CURB CUTS
by RICHARD MUNGALL
Scroll down to see comments on individual podcast episodes.
Curb Cuts #1:
Chicken Nugget
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Curb Cuts #2:
What IF?
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Curb Cuts #3:
Architecture
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Curb Cuts #4:
Relationship Status
December 8, 2019
Zach Martinez
Like many, my formative childhood years were completely consumed by BMX. My best days were spent riding around with my friends while finding and exploring new spots. I found myself spending every waking moment thinking about tricks, lines, and what the next day on my bike would bring. Those thoughts still consume my head today.
I never had any real aspirations of going pro. Maybe for a little while, but it wasn’t what drove my riding. I rode for myself and tried making BMX completely my own— ultimately becoming a large part in making me who I am today. There are few pictures of me and even fewer clips. I was probably unknown to those who I wasn’t really close with because I felt like I didn’t have anything notable to share. Like myself, most of the people I rode with were shy, self-conscious, and didn’t venture outside of our friend group too often. With that being said, there was some real talent within the crew of guys I rode with.
As I got older, my search for direction and a career path led me to firefighting. I fell in love with it like I did with BMX. I found so many similarities in the two cultures: It was something I wanted to be really good at, and there was a constant physical and mental drive to be better and learn more. The camaraderie between my guys at the fire house felt so much like hanging out with my friends at a spot or the skatepark. While the two are actually so different, they’re similar in common goals.
Much like BMX, firefighting has its own community and culture. The sense of belonging and self worth I felt drove me like BMX did. So, I dove headfirst in to schooling and training. While this was happening, my friends were also growing up and out of BMX. These factors led to my bike being put on the back burner more often than I’d like to admit. The training to become a fire fighter was physically and mentally demanding and altogether exhausting. In a field where the job market is very competitive, I knew I needed to give the majority of my time and effort if I ever wanted a career.
Putting fourth so much effort to my work and not having anyone to ride with led me to an almost two year hiatus from riding my bike. It wasn’t until I reconnected with some other local riders that I found myself riding again. I even had unknowingly moved next door to the legendary BMX house, the Rat Trap— I would later on reside there for what I would still consider today to be one of the most fun years of my life.
So, I had started riding again. I was a little rusty getting back on my bike and had lost a couple of things, but I was driven to regain whatever I had lost. Unfortunately, I found that rekindling my passion for riding could potentially hurt my new career I worked so hard for. It’s no secret that BMX is hard on the body. Aches, pains, and injury are sometimes inevitable. This became apparent some years ago when a bad sprain left me on crutches and out of work for a period of time, putting my job in jeopardy. Injury can take away from ones performance on the job and potentially put others in danger. Not only to those we were set out to help, but to ourselves and our fellow firefighters.
While on the extreme end of things, the thought of someone getting hurt because I went down on a sprained ankle or bum shoulder because I fell on my bike is daunting and somewhat embarrassing. There were so many instances that left me repelling off the sides of buildings, crawling through tunnels, and hiking up flights of stairs carrying heavy equipment and people in some of the most unfavorable conditions— often hiding a brace within my boots or wincing with pain. I began to struggle to find a balance between my two passions that wasn’t “not getting hurt.”
I wasn’t pushing myself has hard on my bike out of fear or getting hurt or being too sore for work the next day. I felt timid and self-conscious when riding with others. I felt like a bummer to be around, or unwanted at times. While most of those thoughts may have been exaggerated in my head, I wasn’t having fun on my bike anymore and becoming very depressed. If I had some run of the mill job, the choice would be easy and my bike would always win. But I loved my job. Firefighting offered a unique escape from reality much like riding a bike. The fire house felt like more of a home than my own somedays.
It began to feel like one love was taking from another. I wasn’t pushing myself as hard as I wanted to on my bike, and I was beginning to resent the fire service for it. I began forcing sessions to try to prove to others that I was still relevant. Mung talked about taking what you want from something like BMX when you need it, and leaving it for something else when you don’t. Over the years I developed other loves and hobbies. I tried to embody this realizing that you can have fun on your bike and love for the culture on a lesser scale, and that it was okay to do that and allow yourself to take a step back.
I began looking for other ways to support and be a part of the scene. I started helping out at competitions and events and supporting smaller DIY operations. I began to find love again in riding my bike. I push myself when I feel most confident, and take it easy when I’m not feeling it. Some sessions are better than others. That’s why I try to put all my insecurities aside and just have fun on my bike again, and have pride in what I do for a living.
