…tail-pads at ten bucks a shot!
Yesterday, I mighta mentioned that I’d thrown in to be a
part-owner of a devil-themed traction and wax company.
It ain’t gonna make me rich, so far it’s made me a little
poorer, but why not take a swing when a ball flies atcha?
Read about that here.
Now all the talking about deck grips got me thinking about the
best in the biz, the original, the beautiful,
Astrodeck. It may surprise you, surprised me,
that the world champion John John Florence and world number five
Kolohe Andino, who have signature Astrodeck tail-pads,
actually…pay… for their grips. Ten bucks a hit. It ain’t
retail, sure, but fuck.
When Necro tried to lure Noa Deane into riding for ’em, offering
a piece of the company, he said he didn’t want anything but
Astrodeck.
So few hours ago I called Astrodeck’s San Clemente,
California, bureau to talk about the ringing endorsement of
the Champ, Florence, ballet dancer Noa and the sorta contender,
Andino.
Who answers the phone? Ms Dibi Fletcher herself, writer,
artist, and the matriarch of the famous surf family that includes
Herbie the tow-pioneer/artist/traction pioneer, Christian, Nathan,
and skate-star Greyson, Christian’s kid, Dibi’s
grandkid.
Well, hello, Dibi!
Turns out Dibi, who is almost seventy years old, opens the doors
in the morning, answers the phones, works the warehouse, ships
the pads, does it all. Ain’t nobody else there but the still
cute-as-a-button Dibi.
“Getting it in, honey,” she says, with a fabulous hoot. “I
don’t want people’s dysfunctional kids. I’ve already got my own. No
one wants to work. You train someone and then they move onto the
next thing. What’s in it for me to spend the time and train
somebody? It’s easier for me to do everything. I know everything,
do everything. If there’s any problem it’s my problem. I don’t have
nobody to blame except me and I learn from it. That’s the
reality.”
Now what is so cool about Astrodeck, apart from making the best
tail-pads money can buy, is the Fletchers never diluted their game
by bringing in investors. Always been Herb and his design
(his lucrative art, too) and Dibi on
the business levers. John John and Kolohe Andino both have
Astrodeck models but don’t get paid endorsements. They like, they
ride.
“Known ’em since they were kids,” says Dibi, who won’t omment on
the ten-bucks-a-pad arrangement.
Dibi, who has this beautiful way of adding “Do you
understand?” to most of her declarations, lights up when you
talk authenticity and the ins-and-outs of the surf industry.
Does she make money?
“If I was making money do you think I’d be sitting at this
fucking desk? You think at my age I’d be out the back shipping
pads? The reality is, it’s a very small, niche market. But I still
feel that I make the best pads. I have the best surfers in the most
critical positions. That’s what I’m interested in doing. Making the
best pads. Everyone in my family surfs. Unlike most of the other
pad companies, do you understand, they’ve got people in cubicles
making different coloured pads. They knock me off. I don’t care
about. I don’t give a shit!”
I keep it going because, dude, it’s not because I’m
making any fucking money. I keep it going
because it’s the right thing to do? No one in their right
fucking mind would do that. Do I like selling surf
pads? Do you understand? Do I like shipping them? There could
be better ways of spending my time. Money? There is NONE! But I’m
proud of our place in surf history. It’s important to keep it
alive.
Dibi adds, “That’s my story, honey, here I am! I make the
best pads in the world, we’re the original pad maker (since 1976),
we’ll always have market share as long as I stay authentic.
Companies went too big, they have to make their quarterly earnings.
If you want big, you have to go and push your brand all over the
place. Pretty soon you have no story left because you whitewashed
it to death to get your corporate earnings. All the other ones have
come and gone and I’m still here. It’s testament to the fact I
didn’t try to make it get really big. I didn’t have to accept other
people’s money. If you get too big you’ve lost the kernel of what
it can be. I can still have sand in surfing. All the big companies
have to appeal to the mother of a grammar school kid, do you
understand? And I’ve been here before all of ’em. I sold pads to
their dads! The best riders in the world in every generation. I
mean, that’s something that’s kinda fantastic!”
I ask about my investment.
“Good luck on making any money, honey!”
Suddenly Dibi detonates an explosion of cackles:
“Ahhhhhhhahhhahhahhh! Oh that’s funny! Honestly! I
have it so lean, do you understand, no employees. I have it so lean
and I run Herbie’s art thorough it to keep it going, I keep it
going because, dude, it’s not because I’m making any
fucking money. I keep it going because it’s the right thing to
do? No one in their right fucking mind would do
that. Do I like selling surf pads? Do you understand? Do I
like shipping them? There could be better ways of spending my
time. Money? There is NONE! But I’m proud of our place in surf
history. It’s important to keep it alive. It’s the right thing for
my kids, for my grandkids. It’s a part of history.”
Any more advice?
“I’ll tell you something. I’ll kick your ass at retail if you
come and compete with your brand. I’ll make sure of it. Honey boy,
if you don’t learn fast!”
With that, UPS is at the door and Dibi splits to grab the boxes
to shop.
“That’s so fucking awesome!” she says. “Hot dog!”
