Day Thirteen
We’ve got our work cut out for us on our last day here. It’s cold again and the sun is nowhere to be seen. Gordo got to work on the last eight sheets of the second layer and Grover and I started laying the 8k worth of Skatelite on the flat. Gordo had us use an old standby method from the days of masonite. We were sticking a penny in between the plys so they wouldn’t buckle as they expanded in warmer weather. Grover doubted the usefulness of this practice but we did it anyway. As we got started on the second layer Gordo made us take out the three sheets that we had done and made us redo it with exactly the same results. The plan was to secure the Skatelite on the outsides in one foot increments and put two screws in the middle. With the Skatelite in place, Gordo could go back and finish after we leave. Skatelite is great to work with. It’s essentially a slab of plastic. You have to pre-drill and countersink the screws so they don’t pull through to the ply underneath. This is time consuming but if you have a guy following the countersinker you can screw down the plys as fast as they can be drilled. We were going along at a pretty good pace, except that Grover was goofing around and broke two of the countersinking drill bits within 15 minutes or so. He was able to clandestinely replace one while the other still worked. This guy name Brian stopped by, and he turned out to be Brian or Bryan Pennington, or however it’s spelled. He started raging hard on the vert ramp, oh wait. No he didn’t, because it was January and we were outside in Utah in the snow. He had two cool dogs. Most dogs are cool. Like most intelligent and fun-loving creatures, dogs were attracted to our ramp. Later on, a one-eyed dog came snooping around. On closer inspection, he just had one white eye like a lot of those huskie-type dogs. I miss my dog.
As time progressed, Gordo was beginning to get frustrated since he was having a hard time with the last of the second ply. It was on the high part of the ramp and we would frequently have to help him because it’s difficult to handle when you have nothing to gain leverage with. The frequency of Gordo’s outbursts was increasing as he became more and more aware that Grover and I were leaving tomorrow and he’d be stuck with whatever we didn’t get finished. The sun poked it’s head out briefly and then disappeared. The penny method was taking too much time. Gordo told us to blow off the pennies as well as some of the screws. It was getting colder and we were breaking bit tips left and right. Gordo made a trip to the store for more bit tips. He was pissed, but not as pissed as he was about a half an hour later when he had to go back for another countersink bit. The word “livid” comes to mind.
When Gordo got back we were finally able to work as a team on the same project. Daylight was waning and suddenly Gordo had a fire lit beneath him. We were clipping along at a good pace. A lot of that was due to the fact that we were now only using screws every two feet with none on the inside. We got halfway up the transitions when we pretty much ran out of light. Gordo became maniacal and brought out the lights. We had the top 16 pieces left to ply. The top row went down in haste with four screws a piece. Brent the promoter stopped by and got super hung up on the fact that the plys didn’t line up exactly even on the edge of the ramp. It was dark and cold and I was standing on top of the ramp. I lept down to crack him over the head with a 2×4, but Grover quickly stepped in with a tale of trim, which Brent swallowed, but then Gordo contradicted and opened up a ten minute can of worms. We were down to four screws a sheet, and the last ply was a festival of subzero circular saw, night vision. We were desperately trying to finish the last ply but Gordo kept getting calls from his wife asking why he wasn’t home yet.
Ha ha! What a relief to know that our work was done. We cleaned up and tried to get out there. Actually, we tried to talk Gordo into taking us to the Boneless factory so we could load up on free pads but he wouldn’t flow. It had been kind of a running joke for the last week. We just liked hearing him come up with different excuses instead of just telling us no. He was still in trouble with the wife, so we went to grab some Chinese takeout. I had told Gordo and his wife that Grover and I would spring for dinner. Unfortunately, I had failed to discuss this with Grover. Gordo was thanking Grover in advance and Grover kept insisting that he wasn’t paying for Gordo’s meal. To add insult to injury, we had both forgotten our wallets and Gordo had to pay for everything after all. We reimbursed him though, I swear. At the restaurant, Gordo was so flustered that I had to translate for him so they could get his order correct. While we were waiting for our grub, Grover and I stashed a couple of handfuls of drywall screws under the carpet in front of the register and ogled the waitress while a really uptight and possibly inbred family tried to ignore us as we interacted with their son. The kid wasn’t allowed to eat gum from the gumball machines, but mom and dad were allowed to be very rude. If there is any city in the U.S. where punk rock can still have the same kind of impact that it used to, Salt Lake City is it. The town is run by Mormans who claim there is no discrimination, but Gordo has been on multiple job interviews where they have either asked him if he was part of the “family” or what ward he was in. A “ward” in Chicago is what political district you live in. In Salt Lake City it refers to which Church district, and in way it’s almost the same, like the diocese in the Catholic church, only if the Catholic church ran everything in town. Gangsters. SLC punks where are you?
Next Day: Robot dogs.
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