Red Jersey: Heat Winner

Ed- classic longboard division, Steinlager Series @ Bowls.

What a sick shot from Magic Island.

6'2 5-Fin Campbell Brothers Egg

Off the drop, off the top, into the slot...

Happy Thanksgiving

Two worthy candidates each take turns telling us who should get the leftover Thanksgiving turkey. While the dog pleaded his case, it was Wyatt at the end who got the dark meat turkey.

Happy Turkey Day to everyone. I spent the day watching some football, tossing back some pale ales, and eating turkey at Jake's house. Dominica made a great turkey and an apple dessert cake.

Slaying Dragons.

"What are we doing today?" -Sloane

"No. The question is: what aren't we doing today?" -Ferris Bueller

Jazz Soundtrack to the Surfing Roadtrip

Miles Davis- Blue in Green = twighlight in the van is quite beautiful.


George Benson-From Now on
Grover Washington- E Preciso Perdoar
Stan Getz- A Handful of Stars
Miles Davis- Blue in Green
Stan Getz- One Note Samba
John Coltrane- Lazy Bird
Jimmy Smith & Wes Montgomery- OGD (The Road Song)
John Scofield- A Go Go
Santana- Aquamarine
Jimi Tenor- Theme Sax
Tommy Guerrero- B.W.'s Blues
Tortoise- It's All Around You.
Ramsey Lewis- Do What You Wanna
Gotan Project Meets Chet Baker- Round About Midnight.

Staircase, Malibu

Tim Gifford and Sage Humphries, where are you?

The times I spent shortboarding in CA were usually at punchy LA beachbreaks- places like Venice, Staircase, County Line, Drainpipes/Zuma, and the South Bay. it's really hard to ride small boards at the crowded spots on average days, since CA is like 2 out of 3 longboarders. Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. Ride everything. A good Indian can shoot any size arrow, right? Tim Gifford (MIA), Chris Cruz, and I used to scope out the northern limits of L.A. County for surf. Sometimes we scored. Most times, Tim would say, "San Diego is much better. So much better."

Garage Sale, Venice Beach.

My bike just became theirs...

When Pam moved out of her place on Walgrove Ave., she held a garage sale on a Saturday. The fortunate few who passed by on foot or in car really scored on some deals on all kinds of sweet stuff.

Among the treasures was this Cartel lowrider bicycle that she had custom made from San Diego. These 3 nice fellows paid $200 bills and found themselves the proud new owner of a very, very, very small bike.

Walking...

2 steps forward...

5 fins are sometimes better than 3...

Venturi channels...
Side runners...
A 6.5" center fin...
=A Campbell Brothers Surfboard.

Oh, the vanity.

For those of you who have gone #1, you know what I'm talking about.

The plague is setting in...

Larry David- this is a very, very funny man.

I've been beat down pretty bad by some kind of third world country sickness. I'm not sure how to feel, other than this bug I have is screwing with my sleep, work, and exercise times. I can't function. I have been watching old episodes of "Curb Your Enthusiasm." But at the end, despite the laughs and chuckles, I'm still frickin' sick.

Steering towards the Charthouse

Doing my best Herbie Fletcher impression at Santa Monica's best point...

Happy Birthday, Jeremy.

JP turned the big "33." His birthday was celebrated, as usual, camping at San Elijo. Looking forward to seeing you soon, buddy.

West Side Oahu

Toes first, please. Pam on a 9'0" Donald Takayama DT-2.

Lakers at 76ers, Wachovia Center

Kobe to AI: "Before you shoot your free throws, you might want to check your fly."

Darren took me to the Lakers-76ers game at the Wachovia Center for my birthday. He was fascinated by the gladiatorial match up between Kobe and Iverson. We almost got arrested for trying to buy tickets off some shady scalper, so Darren decided to pay full price at the box office: $115 per ticket. Seats were 17 rows up, at half court. It was a great game, but far from a sports classic. AI dropped 30+ on the Lakers so fast you didn't even notice. Kobe dropped 30+ turnovers on his own team. I could feel myself cursing under my breath with each careless mistake. The poor guy couldn't make a gimme layup. To add more insult, the crowd hissed every time he came in and out of the game, and treated him like a fallen hero, even though there are dozens of NBA players who would make Kobe look like a saint. Sadly, he is considered a modern sports villain in the public's eye.

