Friday, March 04, 2005

Blogger wants your money part 4

Finally, after being vaccinated (my arm still hurts, but as it hasn't swollen up to six times its size, I figure nothing terrible is happening), and feeling terrible (the migraine! the migraine!), and being so lacking in motivation that I watched the Jerry Springer Show... after all that, it's here, the blogpost no-one's been talking about, the final part of my fictional reminisces about weird modes of transport.

There is a difference here, as I am not about to pretend that I have ever rollerskated. I can't rollerskate, skateboard, snakeboard, or do rollerblading. There is something about myself and wearing wheels on my feet that just doesn't hang together. I also weigh 190 pounds, and that's a lot of body mass to send plummeting to the sidewalk. Oh, and I am 32 now, too, and married. I think, just as my dreams of becoming an international sports star are behind me, that any thoughts of skating, too, have been consigned to history. Even thoughts of pretending I have rollerskated make me feel queasy.

Not that I ever really wanted to rollerskate, despite watching those brilliant roller disco sequences on Buck Rogers in the 25th Century.


There he is (never knew he was Irish - This picture will be trotted out again for St Patrick's Day, no doubt).

There is another reason I can never get into rollerskating, and that is because there is just something less than manly about it, in my eyes. Perhaps I've seen too many clips of men with moustaches, wearing tight shorts, rollerskating backwards in Central Park. I don't know where this gay dream of frictionless surfaces may come from (!) but a quick spot of research has unearthed some interesting subcultural stuff - events such as the Slide for Pride games, and super-specific gay performances, such as Greg Wittrock's Whorita, which is described as...

"Cross-dressing show program in the gay drag tradition, utilizing a mask and a wig to Donna Summer's "Love to Love You." Wittrock delighted audiences with this number at the gay-oriented Skates of Pride in Manhattan in 1997, and shocked them at the mainstream American Open in Chicago in 1998."

I also unearthed this brilliant photograph. Now, I am no expert on these matters, so anyone who can explain the cultural references and life choices that lead to a man in drag, on ice skates, holding a little stiff chap above his head, is welcome to get in touch.


With this deeply resonant image, Extreme Unction hereby concludes its series on weird forms of transport.

3 Comments:

Blogger anan said...

The shaving!
Ooh! The shaving!

And what is with those little plastic human simulated skate booties?
Unless they happen to have been 'borrowed' from some hapless ex-skater?
Come to think of it, the other half of that au deux looks a bit wooden. Or stiff.
Where do you come up with this stuff???

2:32 AM  
Blogger KarbonKountyMoos said...

Thank you! Now I have to wipe the tears from my eyes....

3:13 PM  
Anonymous wittrock said...

Greg Wittrock here for some explaining! It's all a mystery to me too -- Something about the ice and it's flow and feminity? I think I know that stiff little chap teetering on the fist of the large bow-legged frauline -- They're doing it 'cause it's an old vaudeville circus act. I don't think their hearts are really into it though-- it's mostly for money and laughs. My work on the other hand is all about my relationship to sexuality. Ice can be very sexy, but that's not what you see on t.v. is it. Where's the maturity? Where's the PG or R rating in ice? Hell, where's the X? Where's the visceral theater that ice can create? All those skaters, so well trained and told exactly what to do and how to do it -- So worried about winning and spinning in the air more times than the other person? It's boredom and excitement that fuel my rage of theater. To hell with triples and quads. I'd rather make someone else's mind spin! It takes balls to go against the goverment of traditional ice and make something personal that will be dangerous to the status quo.

12:07 AM  

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