CammyKnoxville and the End of an Era

I recently went to see Jackass: Best and Last this past weekend to celebrate the end of an era. For those who are unaware, I was a massive Jackass fan from back in the day, and thought very highly of Johnny Knoxville and his crew. Yes, I recreated the stunts with my friends and recorded it. Yes, I wore aviators everywhere I went and called myself 'CammyKnoxville' online. Yes, I was clearly a loner, Dottie. A rebel.

First of all, I loved the new movie. Early reviews said it was half new stuff, half best of bits, but I found it to be more of a 60/40 split. The parts that intrigued me the most were the unseen archival footage of Knoxville shooting himself in the chest, and pretending to be an escaped inmate in a Hollywood hardware store. You hear about these things, but never expected to witness the lore because of how much legal red tape they would have had to go through. I can definitely understand why they never aired the gunshot to the chest stunt, because that had all the makings of being recreated by dumb teenagers with access to firearms, and a trail of families with dead kids suing the network.

While I loved the pranks and stunts at the beginning of the franchise, in the later movies it's all about the chemistry of the remaining cast. It's like revisiting old friends and seeing what they're up to now. I did want to like the new additions of the last film and this one, but the only two standouts in my mind were Poopies and Zach. Perhaps it was for the best they never relaunched the series with the new cast, it just wouldn't have felt the same.

Knoxville himself has been saying "this is the last one!" for years and we would just roll our eyes and say, "oh, sure it is," but this time it definitely felt more final. Seeing Knoxville get emotional almost made me equally emotional. But I would much rather he go out still leading the charge, than passing unexpectedly (from years of head trauma, no doubt) and having it end with a whiff. It's still upsetting that we lost Ryan Dunn many years ago, because he was the true heart behind the cast, and Bam's never been the same since his best friend's death.

Now that it's over, I have hours of footage to rewatch whenever I need a pick me up. It was a product of its time, and now a forever staple in pop culture. That's not even covering the spin-offs that came from it: Viva La Bam, Wildboyz, Homewrecker, Nitro Circus, and (Academy Award winner) Bad Grandpa. PlutoTV could just make an entire channel dedicated to the series, movies, and spin-offs that played 24/7 and I'd happily have it on in the background. The Eric Andre Show is the closest thing I can compare it to nowadays in regards to pranks and insanity.

Below is a little origin story of my CammyKnoxville screenname, as well as my history with Jackass. I originally wrote it for an eventual memoir of different vignettes a la Sedaris, but if we're being honest, it will probably never get published. Enjoy.

CammyKnoxville

When people see my “Cammyknoxville” screenname or email address, two thoughts usually come to mind: Either I’m originally from Knoxville, Tennessee, or I’m a big fan of Johnny Knoxville of MTV’s Jackass TV show. It’s the latter. It’s just one of those things that sticks around, no matter how much you’ve changed as a person. Fortunate for me, I’ve always been a bit of a jackass, so I can still relate to it.

Growing up in a household that didn’t believe in cable, I was always left out of the loop when it came to what TV shows were considered “cool.” My friends were gleefully watching South Park and Jackass, and I was stuck with the basic channels. I’d have to go over to a friend’s house if I wanted to watch a program in particular, as long as it wasn’t past curfew. My parents loved to read, so TV wasn’t a big deal to them until after my sister and I graduated high school. After that, the flood gates were opened and now my mother religiously records every European and American soccer game, as well as every NCIS/CSI: franchise. If it has an acronym and clues to solving a murder, my mother is up to date on it. Better than daytime soaps, I guess.

Prior to being exposed to Jackass, my younger cousin Wells introduced me to CKY, the series that starred Bam Margera and his friends that pre-dated and eventually helped lead to Jackass. Wells was an extremely talented skateboarder, and his collection of skating VHS tapes was vast. Because CKY is a mix of pranks, skits, and skateboarding, Wells had every one of them. The humor was explicit, the stunts were hilarious, and Bam could definitely skateboard. It always irked me that my cousin, who wasn’t even in his teens yet, could watch this stuff and yet I couldn’t. Where was the justice?

During my freshman year of high school, I didn’t have many close friends. I was in musical theatre, and yet I was still a privileged little white kid looking to rebel just because. I had to give myself an edge to counteract the sissiness of musical theatre. I was already scared that people thought I was probably gay for joining the musical theatre program, so I felt the urge to prove everyone wrong. I wasn’t a twinkle-toes, I was a badass, dammit! I was into punk rock bands like the Misfits and Anti-Flag, skateboarding, and hanging with a questionable group that enjoyed both. Was I any good at skateboarding? Never. I was pretty awful. I could barely ollie, let alone kickflip, but none of that mattered when you were just hanging out after school just skating around and attempting to cause trouble like little hoodlums.

