More Ketchup

•August 20, 2017 • Leave a Comment


When do we stop doing things?

When we’re dead? Bored? Tired… like when do we give up on the things we love to do? Do we stop loving doing them?

I’m refusing to stop doing the things that I love.. forever. But, when I look at that picture above, the screen grab took of me finishing concrete; one of my ultimate ‘loves’ I look like a mad man… and I believe I look this way often. Me looks a little psycho…pain riddled, sweaty, fat, dirty, angry. I love concrete.

Skate boarding trips have changed as well. Now I take a van load of children; my son and his friends instead of a van load of derelicts. The back of the van still sounds about the same: laughter and a mix of food fight and wrestling… then silence then repeat. Nobody wears seat belts, they’re too busy climbing on top of one another and jumping around. I try to reprimand but suddenly they’re all deaf. I continue driving somewhere while in another world…hopefully not making my mad man face pictured above.

A standard skate trip without children? All I need is a 12 pack of cheap beer and a box of cheezits. But when kids are involved you gotta remember to bring ketchup and shit.

And I still love my journals. Journals are magic. Mine used to be more public then things were a little sad, like a sun dial motto… a little too true for m’sharing. I think I made that face above all day and during sleep for a while.

In the past years therapy became a religion and I was able to sort out my questions and work on answers without worrying about labels. Shane swears those bad times took years off of my life and.. I’m OK with that.. what’ll it be? I’ll take a little off the top.


Ode to Ted

•January 13, 2017 • Leave a Comment



Family jam moment on the house piano at the Arment’s last night was a real hit. This made me miss Ted more than anything has.. this moment would have made him bellow with praise; his girls working together making music, laughing and sounding angelic. Jesus I would have loved to hear his description of this performance. Ted was the engineer who described nearly all things in life with engineering terms… the one that comes to mind was him frustrated with his neighbor’s hen attacking one of his chickens.. “that mother fucker is disassembling my rooster”.

Miss you Ted. This is only one of many simple moments that I wish you could have seen in person and described for us with your amazing honesty.

And yes.. in case you’re wondering I have audio of the girls singing.. no you can’t hear it. I’m holding onto it for something special.



Never mind, I’ll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
Don’t forget me, I beg
I’ll remember you said,
“Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead”

You know how the time flies
Only yesterday was the time of our lives
We were born and raised
In a summer haze
Bound by the surprise of our glory days


Nothing compares
No worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes
They are memories made.
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

Never mind, I’ll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you
Don’t forget me, I beg
I’ll remember you said,
“Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead”.


Buick. Boy Growth. Friend’s Dad’s Funeral

•April 9, 2016 • Leave a Comment

That Buick of mine was a hot ride. Though there was only a few of us who thought so. We kept it clean and always had somewhere to go.


We watch the time pass so fast it hurts. Kids without T-shirts. Moms in a bleached stained skirt. It’s a whirl wind we’re living.



Yesterday: two years ago

In the rear window the dads were dying.

It all started yesterday at Jon Morrow senior’s funeral- or celebration of life as they now call them. Brothers recited memories and cried like babies again, but momma’s been gone for years. Tears, strength, faith in heaven and respect for death filled the room like a gas station apothecary; everything anyone could need was there for the spiritual taking. The lobby hosted a two fold billboard with pictures of the deceased and his loved ones loving life. Stern smiles and faded history.


There was a lot of talk about life yesterday. And yes, good talk about life always includes that of death, and afterlife and…holy shit there is a fly buzzing around my truck right now that I want to kill so fucking bad, that it’s almost made me lose my train of thought. …runaway train.


Then the conversation last night at my parent’s house drifted quickly from me stealing my dad’s Lance tuck in my teens to everyone talking about heaven: the final resting place and what it’s really like. I admit: it made me feel uncomfortable. –Not because I have a problem with the thought of after life or death or any of that…It was just the first time I heard my mother talk about her vision of arriving in heaven… and hell no I’m not going to share what it is with you; no offense but you’re just a reader- I’m sharing my thoughts and feelings with you… not my mother’s. I found a proper time to leave and did so; saying good byes to a room full of loved ones; who; thank god are still alive and present in my life, let me never take for granted those that surround me physically on a daily basis whom I some day will inevitably miss. That line just typed itself and sorry but there is no going back on it.


The window before us, though maybe dirty, open, shut or blinded, we can still see through. Even if the panes were painted black we could break them out and get a vision… and yes, even the blind have the visions that I speak of; a way of looking at things, a sense of what is here and what the days taste like we are in control of; at least to a point this physical view. It’s not a matter of fate, it’s a matter of the decisions we have made as humans, up and out of bed, shoes on or where to go, or at the least: what to think about.


It was a good night’s sleep and today I still noticed everything a little bit differently: the steeples poked out of the autumn peaks invitingly but I did not stop. We were on a mission of our own, my son and his pal ate Margaret’s pancakes and went off on a Sunday morning road trip. The truck was full of skateboards, good will and instinct. We stopped at roadside ditches and stole some lines. We climbed campground sculptures and ignored Colin’s fever. Forever let me live life like this, making moods and time to miss.



