Bloggy McBlogface

Like the good folks pictured above, we all like a good haver, and this is the primary (non) purpose of the Frontside Blog.

This gruesome foursome were chewing the fat one early afternoon at the mini bandstand on Dundee’s Perth Road, a spot most conducive for turning a wee sit down ‘rest’ into a large-scale impromptu perty and haverfest. Two or three people would soon turn into a dozen or more as wanderers passing on this legendary thoroughfare recognized a friendly face and hopped the wee wall and planted their erses on the soothing grass.

Local skaters knew the Perth Road well – where to follow cable lines, where to ride the road, which pubs to pop into.

Pubs aside, there was no better place than the mini bandstand for shooting the breeze, (and by ingeniously beating the breeze using the inside of your hat, like Smoddy above) and it’s in the spirit of a full shift of Buckie, fags n skins, whatever yer poison, that we welcome you one and a’ to our Seabraes o a blog.

I remember one time, must have been around 5am-ish, that a few of us including the late great Johnny MacKenzie stopped by there en route to or stotting from some perty. I had my board as per and somehow we got to the point where I was gonna ollie over John’s head as he lay on the path. Now wait, my memory is vague, maybe it was his cousin Johnny Cushnie? Hmm. Anyway, they were both there and the story’s the same: I ollied ower a John’s heid nae bather… but then, unbeknownst to the John lying on the ground, I proceeded to turn my board around and ollie BACK OVER the aforementioned heid, which was facing the other way. Well, I did make the ollie, but unbeknownst to me poor John was getting up at that exact moment, resulting in a skateboard truck to the eyebrow area and a nasty bleeding gash. All in good fun and no egos hurt or friendships bruised.

What number is it? 1 is the weakest, 32 most syrupy. Aye, right!

I thought the numbers on Buckie go up to 32, could be wrang though, as this interesting article by athousandflowers, says it’s 29…

We Went to Buckfast Abbey and Asked Them What the Numbers Are All About | A Thousand Flowers

So, I must have drank enough Buckie to sink the Armada, but it wasnae all aboot just getting pished. No, it was functional. A shift o the nectar, purple soup, God’s poison, call it what ye will, was a perfect companion for a good evening’s skateboarding, especially up yon Hawky (see CHO). One memorable occasion on the Christening of our new mini ramp saw the whole Hawky Crew dressed up in suits, armed wi Buckie and ready tae battle. I think it rained that night so maybe not so much skating got done, but a Buckie skate meant a fearless and painless one, and you did unbelievable tricks and skated like naebdy’s business! Usually, too, you were quite sober by the end of it coz o a’ the sweatin, ken?

Delboy in his safari suit; who’s got the photaes?

I’m teetotal now – fitted in enough o the stuff for a few lifetimes – heigh ho. Thinking back, we didn’t use to mix the bevvy and smoke wi the skating in the early days; we skated first then went mental at night. Not sure when the lines started to get blurred, but I do ken the only bones I ever broke were when skatebaording drunk! I don’t miss getting pished, but these days I could do with some kind o magic potion like the Buckie that makes slamming full body onto ramp or concrete not something that sends me hame greetin to the wife 🙂