I’m developing a style again, riding when and how I want. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever truly find balance or if it even exists, or if this is just what growing up is. One thing I know for sure is that BMX is something that was meant to be made your own, and I’m trying to make it my own again.
Zach Martinez
Like many, my formative childhood years were completely consumed by BMX. My best days were spent riding around with my friends while finding and exploring new spots. I found myself spending every waking moment thinking about tricks, lines, and what the next day on my bike would bring. Those thoughts still consume my head today.
I never had any real aspirations of going pro. Maybe for a little while, but it wasn’t what drove my riding. I rode for myself and tried making BMX completely my own— ultimately becoming a large part in making me who I am today. There are few pictures of me and even fewer clips. I was probably unknown to those who I wasn’t really close with because I felt like I didn’t have anything notable to share. Like myself, most of the people I rode with were shy, self-conscious, and didn’t venture outside of our friend group too often. With that being said, there was some real talent within the crew of guys I rode with.
As I got older, my search for direction and a career path led me to firefighting. I fell in love with it like I did with BMX. I found so many similarities in the two cultures: It was something I wanted to be really good at, and there was a constant physical and mental drive to be better and learn more. The camaraderie between my guys at the fire house felt so much like hanging out with my friends at a spot or the skatepark. While the two are actually so different, they’re similar in common goals.
Much like BMX, firefighting has its own community and culture. The sense of belonging and self worth I felt drove me like BMX did. So, I dove headfirst in to schooling and training. While this was happening, my friends were also growing up and out of BMX. These factors led to my bike being put on the back burner more often than I’d like to admit. The training to become a fire fighter was physically and mentally demanding and altogether exhausting. In a field where the job market is very competitive, I knew I needed to give the majority of my time and effort if I ever wanted a career.
Putting fourth so much effort to my work and not having anyone to ride with led me to an almost two year hiatus from riding my bike. It wasn’t until I reconnected with some other local riders that I found myself riding again. I even had unknowingly moved next door to the legendary BMX house, the Rat Trap— I would later on reside there for what I would still consider today to be one of the most fun years of my life.
So, I had started riding again. I was a little rusty getting back on my bike and had lost a couple of things, but I was driven to regain whatever I had lost. Unfortunately, I found that rekindling my passion for riding could potentially hurt my new career I worked so hard for. It’s no secret that BMX is hard on the body. Aches, pains, and injury are sometimes inevitable. This became apparent some years ago when a bad sprain left me on crutches and out of work for a period of time, putting my job in jeopardy. Injury can take away from ones performance on the job and potentially put others in danger. Not only to those we were set out to help, but to ourselves and our fellow firefighters.
While on the extreme end of things, the thought of someone getting hurt because I went down on a sprained ankle or bum shoulder because I fell on my bike is daunting and somewhat embarrassing. There were so many instances that left me repelling off the sides of buildings, crawling through tunnels, and hiking up flights of stairs carrying heavy equipment and people in some of the most unfavorable conditions— often hiding a brace within my boots or wincing with pain. I began to struggle to find a balance between my two passions that wasn’t “not getting hurt.”
I wasn’t pushing myself has hard on my bike out of fear or getting hurt or being too sore for work the next day. I felt timid and self-conscious when riding with others. I felt like a bummer to be around, or unwanted at times. While most of those thoughts may have been exaggerated in my head, I wasn’t having fun on my bike anymore and becoming very depressed. If I had some run of the mill job, the choice would be easy and my bike would always win. But I loved my job. Firefighting offered a unique escape from reality much like riding a bike. The fire house felt like more of a home than my own somedays.
It began to feel like one love was taking from another. I wasn’t pushing myself as hard as I wanted to on my bike, and I was beginning to resent the fire service for it. I began forcing sessions to try to prove to others that I was still relevant. Mung talked about taking what you want from something like BMX when you need it, and leaving it for something else when you don’t. Over the years I developed other loves and hobbies. I tried to embody this realizing that you can have fun on your bike and love for the culture on a lesser scale, and that it was okay to do that and allow yourself to take a step back.
I began looking for other ways to support and be a part of the scene. I started helping out at competitions and events and supporting smaller DIY operations. I began to find love again in riding my bike. I push myself when I feel most confident, and take it easy when I’m not feeling it. Some sessions are better than others. That’s why I try to put all my insecurities aside and just have fun on my bike again, and have pride in what I do for a living.
