Jason Adams — Fifty Years to Life and Clear Eyed Sobriety

Closer Skateboarding & Black Label Skateboards are proud to present ‘Fifty Years to Life’, a Jason Adams video part accompanied by our conversations with Jason about sobriety and this chapter in his life.

‘Fifty Years to Life’, a Jason Adams video part presented by Closer Skateboarding and Black Label Skateboards.

Words by Jaime Owens

Art Direction by Sammy Spiteri

Photography by Jai Tanju, Tobin Yelland, Jon Humpries and Jaime Owens

Jason Adams faced a turning point a few years back where he had a decision to make about where his life was headed. With the help of many of his family, friends and his love of skateboarding, Jason was able to get refocused from alcoholism and embark on a clearer future for himself.

Thankfully, Jason Adams is a fucking skateboarder. So, he dove headfirst into filming a video part for Closer at 50 years old to prove to himself he’s still the punk skate rat he’s been his whole life. Just the way we like him.

Today we’re presenting Jason’s feature interview — ‘Clear Eyed Sobriety’ — from the debut issue of Closer (spring 2022), alongside excerpts from ‘Fifty Years to Life’ from Closer Issue 6 (fall 2023) to accompany his part of the same name.

Thank you, Kid. This is where you belong.

Part I: ‘Clear Eyed Sobriety’

Originally published in Closer Skateboarding #1, Spring 2022

Jaime Owens: I was thinking we could jump straight into everything that happened at the end of last year. All of a sudden one day, your longtime friend Matt Eversole took over your Instagram account and let everybody know that you were going to rehab, and he set up a GoFundMe to help pay for the treatment. Talk about how things got to that point.

Jason Adams: Yeah, Matt ended up taking over my Instagram because I finally — I don’t know how I would even put it — I finally decided I was at my wits’ end, and I was not functioning. I could see something very bad was coming in the future if I didn’t deal with my issue. It was something that had been going on for years and years. It progressively got worse, my alcoholism and my drinking.

For years I was pretty functional, considering. It got worse and worse because you need more and more [alcohol]. As functional as I was — or thought I was — it hit me at one time. I started having these visions of, like, I’m barreling down this hill, going nowhere fast. I kept having this vision of heading towards a cliff. And if I get to that cliff, I’m gonna really fuck up some shit—my life, my family’s life. Shit’s not gonna be good. My brain was so cloudy, foggy and just so exhausted, physically, emotionally, mentally — I was done.

I had a moment where I said, “I can’t fucking do this anymore.” And I’ve known for a long time that I had a problem. Shit, two years ago I ended up in the hospital for a week with pancreatitis because of my drinking.

Jason Adams, sweeper | San Jose, California, 2022 | Jai Tanju

Oh man, yeah, I remember that being a heavy moment for you when you posted about that.

Yeah, I didn’t handle my shit then, either. I remember going to the hospital. I was fully detoxing, so they knew exactly what was going on. I was shaking and all that kind of stuff. Every morning, they would have the people from the rehab center come in. But after I got out of the hospital, I checked out the rehab facility at Kaiser.

I left there going, “I’m never coming back here.” And I just kept going. I didn’t drink for a while, and then I ended up drinking again. I [was] going through other stuff at the time, knowing I was gonna get divorced. I was dealing with all that shit the whole time while I was drinking, and I kind of cracked. I finally decided that I needed to go get help.

“I was dealing with all that shit the whole time while I was drinking and I kind of cracked. I finally decided that I needed to get help.”

— Jason Adams

You reached that point of turning to help for yourself, not because you had an intervention or anything.

I didn’t get myself in trouble. I didn’t have my family pressuring me. I knew everyone was concerned.… It’s amazing how well I could function. But I had to drink. If I was awake, I was drinking. I would go to bed with a stiff cocktail on my nightstand because I knew I would wake up at two in the morning shaking. And I needed to go back to sleep because I had to get up at six to get my kid to school, and then go to whatever job I was working or whatever. The amount I had to drink just to maintain myself was pretty insane. It finally got to me, and I said, “I have to fucking get help.”