There were two kinds of skateboarders; the talented, popular older kids, and then me and my friends. We were comprised of middle schoolers, freshmen, and one sophomore. Nick was the oldest, and beside from being an actual skateboarder, he was a videographer as well. He always showed us the skating footage he took, using a fisheye lens to ensure the entire shot was captured. He was proficient using the editing bay in the high school’s video production studio to piece together the perfect skating videos. Butters was a freshman like me, and a good ol’ boy originally from Florida. He had a great southern accent, and because of his bulk and size, he was virtually impervious to name calling and getting hurt. It was always hilarious seeing one of the younger guys call him a name from a few feet away, thinking he was too slow to retaliate, then suddenly they’d find themselves in a headlock as he took his sweet time making them regret their foolish decision.

Mike, Brandon, Paul, and Brendan were all 8^th graders, and always talking all-things skateboarding. They lived, ate, and breathed it, dressing in the baggiest of pants and the expensive name brand skating shoes like DC and Osiris. They naturally looked up to Butters, Nick, and myself because we were older, and the only reason we were all able to hang out together was the middle school and high school shared a campus at the time. They all lived next door to each other six miles away in Navy housing on the Strand. I was the only one who lived on Coronado, and found myself isolated and without transport to hang out with them on the weekends.

At this point Jackass was incredibly popular, and I had to do my best to hide the fact that I’d never seen it. Thankfully I already knew some of the names of the stars from CKY, and after hearing them talk enough about certain pranks and stunts, I was able to mimic what were my favorite parts without causing too much suspicion. Eventually I’d see an episode or two at a friend’s house during a slumber party or gathering, and I would watch every minute with my eyes glued to the screen, studying intensely.

It was incredible.

This was my generation’s Three Stooges, blended with punk rock and crack, and I came to worship these men as deities. I got a thrill when I recognized some of the CKY crew involved. When Jackass: The Movie was announced, I was floored when my own father was the one to suggest we go see it. I found out later that he read a few good reviews in the paper about it, and had always loved slap-stick and watching people getting hurt. Plus it was considered controversial at the time, so he wanted to see what all the hullabaloo was about. So on Sunday during its opening weekend, we headed to Horton Plaza with Red Vines and gummy worms smuggled under our t-shirts. From the opening shot to the sequence after the credits, my dad and I were crying from laughing so hard. Despite some of the more raunchy and over-the-top moments, my dad loved it just as much as I did. Finally, I felt like I could go to school the next day and not only be a part of the discussion, but actually lead the discussion if I wanted.

Sure enough, my group of friends had seen the movie as well, and after a lengthy discussion about how it should be nominated for the Best Picture Oscar, we came to an agreement: We had to film our own Jackass movie. It was perfect; Nick had a camera and an editing bay, and the rest of us could perform the stunts. Nothing too hardcore, we didn’t want our parents to deny us or put a stop to what we were attempting, but just enough to cause mayhem on Coronado on the weekends. I know they have the WARNING: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PERFORM THESE STUNTS promo before every episode, but like every other young person at the time, we saw this as more of a suggestion rather than an actual warning.

First we needed to decide on a name. It had to be something cool, hardcore, and funny, just like Jackass and Camp Kill Yourself, and we eventually settled on “Corrupted Youth.” We decided to copy the stunts of both series, and try to add some skateboarding footage if we could. Renegades of Awesomeness, we were going to make a name for ourselves at Coronado High. We planned to shoot on the weekends, with a vague idea of what segments we were actually going to shoot. Some of our very first pieces of footage included shopping carts and bushes. One person would crouch in a shopping cart, while the second person would push them incredible fast into a bush, sending them flying. I was incredibly surprised how much air one can get from a few feet of pushing, and usually we would aim for the biggest, densest bushes for a more comfortable landing. One moment you’re crouched down low, the next, you’re soaring through the air like a leaf on the wind. After coming down hard through the branches of the bush like a downed eagle, the world stops as your fall is broken by a spiky, leafy memory foam. Everything is silent, and a moment later an eruption of cheers from your friends can be heard. It was quite the rush, and made for some great footage. While we didn’t wear helmets, we did wear a lovely assortment of flimsy hats for protection. 