I’m developing a style again, riding when and how I want. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever truly find balance or if it even exists, or if this is just what growing up is. One thing I know for sure is that BMX is something that was meant to be made your own, and I’m trying to make it my own again.
CURB CUTS #5:
Be Somebody
No comments yet.
CURB CUTS #6:
STORIES
No comments yet.
CURB CUTS #7:
Rough Spots
No comments yet.
CURB CUTS #8:
Freestyle Criticism
July 14, 2019
- Just listened to your latest output! Very stoked on it and I hope it doesn't fall on deaf ears. A question arose in my head as I listened though. I was considering the use of a strong critique in response to progression. Do you think if we push a criticism of our peers it would lead to a more homogeneous riding style and lead to less individualized modes of expression? I just think that could lead to personal scrutiny. I'm thinking of trends that are now acceptable (brakeless, pegless, pull up bars etc) because people threw their fingers up to the overly pedantic side of the culture. Also one of the fortunate side effects of corporate take over of communities is that the subculture grows stronger. Hence how I found and relate to your podcast!
Hope these conversations continue. Thanks guys!
- Cody
------------------
- Thanks for your poignant question, "Do you think if we push a criticism of our peers it would lead to a more homogeneous riding style and lead to less individualized modes of expression?"
I think my answer is both yes and no, or, it depends. I think that in reality, you are right that criticism often does function to limit riding into something more homogeneous. I'll go there in a moment. But first, I think that limits are good, at times. Identity needs to have bounds. For instance, freestyle bike riding isn't rollerblading, or trials riding, or BMX racing. And it also needs to have bounds within it, so that a culture can have coherence.
Before I take an example, I’ll start with a little philosophy. This process of cultural evolution seems to involve finding a balance between conservative and progressive forces. Robert M. Pirsig writes about this. Too much "dynamic quality" and the culture changes too quickly and loses itself, but too much "static quality" and it stagnates and fails to respond to the changing world. The discernment of what should, and should not be included in a culture, is a question of wisdom which is highly undeveloped in American culture. As a result, while these decisions are made collectively it is almost always unconsciously. At present, money and “likes” seem to be the only conscious component to cultural questions. This is what I’m trying to change.
I’ll start with an example about styles of bike riding. I think of this kind of street/flat hybrid riding that a few people are doing now. To be clear, I think people can and should do whatever they personally feel inspired to do. But from the perspective of culture, this form of riding is ultimately too expanded in my view. I’m more conservative about riding than they are. There are reasons why grinds on the handlebars with the bike upside down, or loosening the stem so the bars move or spin or something, that these things just aren't going to catch on. My own opinion is that this kind of riding is gimmicky, just doing something novel for the sake of doing something novel, playing with the hardware simply because it’s possible. But it also turns out really clunky, lacks flow, it's not actually very enjoyable to watch, and it's not accessible even to other bike riders. I could imagine many ultra technical things that would be possible to do with a bike, but wouldn't be interested in doing because it wouldn't feel or look good. So for me, it isn't just about what's possible but about what is beautiful, and not everything that is possible is beautiful. It's like how in Photoshop we can do a gazillion different things to an image but that doesn't mean we should do those things.
But again, we need to be careful to distinguish aesthetic criticism from criticism of the “person”. I can think their riding is boring or even whack and still fully be friends with them and respect their willingness to do something outside of the box. Either way, it’s worth talking about because that is how a culture discovers itself and grows. Further, this kind of riding isn’t actively hurting anyone or doing damage to the overall culture. In contrast, when someone’s actions have negative consequences for others, then my criticism becomes different.
My take on corporate sponsorship goes beyond aesthetic considerations (and it would be too easy to point out the ugliness in that department anyway). This is where I would want to be more actively critical with the goal of inhibiting or stopping certain behaviors in general, because it isn't just about an individual rider's choices but about an overall cultural direction that negatively impacts many people. This would include the spectacle of energy drinks, the representation to young minds of a hyper masculine narrative monoculture, the glorification of injuries, the message that the way to be liked is to be famous on social media or TV, etc. These story lines can be as toxic to a bike rider’s experience as the drinks they sell are toxic to kids (in this case, sugary drinks disproportionately affect poor people of color leading to lifelong illnesses - how the fuck is this ok to support?!?) It's a matter of ethics and responsibility, just like selling tobacco or anything else to kids. This impacts other people and that matters. And I think we need to get that junk out of BMX to maintain an integrity to the heart and soul of our identity on every level, too. I wish the only thing we had to actively debate were grass landings. And yet, it seems that grass landings are all we seem to be capable of talking about as a culture.