That’s when I reached out to let everyone know. I let my family know. I let my closest friends know. Matt and my parents just kind of took over and decided to raise money so I could go to a proper place. We started looking at places around here. Then I remembered that I’d met Brandon Novak the prior summer. And a voice in my head was like, “Call Brandon.” He lined me up to go to the place that I went to, which was a really great place. So everything worked out great. And then my parents got together to raise the money to pay for it.

5050 | San Jose, California | Tobin Yelland, 1991

Going back to the pancreatitis hospital situation, you didn’t think that was the time to get help? 

I was thinking, “I don’t have to deal with this right now. I can handle it.” I can’t explain it. I had Kaiser insurance so I went to their rehab facility. But in my mind, I knew I had to go to work. I mean, I just worked for cash during that time. If I’m not working, then I have no money. It’s not like I have a job where I can take time off for a medical issue. 

I went in there, like, “I don’t need to do this. I don’t want to do this.” But looking back at it now, I didn’t want to quit. I knew I needed to, and I knew I should. I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t hit my rock bottom. Being in the hospital for a week wasn’t my rock bottom. What changed this time when I decided to go was [thinking] “I want to.” It wasn’t “I need to” or “I should do this”; it was “I want to.” Whenever I say I want to, which is not about a lot of things, it sticks in my brain, like, “Okay, I want to. I’m gonna fucking do this.”

Can you recall what sparked your drinking?

This whole thing has been more than 10 years in the making. It started when the economy crashed in 2008. That was when my anxiety went through the roof and I started drinking crazy. When the economy crashed my paychecks got cut from brands and I was going through a midlife crisis. It was all within three months, too. I went from making a good chunk of money to making $500 a month in just three months—basically nothing.

“I would go to bed with a stiff cocktail on my nightstand because I knew I would wake up at two in the morning shaking.”

— Jason Adams

That’s fucking insane, to have to wrap your head around that reality so quickly.

Oh, yeah, it was mind boggling. I owned a house and I had two kids. My marriage was rocky and that’s when my wife and I split up for the first time. I crashed and that’s when my drinking really started. But it took a lot of years for it to get its claws in me to where I was physically addicted.

The skate lifestyle of partying and having fun has always been a thing many skaters fall victim to, but you always seemed completely in control of it. When did you start to realize something was changing? 

Before, my drinking was partying for fun. It wasn’t drinking to medicate. But then I started drinking to medicate because my anxiety was making me unable to function, day to day. Rather than get checked out, or on meds, I just drank.

It just took a long time to fully take hold. It starts with beer and wine. Next thing you know, I’m drinking vodka. It’s crazy. Looking back, it seems unreal how you can get to that point. But when you’re in the middle of it, it’s crazy how your mind lies to you, tells you that you need it, and it’s not a big deal. All that bullshit.

Yeah, you couldn’t see the forest because of the trees. But now you’re looking back at it, like, “Holy shit. That’s what I was going through.”

Yeah. You’re always telling yourself that you’ll get through this next project and then you’ll get clean. I kept doing that year after year.

“After this, I’m going to clean up my act.”

I couldn’t tell you how many times I tried to quit and it just didn’t work.

Frontside Air | San Jose, California | Jon Humphries, 2002

How was this rehab place you were at recently?

It was pretty intensive, to be honest. It was a very serene and nice place, but you’re in meetings of some sort from eight in the morning until eight at night, seven days a week. I could make two phone calls for 10 minutes each a week. There’s no TV in your room. You don’t have your cell phone. You don’t have a computer. You don’t have shit. It’s meetings that help you fi nd ways to cope with anxiety and depression. It’s all kinds of different sorts of things of learning about addiction and learning about your triggers and learning where it comes from. Then you also have a personal therapist, and

you do these group therapy sessions. You do one-on-one therapy sessions. And they also teach other things, like SMART recovery [Self-Management and Recovery Training], which is more of a scientific approach to learning about addiction rather than, like, the spiritual approach that AA is. So it felt like a real recovery place. What I learned by going is that a lot of rehab centers are a joke. There are these high-end ones that you just go on vacation to tell people you’re going to rehab. Or there’s the ones that are just, like, insurance scams, so they don’t really give a fuck about you; they just want your insurance money and they let you do whatever, like watch TV, and you just go to a couple of [alcoholics anonymous] meetings.

“It’s funny, I called [Brandon Novak] and he goes, “I thought I was going to be getting this call sometime.”