I think I need a Pill

•April 8, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Overweight mothers led a stampede; pushing carts full of bullshit for their brats. It’s nonstop in this lot. I try to never come here, every time swearing this is the last. Is this the first? Hot damn I need springtime purchases. I’m sweating. I’m angry. No discount card, see I like my Chinese bullshit over priced and easy. Look at me pleasing! Where are all these mom’s going? Where’s the dad at? -Somewhere on the clock to pay for that slobber rat. Holy shit I’m doing it again… No time to kill, I think I need a pill.


FullSizeRender (12)

Arment Enters: World of Concrete

•January 31, 2016 • Leave a Comment



World of Concrete 2016


Flight Delayed


9:55 am Philadelphia International Airport


Generalization #1:


I find all humans to be annoying.


The minute the flight was announced delayed due to a repair that needed taken care of on our ship, people started to scramble at light speed, rushing to see if there was another flight available. Direct flight?! Something sooner!? My plans!


I’m pretty sure the couple across from me is on a blind date and about to cross the country together. The awkwardness is off of the charts. He’s acting like they’ve been together their whole life but I’m certain this is the first time they’ve met. I find the sight of her toes (peeking suspiciously at me from under her big leather sandals) disturbing and the only reason I keep looking at them is in hopes of seeing them leave…forever. I’m not making fun of his luggage, but… he’s currently having a hard time jamming his jacket into his bright orange Kmart luggage set. I’m waiting for a zipper to snap and his rage ruin the date. In this case, I’m almost rooting for his luggage to not break and disassemble the romance about to build.


How are there always individuals in airport terminals with no belongings? Like, Nothing. No phone, no bag, no purse… they’re just lurking around waiting to go somewhere in a T-shirt. It’s a blank T-shirt with no hints of where they are going or where they came from… Just finishing up a stinky burrito and wiping hands on baggy pants, ready to go. No, not even a bottle of water- the seemingly most needed necessity of any human on earth. Never go anywhere without a bottle of water. To quote George Carlin “…When did everyone become so thirsty?”


There is one human couple here who does not annoy me. They’ve been cuddled together on a bench sleeping since I got here. They haven’t a care in the world. Flight? What flight? Who gives a shit. Now we just have more time to sit here in a make believe womb, waiting to be born as one.


They just made an announcement about the flight but I couldn’t hear a word. “Cripple Creek” is blaring from every speaker in this gate waiting room; this song baring more meaning that flight schedule announcements.


I’ve been in the airport now for nearly 6 hours. My flight boards in 42 minutes…hopefully.

Green Truck Kaput.

•August 22, 2015 • 1 Comment


When I was a kid I liked to do a lot of dumb shit….and occasionally I still do.

The other week at RMS we were victims of some minor vandalism; broken windshield, shitter knocked over, random work site materials strewn about…and then the following weekend I arrived to this: my green truck set on fire over the weekend. -This is not kids doing dumb shit… it’s a little beyond.

I’d been to hell and back in that truck…it was a good truck; did burnouts, always started, took a beating, and occasionally hauled my band’s gear around. But now it’s toasted. What to do?

My workmate Eric rose his chin with a calm, deep breath and says “I say we bury the fucker, right there”… it’s still an option, I guess… ‘since metal prices are really down right now it would cost more to tow it than what I will get for it in scrap.


I know what you’re thinking, because I thought the same thing: “hey, it’s not so bad…’couple of belts and hoses…headlamps…radiator…..couple coats of paint and we’re back in the game’….but no. there’s molten metal on the charred grass below and it basically needs a whole new interior too….


I’m not really materialistic but damn, I had a cool pair of sunglasses in the cab.

A week later, the job site still smells like burned F250. I go back and forth, one moment laughing about it and the next moment getting really pissed off about it… but don’t worry people, you’re still going to get what I’m calling “the best skatepark in Pennsylvania”

Remember: it’s not about falling, it’s about getting back up… and if you try hard enough, you’re more prone to failing… and good karma’s better than bad karma… and blah blah blah.

Have a great weekend everybody!

Luv ya!


Tendai’s Goofy Footed

•July 7, 2015 • 1 Comment

tand board

Gosh… that shirt puts 10 pounds on me…. actually I just look fatter when I’m proud and puffing out my chest… and that’s what is going on in this shot.

Arment Concrete LLC started the 10,000 sq ft addition to the Reid Menzer Memorial Skate Park today in York. Very exciting. Even more exciting is the fact that I gave my trustworthy helper Tendai Gochera his first skate board. He’s helped on several skate park projects and ends up leaving them with a sigh of disappointment and the phrase “…I just wish I could skate”.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

If this kid wants to learn how to skate at age 34 I’m not going to stop him, I’m going to help him. “Here’s a board, Kid”. It’s a classic yet modern design: Chad Kramer pro model on Derelict Hotel wood via the Yuengling Lager graphic. I put Independent trucks on it and some decent urethane.

Tendai nearly cried when I gave it to him this morning. “MY FIRST BOARD!” he exclaimed and hugged me profusely.

At lunch break we all rode around the existing park, Tendai’s first time on a board he managed to roll down a few embankments to his own; and everyone else’s pure delight. I could hear him scream in excitement as he rolled freely; wood under him cruising over concrete. The locals called out advice on foot positioning and before long I called him back to work before he breaks his neck!

Welcome to the crew, dewd.