Because we were shooting down by the Ferry Landing near my house, no police or security would patrol the area unless we made enough noise and disturbed the old elderly residents. The walking dead would be on patrol most afternoons, and only a few times would they try to confront us.

“This is private property. Leave now.”

“No it’s not, it’s public property. See all the tourists?”

“I’ll call the police.”

“Do it.”

“You have no right to destroy these bushes.”

“We’re not destroying them in any way!”

“I’m calling the police!”

We would wait until they were actually walking back to their condos before packing up and preparing to bail. Because of the distance from the Ferry Landing to their condos, and how slow they walked, we knew we had a good 20-30 minutes until they were actually back at their home and talking to the police. While the Coronado Police Department is incredibly attentive because they are extremely bored, calls from the elderly regarding hooligans playing in shopping carts would only result in a Senior Volunteer car being sent out to investigate. If the residents were clever, they should have mentioned “African American males” and the police would have been down within seconds, loaded for bear (I learned that was a tactic of one resident, but that was years later). By that time we were long gone, off to our next location to film.

In my exaggerated estimation, 50% of Coronado is the Navy and Amphibious Bases, 30% is the golf course, and the remaining 20% is actual residential housing. Because we weren’t allowed on the Navy base—probably a good thing—the golf course was one of our favorite targets. And the best part was, it was extremely accessible to simply walk on to the property. A few years prior in middle school, my friends and I would play Capture the Flag on occasion on the golf course late at night, because they still had the flags secured in the all the holes. The grass was slick from all the sprinklers, the abundance of trees made for great hiding spots, and the sand traps would act as jails. The course was monstrous, and by the time we were done playing, we’d all be exhausted from the intensity of it all. It felt like there was no security at night, and we always made sure to return the flags so there wouldn’t be a need for security for future games.

During the day and especially on the weekends, field marshals could always be seen zipping around the course in their little golf carts, checking in with groups of golfers playing the course and making sure everything was running smoothly. Those were the folks we were looking out for, for they didn’t mess around with the kind of nonsense we had planned. One of my favorite pranks from Jackass: The Movie was the scene where Johnny Knoxville, Dave England, and Ehren McGhehey hide out in bushes on a golf course with air horns, blowing the horn just as the golfers swing, causing them to screw up and get furious. The reactions were amazing, and lucky for me, I had a huge golf course in my own backyard. Equipped with an air horn from my dad’s boat and a pair of old aviator shades from an Elvis Presley costume, I was dubbed “CammyKnoxville” and I lead the planning of the prank.

Along the golf course there’s a public bike path that separates the course from the general public. Several “No Trespassing” signs are littered about, but again, those were just mere suggestions to us. My plan was I’d hide behind a big bush on the course next to the bike path, blow the horn as they swung the club, then run across the bike path and across the street into the neighborhood for safety. The awaiting group and I would scatter like roaches if anyone gave chase, and Nick would catch the whole thing on camera from across the street.

The very first group that arrived at the green to tee off was my target, for I knew we couldn’t stick around at the same spot all day and give ourselves away. An air horn has a very distinct sound, and hearing one on land, let alone on a golf course, would raise some serious suspicions. My target was an older gentleman with gray hair, a yellow polo shirt, and green golf shorts. I waited patiently for him to get ready to tee off, keeping close watch on his practice swings. I knew the average golfer took roughly 2-3 practice swings before the actual one, so I had to pay close attention not to miss the precise moment. He shifted his stance to a sturdier one, and I knew this was it. Heart pounding, I readied my finger on the air horn and waited for the upswing. The key was to wait for him to achieve the maximum height of the upswing, that moment where the club was transitioning from back to forward. As soon as I spied that precise moment, I pressed my finger down on the top button and let air horn scream bloody murder.

The golfer hit the biggest clod of dirt I’d ever seen. A missile of earth rocketed up in the air, crashing down eight feet away. Knoxville himself would have been proud. 

A silent scream of laughter, I turned around and high-tailed it past the bike path, across the street, and towards my cheering group of friends. A few of them were on the ground from laughing so hard, and I couldn’t wait to join them, my adrenaline pumping. But before I even made it across the street, the looks on their faces suddenly turned to panic, and they started to run in different directions. Quickly looking over my shoulder, I spied that the golfer had started to run up the small hill and across the bike path towards us. I then proceeded to run at full speed and didn’t look back until I had run two blocks into the neighborhood. The only person who didn’t end up running was Nick, who was recording the whole thing, and because of that, that’s who the golfer went after.