Briefly, on the level of tricks, I do think you are right that criticism and social norms create limits. I know that one of my favorite tricks, the hang 5, seems to have lost favor in the shadow of the apparently cooler nose manual. And it’s clear that tricks seem to go in and out of style, with each new generation seemingly unaware that what they are doing was already done on VHS in the 90s. But that’s a whole other thing about history!
Taking it one step further, I think much of the mainstream culture today is, in effect, criticism by omission. Silence, and silencing, are the harshest form of criticism available. For instance, little of what I am most psyched on in riding appears on OurBMX. I'd say maybe one in 20, or one in 50 videos/posts are worth watching/reading - and maybe one in 500 that I actually take something away from that feels lastingly meaningful. Their critical message here is this: “The wild and beautiful diversity of the freestyle experience isn’t important. What is important is doing things that corporate sponsors like.” Messages matter SO much but so many people in positions of power act as if they don’t. Did you see the latest OurBMX Nigel post about that ridiculous bike wrap? Ugh, it's just embarrassing. This is a case where it is both aesthetically whack and sending out majorly toxic messages at the same time. The worst of both worlds. The integrity of our culture going forward rests on our ability to talk about this kind of thing.
So in some ways I'm quite conservative. I think we should conserve all elements of BMX that focus us on the experiences themselves, relationships, travel, inner growth, trick progression, new forms of video, photography or writing - all the core elements that have sustained core riders for decades - and that we should be critical of or actively reject all elements that take us away from that core which is, sadly, more and more of what passes for BMX today. At the same time, I think there is incredible room for a vast diversity of styles within that anti-corporate, “conservative” culture that I prefer. If we had more integrity to our core values I think it would make room for a lot more novelty. For instance, I think of the olympics, or any major sponsored contest, and not only is my own riding style left out (even at my peak 7 years or so back), but so is that of Steven Hamilton, Mike Hoder, Little Jon, Edwin, Lino, or anyone else that I've been the most stoked on over the years. Today the most homogenizing force is our baffling, voluntary participation in the corporate spectacle.
We need to be critical - and we need to be critical of what we are being critical of and how we are doing it! If our criticisms stay tethered to the heart, soul, and experience of freestyle, I think we’ll do ok, and certainly do a lot better than giving away our power by saying nothing at all.
- Mung
- Just listened to your latest output! Very stoked on it and I hope it doesn't fall on deaf ears. A question arose in my head as I listened though. I was considering the use of a strong critique in response to progression. Do you think if we push a criticism of our peers it would lead to a more homogeneous riding style and lead to less individualized modes of expression? I just think that could lead to personal scrutiny. I'm thinking of trends that are now acceptable (brakeless, pegless, pull up bars etc) because people threw their fingers up to the overly pedantic side of the culture. Also one of the fortunate side effects of corporate take over of communities is that the subculture grows stronger. Hence how I found and relate to your podcast!
Hope these conversations continue. Thanks guys!
- Cody
------------------
- Thanks for your poignant question, "Do you think if we push a criticism of our peers it would lead to a more homogeneous riding style and lead to less individualized modes of expression?"
I think my answer is both yes and no, or, it depends. I think that in reality, you are right that criticism often does function to limit riding into something more homogeneous. I'll go there in a moment. But first, I think that limits are good, at times. Identity needs to have bounds. For instance, freestyle bike riding isn't rollerblading, or trials riding, or BMX racing. And it also needs to have bounds within it, so that a culture can have coherence.
Before I take an example, I’ll start with a little philosophy. This process of cultural evolution seems to involve finding a balance between conservative and progressive forces. Robert M. Pirsig writes about this. Too much "dynamic quality" and the culture changes too quickly and loses itself, but too much "static quality" and it stagnates and fails to respond to the changing world. The discernment of what should, and should not be included in a culture, is a question of wisdom which is highly undeveloped in American culture. As a result, while these decisions are made collectively it is almost always unconsciously. At present, money and “likes” seem to be the only conscious component to cultural questions. This is what I’m trying to change.