He told me he could tell I wasn’t wiling out or anything like that, but he said, “I could tell the party was over a long time ago.”

— Jason Adams

This latest one sounds like boot camp.

It was gnarly. The eight-to-eight all-day is them focusing you on getting your money’s worth. It’s the way it should be. I’m so thankful I met Brandon Novak. He’s the one who got me there. He had a connection and called them: “My boy needs to come and get help.” He actually got ten grand taken off the fucking bill, which was great! He hooked it up. It was a great place and they really gave a fuck.

Damn, that’s great Brandon was able to help you. Having him in your corner and knowing how heavy of a journey he’s been through had to help, right?

Yeah, dude. Just the fact that I’d randomly met him because I went on this Punk Rock & Paintbrushes tour in the Midwest. I wasn’t going to go, and he wasn’t going to go, and at the last minute I decided to go blast it. He decided to go too. I didn’t know him at all before. I didn’t even remember him; I never watched Jackass. I had no clue who the dude was. But we met, and he’s the coolest motherfucker. On that tour, he did his motivational speaking about addiction. That’s why it clicked for me to call him, because he knows his business. It’s funny, I called him and he goes, “I thought I was going to be getting this call sometime.”

He told me he could tell I wasn’t wiling out or anything like that, but he said, “I could tell the party was over a long time ago.” That’s exactly what he said. He could tell that I was drinking to maintain. I’m so thankful to have met him. He’s such a solid dude.

Backside lip slide | Huntington Beach, CA | Jon Humphries, 2002

“There’s a lot of people in rehab that are literally, like, professional rehabbers.

“Oh, this is my eighth time.”

And they’re, like, 28 years old or younger.”

— Jason Adams

You were in rehab for a full month. What’s it like getting to the end of that part of the journey and how did you feel?

I was feeling very positive. I took it seriously. I watched a lot of people in there, watched them coming in and out, and I could see how it would play out. I would be like, “Good luck. Good fucking luck.” There’s a lot of people in rehab that are literally, like, professional rehabbers. 

“Oh, this is my eighth time.”

And they’re, like, 28 years old or younger. I was very serious about it. I went to all the meetings. I did the damn thing and I could just tell something was changing. Something 

clicked in me. I sucked up every bit of information. I left there super confident.

It’s gotta be scary for some people not having that support system on the outside. That’s where I feel like you have an advantage, because so many people love and care about you outside of your immediate family and friends.

Man, all the Instagram messages have been so supportive; this big community that wants to support you. The amount of support I’ve gotten was actually… To be honest, it was overwhelming. For a couple of weeks, the majority of my time was just responding to people. And also just letting out my dirty laundry to my little world, to all these people I don’t even know. I don’t want to let any of them down. I think one of the reasons why I wasn’t afraid was because I just said fuck it and put it out there. Like, “This is where I’m at. I don’t have to lie about it anymore.”

Frontside air | Los Angeles, Californi | Jon Humpries, 2002

That’s gotta be scary as hell to put something so personal out there like that. At the same time, it has to feel so good to get that weight off your shoulders and not hide from it?

Absolutely. That was another thing: I really broke down crying, feeling like I was at my wits’ end. I was getting up and looking in the mirror and going, like, “I’m starting to not recognize this dude.” I’ve never been a liar, but you start lying about your using and it starts to become easier to lie about all kinds of other shit. I didn’t recognize myself. I was turning into a fucking liar. So that was the first part of the process—that mindset decision to finally deal with it.

I think that’s the biggest hurdle for anyone doing that. You have to want to do it. If people are forcing you, and you’re not ready, it backfires. Especially someone like myself. I think that’s why no one that was close to me really ever pushed me to get help. They probably knew: “If we pressure him, he’s gonna do the opposite.” I don’t mean that in a ridiculously selfish way. But I make my choices. No one can convince me to do anything unless I’m asking for someone’s opinion that I really want.

“It’s not a shameful thing to ask for help.”

— Jason Adams

What did it feel like to get out of there?