It's really amazing how different venues use different strategies to encourage crowd participation and keep them interested. The 76ers employ stupid movie clips, an overweight all-male dance troupe used to stimulate laughs from audience pity, an ice cream eating contest between six years olds, and various other tactics that just don't have too much class. Staples Center would never stoop so low.

Oh yeah, Bud Light cans go for $6.50 at Wachovia Center, the same price as a really good bottle of imported Belgian beer at Monks.

Washington D.C.

Door prizes were quite generous at this dinner party. I won a male mini pinscher! Damn it, I was really hoping for the Chili's gift certificate.

My little brother Darren has more friends than anybody I know. One of them, Vicky, was hosting a dinner party in D.C., so we treked down there via Amtrak. Score! Between the 2 of us, we had 20 or so meatballs. The steak and random cab sauv from Chile was pretty good, too.

Swank Soul Arch, First Point

Bullfighter or surfer? JP, with some points for Malibu flare.

Casino Pier

First time in 6 years that I've worn these. It took 6 minutes to take them off.

Casino Pier is a small pier in New Jersey. Contrary to what some people (who are not from the area) think, it is not in Atlantic City. This tiny pier collects a funky sand bottom that sets the stage for some pretty fun bowly peaks. Surfer Mag recently ran a 2 page spread (see below) of the pier in the Jack Johnson/Chris Malloy issue.

I was thinking to myself, while surfing here, that this place is better than any beach break in the South Bay. El Porto and Hermosa may break 365 days a year, but the quality of this wave is pretty good. But the water sure is cold. In Jersey, booties aren't a faux pas. It's cold outside, so the old wetsuit in the car while driving to and from the break is allowed here, and not laughed upon.

Road Trip!

This is the quintessential road trip picture. You're cooking bangers and onions on a portable gas grill that's not yours on somebody else's homebreak, not really caring that unridden head high machine lefts break off the point in the background. You think to yourself, "this is a pretty good surf trip."

What is so special about the surf road trip? Is it chasing swells, or arriving at the beach before they come? Surfable waves are elusive. They come and go like emotions, and they have a profound effect on us. Strange how that works.

New Zealand offers some California point wave perfection minus 250,000 surftech longboards and spring suit booty men, and L.A. pretense. Every drive is scenic. The landscape is gorgeous: a throwback to pre-industrialization and untended American blight. The surfers are friendly in NZ. They are cordial and efficient. They don't care about image, and they kill it out in the surf. We had the fortune of stumbling onto Manu Bay on the last 2 days of our trip. Surf was initially double overhead on the sets and firing off the point. After a fun evening of surf, we returned the next day, only to find a local club surf contest. The surf was still firing, and we were saddened we would have to go elsewhere. But low and behold, The Pointriders Surf Club invited us to participate in their contest, and by that night, we had more friends than we could count. We left the next morning, feeling quite satisfied. Where else in the world can you find a surf club that is sponsored by Lion Red Beer? That's me, at the contest's end, toasting a Lion Red to Ray, the winner of the men's mal division.

What goes around, comes around.

Yes, this is the world's smallest, crappiest photo, taken with the world's biggest cell phone, the Treo 600.



As I came out of my Saturday Bowl's session last week, I was surprised to see a Japanese surfer carrying an old board of mine. This little green monster is a Tyler 6'0" fish I had shaped for me back in the last century. I put it on consignment because the army green took too much heat from the sun. Also, the board has managed to send me to the hospital a couple times. I pointed out to this gentleman that my name was written quite large in posca pen under the Tyler logo, something he never noticed.

Well, my little friend, it was nice to see you- in good hands.

Ala Moana Bowls and its favorite son.

"Hey, make sure you get a picture of me with the house in the back showing! I have a buddy who does this stupid blog, and that's his place."

I don't drive...

