Author: Kevin Wilkins

I have a confession. It’s been 30 years since my last confession. Since then, I’ve yelled at people who probably only deserved a smart-ass remark. I’ve also been a smart ass to people who deserved to be yelled at. I promise to fix that. Oh, and I yelled at my dog, too. A lot. And… Continue reading Timbre #40: I’m The Man

“How come no one told us?” I’ve heard shrilly put forward. Look … you can be brutal, you can be harsh, you can be a total dick. But don’t pretend you don’t know and please don’t ask things like this. Why? Because nobody shouldn’t have to tell us—not openly, anyway. But it’s clear that skateboarding… Continue reading Timbre #39: Custom Build

At the risk of sounding like Count Grumpula, Captain Seriouso, or a bossy, biased, boring bitch, I’m going to type a little bit about the state of the skateboard industry. Please forgive me. I’ve used this example before when the subject of blank boards, shop boards, team boards, branded boards, and pro boards comes up—which… Continue reading Timbre #38: Run, Run, Fast As You Can

Hi. It’s me. I’ve been sick and it’s got me concerned. Because in the process of adapting to the germs or infection or whatever it was, and taking legal drugs, and sweaty sleep, and bowls of salty soup with glorious titles like Chicken Noodle and Indian Spiciness, the thing I know as “me” might have… Continue reading Timbre #37: Illmatic

“I need that.” I find myself bleating every day in reference to about a half million things. And it’s nothing more than a harmless lie, really. At the very worst, a thinly-veiled expression of “want” as opposed to “need”—a self-destructive bark about skills or food or cars or … Wait. I think the UPS man… Continue reading Timbre #36: Can’t Guarantee

What do I know? Okay, for one, we’re ahead of the leaders. That I’m sure of. What else? Well, in the theme of this well-endowed opinion, I had planned on typing the best thing of the year. About a young man and his unwavering life of best-ever moments. His stories did not interest anyone, yet… Continue reading Timbre #34: Trust Exercise

What do you got? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And there are little tiny parts of us—parts that scream and burn and give us headaches and make our hair feel like we’ve been wearing a hat for too long—that really do believe it. “NOTIHNG!” they yell in twelve-story-tall letters that you can see from ten blocks away.… Continue reading Timbre #33: About Much Else

You are the worst. A lost cause. A smaller amount than absolutely nothing. You actually owe me some money for having to put up with the burden of your worthlessness. And we are all very proud. The shittiness you possess is something that cannot be faked. It’s so real that there can be no imitators,… Continue reading Timbre #31: Good Health

We interrupt the normal flow of things to bring you this interruption. Imbalance is skateboarding. And of course, vice versa is also true. I heard Tommy Guerrero paraphrase Bruce Lee recently. And I too will paraphrase. “Perfect balance,” I say he said Bruce said, “comes in motion.” This is also true. Moving through the equilibrium… Continue reading Timbre #30: Interlude

This was originally written for TransWorld Skateboarding on 9/12/2001. I think it ran the following month. I interviewed a ton of NYC skaters around that time, too, and within an issue or two after that, we ran an article with quotes and photos. It was a weird interval for everyone, not just skaters. No one… Continue reading Toner #9: Never Forget: Skateboarding Matters

I went bowling. It’s not all pins flying and spheres spinning and frames filling, as you might assume. Lots of it, on the level I bowl, is sitting in a fiberglass chair, looking around at what the rest of the bowlers are doing, and thinking about whatever. And beer. That’s it, really. Observing and thinking… Continue reading Timbre #28: Power Of Sneaky

“Yes,” the man thought. “The answer is probably yes. But then again …” He’d been doing this for weeks. A thought would pop into his head and it would seem so concrete, so true. But then he’d dwell on it, he’d give it some time, he’d mull it over. And eventually the thought became soft… Continue reading Timbre #27: Then Again

Do I type about this or not? I was in my office yesterday afternoon and got a call from Cheryl. “Owen got hit by a car and he’s dead. He got out the front door. He’s down on the corner.” I heard myself say, “What?” and before I knew it I was up the stairs,… Continue reading The Metre Reader #3: RIP Owen

More and more often—if you’re listening for it—you can hear people say these exact words: “I don’t really want to leave [Chicago, Tempe, Minneapolis, Portland, New Jersey, etc.].” Hearing this is not bad for your ears. Grant Taylor backside noseblunts where he hangs his hat—Atlanta, Georgia. Photo: Ryan Flynn My own hometown anti-exile, away from… Continue reading Timbre #26: Spread