Nick isn’t intimidating by any means. Normally dressed in baggy jeans and an oversized hoodie, his tall, lanky figure was still very obvious. Suddenly realizing the golfer was running directly at him, he continued filming but kept the camera down at his side, still pointed at the golfer as the confrontation started.

“Give me the fucking tape.”

“Leave me alone, man, I’m not doing anything.”

“Give me the tape, you fucking little shit.”

“I’m not giving you the tape, man.”

“You think you’re a tough guy, don’t you?”

“No.”

“I’m going to kick your fucking ass if you don’t give me the tape.”

“I’ve got you on camera threatening me, man.”

The golfer didn’t like the sound of that, then grabbed for the camera, which Nick easily side-stepped. Defeated, the golfer headed back across the street to the course where his group of friends stood watching.

“Fucking punks.”

“Fuck you!”

All caught on camera. Obviously the golfer was extremely embarrassed and upset that we caused him to hit a major clog of dirt in front of his golf buddies, so I understand why he would want to destroy the tape so there would be no evidence of his shame. He was holding on to his club during the entire altercation, and I’m surprised he didn’t threaten to use it on Nick. If I were put in the golfer’s golf shoes, I probably would have aimed for the camera with my club. If Nick lost a few fingers, oh well. Reputation saved!

Immediately Nick made two copies of the tape and the prank, and it circulated around the school within our various circles of friends. The reaction was the same to everyone we showed it to: pure laughter. When I showed it to my own farther, he was giddy like a child with his high-pitched laughter. He promptly told me to stop circulating the tape at school, for news spread fast in a tiny community like Coronado, and for all we knew that could have been someone’s uncle or grandfather. My copy of the tape exchanged hands too many times, and eventually became lost. To this day I still don’t know who the last person to borrow it was, but it crushes my heart knowing I’ll probably never get to see it again. It didn’t make it to the final cut of our film, because Nick accidentally lost the original footage, and the other copy of the tape also disappeared.

We still had plenty of other pranks and footage to use, including more air horn golf shots, but it just wasn’t the same as mine: I timed it perfectly, and the result was absolutely flawless.

When our Corrupted Youth VHS tape was finally created, we bought a bunch of blank tapes and made several copies for friends (and some family). The whole tape was maybe twenty minutes, and had us recreating several things from Jackass (Night Monkey, shopping carts, air horn golf), as well as original pranks such as skateboarding down the carpeted stairs of the Hotel Del on a skateboard with no wheels, shooting tiny bottle rockets at each other on the sand dunes of the beach, skateboarding down steep hills and crashing out in bushes/plants at the bottom, and causing car alarms to go off all down one neighborhood street. We even used the same music from the movie as the soundtrack. It's a surprise MTV didn't fly us all out to New York and sign us right there!

After the video came out, our group kind of disbanded and stopped doing the stunts and pranks. Which was fine ultimately, because just the experience of shooting it was the most fun we'd had during that time. An excuse to hang out outside of school and cause trouble with the biggest mischievous smiles across our faces.

The next semester Nick asked for me to help participate in another video, this one as a part of a class project between him and another older student. I can't remember the class or why videos were needed for the assignment in particular, but more stunts were to be involved. This time on Razor scooters.

The video was called, Stop! Or I'll Scoot!, and involved us dressed in neon track suits, hats, and 80s sunglasses, barreling down steep hills again, but now on Razor scooters. We would proceed to crash out in the bushes at the bottom, or sometimes an empty flowerbed filled with dirt. While it was fun to shoot, the footage didn't look as cool as we had hoped. Nonetheless, it was Nick and I'd last hurrah before he transferred to another state later that year.

The rest of our motley crew disbanded in a similar fashion, each of them with a parent in the Navy. Only I remained on Coronado, now once again alone, and musical theatre to focus on.

While I never broke a bone or hurt myself, I did learn a lot about myself and what I was capable of. And little did I know at the time, would help serve me a few years later when I started producing, editing, and starring in my own online videos for a video game forum I was an active member in. Those videos eventually would evolve into Cammy's Comic Corner, and the rest is history.

"If you're gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough." I was plenty dumb, but the memories I take away from that time are ones I'll continue to cherish for the rest of my life. Jackass never set out to change the world, but it did make people laugh pretty damn hard. Sometimes in life, that's all you need to continue on.