I’ll start with an example about styles of bike riding. I think of this kind of street/flat hybrid riding that a few people are doing now. To be clear, I think people can and should do whatever they personally feel inspired to do. But from the perspective of culture, this form of riding is ultimately too expanded in my view. I’m more conservative about riding than they are. There are reasons why grinds on the handlebars with the bike upside down, or loosening the stem so the bars move or spin or something, that these things just aren't going to catch on. My own opinion is that this kind of riding is gimmicky, just doing something novel for the sake of doing something novel, playing with the hardware simply because it’s possible. But it also turns out really clunky, lacks flow, it's not actually very enjoyable to watch, and it's not accessible even to other bike riders. I could imagine many ultra technical things that would be possible to do with a bike, but wouldn't be interested in doing because it wouldn't feel or look good. So for me, it isn't just about what's possible but about what is beautiful, and not everything that is possible is beautiful. It's like how in Photoshop we can do a gazillion different things to an image but that doesn't mean we should do those things.
But again, we need to be careful to distinguish aesthetic criticism from criticism of the “person”. I can think their riding is boring or even whack and still fully be friends with them and respect their willingness to do something outside of the box. Either way, it’s worth talking about because that is how a culture discovers itself and grows. Further, this kind of riding isn’t actively hurting anyone or doing damage to the overall culture. In contrast, when someone’s actions have negative consequences for others, then my criticism becomes different.
My take on corporate sponsorship goes beyond aesthetic considerations (and it would be too easy to point out the ugliness in that department anyway). This is where I would want to be more actively critical with the goal of inhibiting or stopping certain behaviors in general, because it isn't just about an individual rider's choices but about an overall cultural direction that negatively impacts many people. This would include the spectacle of energy drinks, the representation to young minds of a hyper masculine narrative monoculture, the glorification of injuries, the message that the way to be liked is to be famous on social media or TV, etc. These story lines can be as toxic to a bike rider’s experience as the drinks they sell are toxic to kids (in this case, sugary drinks disproportionately affect poor people of color leading to lifelong illnesses - how the fuck is this ok to support?!?) It's a matter of ethics and responsibility, just like selling tobacco or anything else to kids. This impacts other people and that matters. And I think we need to get that junk out of BMX to maintain an integrity to the heart and soul of our identity on every level, too. I wish the only thing we had to actively debate were grass landings. And yet, it seems that grass landings are all we seem to be capable of talking about as a culture.
Briefly, on the level of tricks, I do think you are right that criticism and social norms create limits. I know that one of my favorite tricks, the hang 5, seems to have lost favor in the shadow of the apparently cooler nose manual. And it’s clear that tricks seem to go in and out of style, with each new generation seemingly unaware that what they are doing was already done on VHS in the 90s. But that’s a whole other thing about history!
Taking it one step further, I think much of the mainstream culture today is, in effect, criticism by omission. Silence, and silencing, are the harshest form of criticism available. For instance, little of what I am most psyched on in riding appears on OurBMX. I'd say maybe one in 20, or one in 50 videos/posts are worth watching/reading - and maybe one in 500 that I actually take something away from that feels lastingly meaningful. Their critical message here is this: “The wild and beautiful diversity of the freestyle experience isn’t important. What is important is doing things that corporate sponsors like.” Messages matter SO much but so many people in positions of power act as if they don’t. Did you see the latest OurBMX Nigel post about that ridiculous bike wrap? Ugh, it's just embarrassing. This is a case where it is both aesthetically whack and sending out majorly toxic messages at the same time. The worst of both worlds. The integrity of our culture going forward rests on our ability to talk about this kind of thing.
So in some ways I'm quite conservative. I think we should conserve all elements of BMX that focus us on the experiences themselves, relationships, travel, inner growth, trick progression, new forms of video, photography or writing - all the core elements that have sustained core riders for decades - and that we should be critical of or actively reject all elements that take us away from that core which is, sadly, more and more of what passes for BMX today. At the same time, I think there is incredible room for a vast diversity of styles within that anti-corporate, “conservative” culture that I prefer. If we had more integrity to our core values I think it would make room for a lot more novelty. For instance, I think of the olympics, or any major sponsored contest, and not only is my own riding style left out (even at my peak 7 years or so back), but so is that of Steven Hamilton, Mike Hoder, Little Jon, Edwin, Lino, or anyone else that I've been the most stoked on over the years. Today the most homogenizing force is our baffling, voluntary participation in the corporate spectacle.
We need to be critical - and we need to be critical of what we are being critical of and how we are doing it! If our criticisms stay tethered to the heart, soul, and experience of freestyle, I think we’ll do ok, and certainly do a lot better than giving away our power by saying nothing at all.
- Mung
CURB CUTS #9:
Gift Economy
No comments yet.
CURB CUTS #10:
Mental Frameworks
No comments yet.