360 Flip. Photo: Deville

Blunt. Photo: Deville

Backside 180. Photo: Deville

Nollie into bank. Photo: Deville

Kickfip. Photo: Deville

Josh Hawkins

Words By Kendall Klopfenstein.
Photos By De Ville Nunes

Josh Hawkins is a talented skateboarder. What kind of questions do you ask a semi-professional skateboarder? Do you ask the same questions you might find on a teenybopper internet bulletin board? Or do you ask profound questions that the reader might not understand, or worse yet, that the skater wouldn’t know how to answer? There really is an art to putting your finger on the proverbial pulse of a skateboarder.
I was at my local neighborhood watering hole, doodling on bar napkins, tossing around ideas regarding Josh Hawkins. I wasn’t talking to anyone else, just glimpsing occasionally at Sports Center, and watching the only hot chick through the mirror behind the bar. I had my third or fourth tall pint of Pabst Blue Ribbon in my left hand and a burning Camel Filter in my right hand. I have a quirk that if I’m settled in somewhere, there can’t be anything in my pockets. If I’m skating, my wallet, keys, cell-phone, smokes, lighter, all come out of my pockets and are put in a small pile with everyone else’s shit. Ditto goes for the bar. All that shit goes on the bar in my constant view. If I need money, I don’t have to dig into my back pocket, the wallet is already out. If my phone rings, I don’t have to fumble through tight front jean pockets to find out that someone I don’t want to talk to is calling. Instead, I simply look down and check the caller identification feature found on the top of my phone. Basically, I hate digging through my pants when I’m sitting down. Maybe Josh carries a chain wallet, or possibly even a man purse. Perhaps the skateboard world is dying to know. My thoughts then shifted from the pile of shit that came out of my pockets to my beer and cigarette. I thought about the profound metaphor between the two.
The yin and the yang, the sun and the moon popped into my head. Man and Woman, or for those with an inclination for the graphic, the penis and the vagina. Trinidad and Tobago. Penn and Teller. You can insert your own pair-cliché here.
Beer and a smoke are my life’s ham and cheese. Many of my greatest decisions are made with both of these present. The greatest conversations I’ve ever had always involve smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. Always. Most commonly Camel filters in a box and a Pabst Blue Ribbon, just so you know if said companies are interested in sponsoring journalists. The worse times in my life are reflected by chain-smoking (for my nerves) and heavy drinking (for my memory).
Back to the metaphor that hit me while I was sitting on my barstool, it dawned on me that men are cigarettes and women are beer. Cigarettes only last five minutes. Beer takes longer and on rare occasion, I ignore the last few drops from the bottom. Be it bottle or can, a beer is shapely like a woman, whereas a cigarette is definitely phallic.
Cigarettes come in a box. Read that again. Beer shows up in a really big package, be it keg or forty-ounce, or with five or eleven of its friends. Women like to talk. Alcohol loosens lips. You can’t really talk when you’re inhaling a cigarette... I’ve tried. Alcohol, just like women, drives me to madness; cigarettes keep me rational. Cigarettes always smell bad, but alcohol smells worse in the morning.

That’s all I could read on the bar napkin scribbles. Yeah, some didn’t make sense to you. Yeah, they weren’t really that great. Anyway, I wanted to ask Josh Hawkins what he thought of my brilliant ideas regarding the amazing duality of nicotine and alcohol and them representing the man and woman? What does a hungry young talent think of torturing his lungs and liver? I give you the Josh Hawkins interview.

Who do you skate for?
Bones Wheels. Powell. Tensor Trucks. Circa. Insight Clothing. Pulse Boardshop. Ogio.

Do you ever smoke cigs?
Nope.

Do you ever drink?
Once in a while.

Do you ever drink and smoke at the same time?
Never.

What are your vices?
Ah I don’t know. I really don’t have any I have a lot of hobbies but nothing that could be considered a vice. I like fishing and working on my car. It’s a Honda Civic. I like art, painting and drawing.

That’s not a vice really. A vice is something negatives something self-destructive. Like gambling.
I don’t think that I have any vices then.

What about girls? Are they a vice for you?
No I’ve had a girlfriend for like five years.

As an epiphany of sorts, it was pretty much a bail on the interview. We talked for a minute or two about how his new 411 parts were going to revolutionize the modern skate worldwide community (my words, Josh is a humble dude). I found out that he’s not yet old enough to drink legally in the United States. He lives in Arizona and has had a very uneventful life so far. When I asked him if he had any defining event from his childhood that defined who he is he. He gave me nothing. No strife, no vices, a happy family life. His family loves him and he loves his family. There is nothing sketchy about Josh Hawkins. It seems Josh is a perfect American who happens to be amazingly talented on a skateboard. Perhaps everyone is not a degenerate loser like me. Perhaps the future is brighter than I think.