I felt confident that I was ready. I felt like it was going to be a new lease on life. I know this is not going to be easy. But I learned so much throughout that whole process. It’s simple things that you hear from people that have been through it; it sinks in a little deeper. The little things, like, “Just take it one day at a time. Don’t think about the future. Don’t fucking regret the past.” Things like that. I’m doing good, though. With that foundation of knowing that you are capable of asking for help, and that you can be aware of the signs much earlier if you see them, puts you in a much better and stronger place. I just have a lot of confidence in myself. I want to fucking do this. I know if I pick up a drink, I’m fucking going to ruin my life. But just in the short time that I’ve been out, like all the things that I’ve done without drinking, it’s constant, every day. It’s more of a confidence booster every day I go.

John Lucero and Jason Adams | Santa Ana, California | Jaime Owens, 2022

That’s awesome. I think you putting all of this on social media and putting it out there was why I wanted to have this in the mag, too. I feel like the more people that hear about it, there’s a greater chance to help someone else going through the same thing. How does it make you feel, knowing that it’s already affecting people in a positive way?

I remember even before I went to rehab, when I decided just to put it out there, it did cross my mind. Like, it would be awesome to be able to help other people going through this, because it can be a shameful feeling and an embarrassing situation to be in. To go to someone and say, “Yeah, I have a drinking problem” or “I have a drug problem.” It shouldn’t make you feel less than. It would be great if I could help people. I mean, I’ve already had some people hit me up and go, “I’ve been on the edge for a while. I’ve been wanting to quit doing this, quit doing that, for years, and I’m going to do it now.” That’s a great feeling for sure. And hopefully there’ll be more.

That’s so fucking rad that you’re doing better. I appreciate you sharing this story and talking honestly about some heavy stuff. It’s great to see you take the initiative on this journey, because we all know you can do it. You know we’re all behind you.

Yeah, man, I appreciate it. I just want people to know it’s not a shameful thing to ask for help.

Part II: ‘Fifty Years to Life’

Originally published in Closer Skateboarding #6, Summer 2023

Jason Adams by Jaime Owens, 2023

Jaime Owens: Talk about your journey over the past two years and how this ‘Fifty Years to Life’ video part and interview came about.

Jason Adams: Yeah, it’s been a trip to be honest. I went from kind of living in a weird bubble my whole life. And then from there, basically living in a bottle, but I didn’t realize it at the time. In hindsight, it was a gradual thing to get to where it just consumed me until I finally got help. And after I got out of rehab, it took almost eight months before I started feeling normal. I remember telling my girlfriend that I feel like I’m looking at the world through someone else’s eyes or someone else’s body. It was just weird. It just took a bit to really acclimate and realize, “Okay, this is your full-time job. You’re a single dad to a teenage daughter now.” It’s been awesome.

It’s been the biggest challenge of my life for sure. Fortunately, as much of a struggle as it’s been, the struggles haven’t been the no drinking, which has been great. It’s been the reality of being a single dad, you know, trying to make money and working with an extremely limited time schedule. It’s been a challenge. I’m not gonna lie, but it’s been great. I can’t complain whatsoever. I’m just appreciating the time with my daughter. She still sees her mom, but it’s just us. It’s been a wild two years, but it’s great.

Frontside smith | Fullerton, California | Jaime Owens, 2023

And so with all that real life responsibility you decided to add on top of that, “Hey, I’m going to film a new video part!”

Exactly. I came up with a term for myself, I have “foolish tenacity”. I was trying to figure out what the heck I was doing. I was wanting to give myself some time to re-adjust when I got out of rehab. I took some house painting work and was doing the art hustle and stuff like that. I was getting out skating here and there, and then I started to feel it again. I was making my little shitty phone videos and it was fun.

Then around last winter, I was really enjoying doing my stupid little videos and getting feedback from old dudes being like, “Hey, you got me back on my board.” Or, “You got me to get sober and get back on my board.” I was hearing a lot of this stuff all while I was going through some soul searching of figuring out my next move. I was struggling financially just doing painting work, which I enjoy. It’s honest work but I realized I could be doing so much more. There’s more to life for me right now than just going and painting bedrooms.

“I have ‘foolish tenacity'”

— Jason Adams

My girlfriend took me on a little overnight trip, and I couldn’t sleep one night. I was kind of depressed thinking, “What the fuck?” Then I just had this this idea to do this thing and it got me excited. I realized how much I love skateboarding but I wasn’t satisfied with the phone videos. I love the process of filming video parts. I love having a goal. I love having that thing. I also was really enjoying hearing the feedback from people like me and my age about how inspiring it was to see me out there still doing it. It seemed like something meaningful if I did it right. It clicked in my head. I wanted to do it. And once I get an idea in my head, I want to fucking do it.

