Studies in Skid Culture #3

So I've been kinda sorta neglecting my blog lately. To my tight-knit cadre of devoted readers, I apologize. Other writing projects, a testy dial-up internet connection, and the new season of Canadian Idol have all conspired to derail my once-regular ranting schedule. That, and I've been busy catching up on the local culture in my hometown, an entertaining, oftentimes scintillating, yet time-consuming task.

Just in case you thought I was indulging in a bit of poetic license in my first entry on skid culture a couple months back, I have recently gathered much empirical evidence that the skid community is still indeed alive and well around these parts. For example, when I was walking out of Swiss Chalet last night after dinner, I witnessed a truckload of skids drive into the local Tim Horton's (conveniently located across the street from Swiss Chalet). True to form, the boys had a rusted-out Skidoo in the back of their pickup truck. In the middle of June. I kid you not. They were hollering unintelligbly but gleefully out the windows as they drove past, perhaps in anticipation of picking up a few limited-time-only strawberry tarts from Timmie's along with their double-doubles.

Sometimes this place is just too Canadian to be true. I have to say, it's great to be home.

Studies in Skid Culture #2

Re: The Skids in the Hall 23/02/2006

I am adding this post to my newly begun collection of Internet references to skid culture:

Fries with Gravy: Metal Skids Unite!

Note that G'N'R is key. More to come...

The Skids in the Hall

At my high school, one of the most well-defined, and most populous, demographic groups was the "skids." Thinking back, it is clear to me that calling someone a "skid" was a highly offensive thing to do. I don't really know where the phrase comes from, but it is pretty obvious that it must be in some way derived from "skid row" and thus laden with derogatory class connotations. But I don't remember the "skids" being defined entirely according to class. And if you were a skid, it wasn't really an insult to be called one; skids frequently referred to themselves as such. All this does not exonerate the wrongness of the term--if any skids happen to be reading this blog, please take this as an open apology for any injury our collective use of this term caused you. That said, the origins and definition of the term itself deserve further exploration.

Strangely, the meaning that "skid" took on in my high school's vernacular are not easily located in dictionaries or even websites devoted to Canadian slang. Evidently, "skid" is a narrowly regional term, but I believe that the individuals to whom this term refers are far more ubiquitous. The fictional characters that most accurately capture the skid persona are Wayne Campbell and Garth Algar--no coincidence I'm sure, as Mike Myers must have known a few skids growing up in Scarborough, Ontario. To my memory, identifying characteristics of skids include the following:

Music tastes: Heavy metal (eg. Warrant, Motley Crue, Metallica), occasionally country

Dress code-Guys: Ripped jeans, metal band/beer t-shirts under plaid flannel long-sleeve shirt, wallet chain, frayed baseball cap with beer/agricultural product logo, tattoos

Dress code-Chix: Skin tight jeans, tall boots, cleavage-baring tops, large hoop earrings, leather bomber jackets, tattoos

Hair-Guys: Mullet

Hair-Chix: Mullet or big and long (a la Pam Anderson)

Vehicles: Trucks, ski-doos (snowmobiles), or most commonly, truck carrying ski-doo in back

Beverages: Two-four

TV Programs: Pro wrestling, Baywatch, Cops

Leisure activities: Smoking, ski-dooing, field/pit parties, fornicating, fighting, vandalism

Celebrity mentors-Guys: McKenzie Brothers, Axl Rose

Celebrity mentors-Chix: Pamela Anderson, Lita Ford

What I want to know is, if there were/are individuals who more or less matched this profile at your high school, did/do they call themselves "skids"? If not, how are they designated? And if you yourself were a skid, did you wear the label with pride, or did you deeply resent it? The time has come for some serious inter/intra-skid dialogue, so crank some Ozzy, crack open some brews, pull up a seat by the bonfire and let it all out.