suites faced the ocean. In times of drunken loneliness, I found myself pissing off the balcony onto the lovers below trying to enjoy a romantic evening on the beach. The view and elegance of our hotel room was only the first display of benevolence on the part of Natural Koncept. Throughout the trip I began to call Sean Starn my "Make a Wish Foundation." Anything I asked of him, he made happen. I began to understand why the retards love Tony Hawk and Make a Wish so much. It's as if no dream is too big. I'd ask Sean to go fishing, and he'd rent a private ten-hour charter boat, and we'd go out for mahi mahi. When I asked him to rent me a moped, he said that wasn't pimp enough for me and got me a Mercedes S class convertible to cruise the beach with. When I told him to pull over at McDonald's for a burger, he slipped me a 50-dollar bill and told me to keep the change. I'm not kidding. In my 12 days in Hawaii, I went deep-sea fishing, flew into volcanoes and waterfalls in a chopper and learned to surf from pro surfers. One night at the local strip club, Le Femme Nu, Sean opened the bar for the whole team to drink free ail night, then handed each rider $100 in singles. In private, he gave me $400 in singles and told me to have a good time. This was the tone of the entire trip. Money was thrown everywhere, which only made me wonder more about the nature of Natural Koncept and those joint-smoking rats, but with hundreds of dollars being spent to make sure there was enough beer in the van's cooler and the hotel refrigerators, I decided to leave the questions unasked.

For me the trip was rather casual. I'd wake up at 6:30 in the morning, grab a six pack and take a long walk on the beach. When I couldn't walk anymore, I'd lie down on the beach and fall asleep until my skin felt like it was bubbling under the tropical sun. That was pretty much my routine the whole trip. After the second day I began noticing an old man sitting at the same spot on the beach each day. His skin looked like a leather handbag left in the sun for centuries, his beard was long and matted, as was his hair, and his eyes always looked hollowed and empty as he stared off into the sea as he painted images of the ocean waves. One day I stopped and asked him if his wave paintings were for sale. He told me no one can own the ocean and that he throws away each painting after he finishes them. But he invited me to watch him. I was weary from walking, so I took a seat beside him. He was quite masterful with the brush. But I couldn't understand how his strokes could be so articulate without looking at the canvas. "How do you know which wave to paint?" I asked.
"I paint the first one I see, until the sun sets. Then I go home," he answered.
"But how can you paint without looking at the canvas?"
"It's easy. I'm blind," he told me. "I see," I responded, without thinking. "I don't," he laughed, "I paint the first wave I saw as a child, before I lost my sight. I've been painting it everyday since I was ten."
We sat there in silence for a while, then I told him I had to go. That my skin was bubbling and blistering. He told me white boys from the mainland shouldn't spend so much time in the sun, that it wasn't good for my health. I said goodbye and told him I'd see him the next day He laughed at himself again and responded, "I won't see you" and I could hear his cackle all the way back to the hotel.

The next day Choppy flew in from Portland just in time to make our flight to Maui, where we were doing a demo with CKY performing. He and I bonded right away. He was the only one other than myself that instinctively walked directly to the bar when we found out our 7 a.m. flight was delayed 25 minutes. The demo was good, from what I'm told. The sun was so bright and my eves were so fried that didn't see any skating at all. l guess Roger Carbujol went to jail the night before tor some bullshit B & E charge or something. I'm not sure so everyone was celebrating his release. Although he was only locked up half a day. But Hawaiians, like most people, don't need much of a reason to celebrate. Some band opened up tor CKY. and CKY opened up for my band, Hell's Satan's. Hell's Satan's consists of me screaming obscenities about dastardly sex on the microphone while CKY drummer Jess Margera plays guitar with a drumstick, Vern plays bass and Deron Miller plays drums. We are probably the greatest death metal band to ever form in the month of April. But we are definitely the reason that the YMCA will never allow another demo at that park and why bands will never play that park and why Brown Tom, who helped organize the demo with Clint Moncata from Volcolm, had to quit his job and is fleeing to the mainland. I suppose that Hell's Satan's racy lyrics in our hit song Twisted Sister were too much for all the parents of Maui and the next day the local papers attacked the music and us. After the demo, we went back to Clint's hotel where he had reserved ten rooms. Natural Koncept also was in this hotel until they all got kicked out for some reason and were forced to go to another hotel, where the cops came to fuck with Larry. Good thing I wasn't there. I would have told them that Larry was wanted in two states and to arrest him. Maybe I should have been there. That would have been funny. But I wasn't. I was back at the other hotel with all the yay-yo, tweaking out with Clint, his hot girlfriend, Sara (who is going to be in Playboy soon), and CKY, getting ready for the next show they had scheduled later that night at some sports bar.

The next morning we returned to Oahu and my program of early morning drinking on the beach. While I walked the coastline, looking for the old painter man, Dan Bourqui was off taking skate photos. I didn't see most of the skating, due to these solo missions, so looking at these photos is very exciting for me. I get to see the other trip that happened. The skating one. Looks like that was fun too. The days of skating that I can recall tagging along on were both to the North Shore, where I shredded some surf spot called Pipeline. It was my second day surfing ever. The North Shore is where Kale's and Steve's ramps are. They are both six feet high and within blocks of each other, but are the biggest contradictions in ramps I've ever seen. Steve's is clean of paint and marks and very solid and straightforward; he even has a four-foot mini on the platform of one side. Kale's ramp, like Kale, is fun and totally insane. There is a two-foot vert extension, a roll-up speed door, a silver fish mounted into the coping and a transfer into a rigged-up quarter-pipe that's held together by one or two screws and leads down a hill into a chicken coop. Kale rode it like it was any other ramp.

Other than that, my skate memories are nil. But my memories on a whole are amazing. I had such a good time in Hawaii that I considered quitting Big Brother and staying there permanently, making a living renting surfboards or collecting shells. But instead I took more flying medicine and came home to find Dennis laid up with a broken knee. All in all, Natural Koncept lived up to the insanity that you see in their ads. They are intense, wild and frantic and lots of fun. And I'll tell you what, after two weeks with them, I've decided they are my new favorite team, not just my favorite graphic designers. And all you kids out there making your sponsor-me tapes trying to get on Zero or any other big-name company, I'll let you in on a little secret: Natural Koncept took care of me, Dan Bourqui and their riders better than any company I've ever spent time with. If I was gonna send my tape anywhere, it'd be to Oahu, Hawaii.

Comments

mandela, howie
06 Mar 2007, 00:22

men can marry each other in hawaii!!

Chris
11 Mar 2007, 17:14

Should've gotten the painting out of the ocean when he walked off.