Back in 2004, I sold this shirt to some Florida jackass on eBay for $35. It put a tank of gas in my Ford Ranger that lasted 2 weeks. Unleaded fuel is like crack cocaine that mid-size pickups just can't get enough of.

Yes, this blog is getting more poetic and less photographic. I apologize.

Being in Honolulu last week was quite frustrating, because I had to drive. My faithful truck that I bought on the Lemon Lot at Hickam AFB was sputtering and not wanting to work for me. We had been going steady for about 2 1/2 years with no real problems. But I guess she had attachment issues with me being away for so long, and since nobody had given her attention in 4+ months, let alone tried to turn the key in her ignition, refusing to start was her way of telling me how much she resented me for jilting her. I suppose the the crappy clutch pedal was another hidden message she was sending me. I'm not sure if we're going to work out in the long run, but I tried to smooth things out between us for the week I was there. She's so damn emotional, I tell you.

Since my move out here to the East Coast, I have put on a new hat. It's my non-driving hat. I'm single again! I can't tell you how liberating it is to be without a vehicular girlfriend for once! This, does, however, have a few consequences.

First, it requires that I use public transportation. Do I mind? Not really, it's good for me. I'm no better than the American sitting next to me that doesn't drive a car, or own a car for that matter. The Philadelphia subway is a rat and piss-infected labrynthe, but it is fast, semi-efficient, and somewhat edgy, since the people that ride the Broad Street Line are so damn scary. It makes me feel dangerous, and that's a cool part of city living.

Second, I have to mooch rides off people when I travel long distance. This can be somewhat embarassing to put yourself at someone's mercy, but I do offer gas money as a substitution for volunteering to drive (this is something I don't care to do). So I have many people to thank. Among them include Clay (surf and beer), Marc (surf and beer), Cary, Sharon (interstate transportation), and Cathy (to be taken advantage of in the future. You just don't know it yet). You guys are the best.

In any case, I don't waste my time doing errands in cars, nor do I sweat traffic anymore. There's no more 8:00am H-1 or 405 freeway stoppage.

In fact, a good bulk of my finances are done online, as is a good deal of my shopping (think amazon.com). Do you think I'd have time for this silly blog if I had a car? Heck no. Less time in car=more time for blogging.

Soundtrack. Soundtrack.

Recently, I've been quizzed by a few individuals as to what kind of music strikes my fancy. Well, here's a little insight.

Currently on rotation is:

B.B. King- Gold (depressing blues can flip anybody's innner lightswitch to mellow.)
Daddy G- DJ Kicks (to satisfy that weird dreadlock envy inside all of us)
Federico Aubele- Gran Hotel Buenos Aires (Tango + DJ beats = palatable audio combination)
The Ramones- any. (This is good bike riding music, it keeps your heart rate above 120)
Stan Getz- Plays, Best of the West Coast Sessions (This is quintessessential cold night music. I prefer pre-bossa nova Getz)

Yep. That's this week's picks.

The "Elbow"

When I think of the 'elbow' of a wave, I think of the part where the curl bends off, and leaves ahead of it, a ruler edge shoulder with a long, long wall. Kind of like Pam's Raglan wave.

Wandering Minds...

When I was 14 years old in Biology 101, it was kind of boring. The lighting was always really dark in the room. The kid next to me used to doodle and draw naked pictures of ladies, thinking I didn't notice. Now I'm 28, sitting in a dark room listening to a lecture, and I draw fantasy pictures of surfboards.


Went to Besthesda, Maryland for the past few days for the Pennick Endo Study Club. It was a real classy event with a lot of smart people. I Learned some interesting things, and washed down a Katsu Don with some Kirins in Washington DC for dinner.

A sunset I haven't seen in a while.

The sun sets on Ala Moana- something I've taken for granted. It's good to be back.


I was back in town 10/21-10/29 and it was nice to see everybody again, and surf with the old crew.

Ed put a ding in his new Model-T when we went out for a session about an hour after I got in. The Fongs, Pam and Tim were ripping, too. I was just stoked to ride a longboard with my friends for the first time in 4 months. We got Bowls on a Saturday all to ourselves with chest high sets. Alas, it had to end. I'll see everyone again in December.