By Curtis Kulig

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

I fly out of sunny LA early morning to arrive in cold, windy NYC that evening. Grab a cab to Yaya’s, drop off bags. Why did I come here? Skate? Too cold. Photos? Let loose? I guess. Hang out with NY legend Harif Guzman? That’s it.

First two nights I stay on Mercer in Soho, then it’s off to Uncle Harif’s giant loft down the street on Canal and Greene. Harif’s place usually consists of girls, late nights, late late nights, drinking, cigs, that sort of thing. I prepare myself for what’s coming. People call his place grownup daycare. He’s lived there four years. The place is huge. Who knows how he pays for it. Last time I was there the Nike miniramp was in full effect. This time not so much. Now the skate spot has been turned into bedrooms and the Haculla office. Business.

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