SURFIN' SAFARI SUMMER TWO - DAY FIFTEEN - August 11, 2020
Someone came to stay with Anna for a few hours on Saturday and, tired of driving 40 miles for Lake Michigan-type waves, I lowered my ante and decamped 25 minutes out to Marina del Rey (aka, Home Court).
The town is still quiet. What could open, has. It is comparable to a 1930s economy sluicing about an outsized, 21st-century urban template. A whole lot of businesses just sitting there, already decaying.
I’ve been a little frustrated where surfing is concerned, but with no cafes, museums, theaters and other stuff we’ve been paying premium rents to be around, there’s nothing else to do.
Confederate statues falling… surfing the "only thing to do." Sometimes I feel like Rip Van Winkle with what’s going on. I didn’t participate in "Occupy" and perhaps lost the pulse of things. I just never saw all of this coming.
In any case, the Surfing Gods, or the Ghost of Duke Kahanamoku,* heard my Day 14 bitch-whining about there never being any waves and splashed things around just enough to shut me up.
Approaching water’s edge to see what was on tap, I got the same feeling as when I think I’m “popping in” to CVS for dental floss, on my way elsewhere, only to confront a line of surly looking, socially distanced, masked people.
The town is still quiet. What could open, has. It is comparable to a 1930s economy sluicing about an outsized, 21st-century urban template. A whole lot of businesses just sitting there, already decaying.
I’ve been a little frustrated where surfing is concerned, but with no cafes, museums, theaters and other stuff we’ve been paying premium rents to be around, there’s nothing else to do.
Confederate statues falling… surfing the "only thing to do." Sometimes I feel like Rip Van Winkle with what’s going on. I didn’t participate in "Occupy" and perhaps lost the pulse of things. I just never saw all of this coming.
In any case, the Surfing Gods, or the Ghost of Duke Kahanamoku,* heard my Day 14 bitch-whining about there never being any waves and splashed things around just enough to shut me up.
Approaching water’s edge to see what was on tap, I got the same feeling as when I think I’m “popping in” to CVS for dental floss, on my way elsewhere, only to confront a line of surly looking, socially distanced, masked people.
My psychology is now adapted to what looks like a long period of limited expectations for the good old U.S. of A. The damage is done, and it's real...
...There was slop out there on the water, and I was okay with it. I metaphorically masked-up and assumed my X-marked spot in line and, dammit, I liked it (because I needed to like it).
That makes fifteen beats to the beach this summer. Throw in four, pre-lockdown efforts and the year-to-date total is 19.
My mother says that when men hit their sixties they don’t want to do anything anymore. I think with this summer's effort I’ve proven immune to the affliction, at least in year one.
I’m going to credit any further safaris this year, to the next, and then once more, so that in the third year of my sixties, which is when you really feel the new, next decade, I’ll be able to slack off and still claim to have been "active."
Happy Summer everyone, I appreciate your following our story.
*Duke Kahanamoku was an all-around beach guy who brought the Gospel of Surfing from his Native Hawaii to California back in the early 20th Century and made it stick.
...There was slop out there on the water, and I was okay with it. I metaphorically masked-up and assumed my X-marked spot in line and, dammit, I liked it (because I needed to like it).
That makes fifteen beats to the beach this summer. Throw in four, pre-lockdown efforts and the year-to-date total is 19.
My mother says that when men hit their sixties they don’t want to do anything anymore. I think with this summer's effort I’ve proven immune to the affliction, at least in year one.
I’m going to credit any further safaris this year, to the next, and then once more, so that in the third year of my sixties, which is when you really feel the new, next decade, I’ll be able to slack off and still claim to have been "active."
Happy Summer everyone, I appreciate your following our story.
*Duke Kahanamoku was an all-around beach guy who brought the Gospel of Surfing from his Native Hawaii to California back in the early 20th Century and made it stick.
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