Even though it makes no sense for someone at my age to be doing this because I don’t have sponsors that are expecting me to do a damn thing. I just need to have these things to work towards to keep me sane. You know, and so why the hell not? Here we are talking.

Frontside air | Pasadena, California | Jaime Owens, 2023

I totally agree. I’ve had those thoughts ringing in my head for the past few years as well. Thinking about life and how much skateboarding is still so ingrained in my soul and why it’s so important to us that we have dedicated our lives to it. 

Yeah, I had the same thing. For years, I was letting that noise of age and doubt seep into my mind thinking it was time to move on. I never did. I just drank to numb myself to make myself fi t into the position I was in in life. I was trying to be a grown up about it and trying to accept it. But I really didn’t because I just fucking drank. So, part of that time after rehab was trying to figure out, “Where’s your place and what do you want to do?” I’m not irresponsible but I’m not an extreme realist. I’ve never been able to accept, “This is your age and this is your position in life. Just deal with it and go work at UPS.” I’ve always been kind of a dreamer. I have always been that way since I was a kid, you know. I just thought, “Fuck, I just love skating.” So, I’m just gonna try to be a creative person and make it work somehow until I just can’t. And when I say creative person that’s skateboarding, making pictures, doing whatever. What I’ve always done.

Ollie | Sadlands, California | Jaime Owens, 2023

We got to skate Sadlands with [John] Lucero and Lance [Mountain]. Talk about how cool that was even for you.

When I was in high school, Sadlands was the place I wanted to be. But by the time I got to that age and made it down south, they had just covered them up. So recently I asked John if it was still skateable in some way because I may have caught a glimpse of people skating a section of it recently. Then we went and Lance came, too. Lance is one of my favorites of all time. And to this day, I always look at him like, “Look at Lance.” It’s just been so fucking cool to have him on the sessions.

“If it inspires people to better themselves in any way, that’s great. I get reassured every time I go out with you guys, I think, “This is where I’m supposed to be.””

— Jason Adams

Yeah, I love that this is all you. No obligations. Just your desire to push yourself.

I’m kind of repeating myself, but I really think the initial push for this was also to be able to use what I’ve gone through. Rather than being some sort of AA advocate constantly talking about what it’s like, how about if I just do things to show what you can do? I’ll talk about it whenever anyone asks me or hits me up, or like this interview, I’ll be totally open and honest. I want to keep doing things like that, because it’s the best feeling when people hit you up, saying they’d gotten clean, or when they hit you up to say they’re inspired to try and get clean or anything like that. It just seems like I should be trying to do something. Granted, it’s a very self-centered project as well, but I’m enjoying the hell out of it. [laughs]

All video parts are somewhat self-centered, but at the same time you realize what effect it has on people and the good that can come from it.

Yeah, how can I apply my situation? Sometimes, I get hit up from the rehab place and they ask me if I ever want to come back and talk and I have to say no because I’m not a talker like that. Where I’m at in life right now, I don’t feel any conviction to do anything like that. I can’t say I won’t in the future, but maybe when I feel like I’ve successfully come out of it somehow. [laughs] I just like doing this better and if it inspires people to better themselves in any way, that’s great. I get reassured every time I go out with you guys, I think, “This is where I’m supposed to be.”

Read Jason Adam’s full ‘Fifty Years to Life’ interview in Closer Skateboarding Issue 6, available on the Closer web shop and at skate stores worldwide.

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More from Issue 6 of Closer Skateboarding

• A Static Retrospective with Josh Stewart: Part I: Starting Light — the Original Static Trilogy • Part II: Closing Doors — Static IV and V • Part III: End of the Line — Josh Stewart on Static VI
• Leo Romero talks Stay Gold and Grinding Up Handrails

Favorites from the print edition of Closer

• ‘Have You Met Nelly Morville?’ — An Interview with Limosine’s Breakout Star
• Ariana Spencer — One Rad Mom
• Topography: Wallrides with Silas Baxter-Neal
• The Long Play with Mason Silva: Early 2000s Skate Video Soundtracks
• Louie Lopez on AVE’s Green Bench