Archive for March, 2012

This week’s UCB, well ok, more like this month’s makes of winner of Mauriello.  I know I have been slacking on the whole thing but I mean seriously the only participants at the moment are Kooky and Mauriello and I am fucking busy as shit between working, drinking and surfing.  If you want more UCBs then suggest more.  Also March is over on Saturday but I will honor any Power of Ten list that gets posted before 12am on April 1st and post it on Monday April 2nd.  Remember them things be worth 2 points and are with out a doubt some of the best blogs here for pure entertainment value.  John asked I write a blog about mothers and for whatever reason I feel sentimental at the moment so why the fuck  not.

First off John and I are both Italian and being brought up by Italian mothers were well raised(I know its hard to believe, but I do have manners and in most cases would consider myself a gentleman).  For my up bringing I thank my mother’s painstaking efforts to keep me a decent member of society.  In Italy there is a saying that roughly translates to “Italian men love their mothers first and foremost before any other woman in the world”.  To this day I have yet to meet a woman who has stacked up to my mother and certainly am not looking for that anyway.

I love my mother.  She gave me life .  It blows my mind that any female would want go through the entire pregnancy process to bring into the world a most likely ungrateful let down of an offspring.  I think maybe a let down is being a bit hard on myself.  These days I think, well I hope my mother can find a little pride in me.  I don’t blame her I definitely squandered a lot of opportunities, blew other ones, wasted various skill/talent/intelligence.  Hey we only go around once and she should have known from the get go that I was to beat to my own drum and it was not about to sound like the norm.

Despite the love I have for my mom there is also not a person on this planet that knows how to push  my buttons like she does.  Left in the same room with no escape from one another I am sure the two of us would tear each other to pieces.  If not physically then for sure emotionally and mentally.  Maybe that is why we have such a great relationship these days her and I because I live nearly 3,000 miles away and in a different time zone.   I think that separation allows  us to miss one another enough that when we converse and get together we over look the little stupidities we used to fight over and focus on making the most of the minimal amount of time we have allotted to spend together.

I have to honestly say I really do miss my mother.  For my entire life up until I moved out here to Santa Barbara I lived no further then a few miles from her door for more then a few months.  To be perfectly honest she is the closest friend I have ever known.  I am a very independent person and thinker.  As a result I have trouble getting along with others whom I may not understand, which encompasses 98% of the human race.  I don’t have an Oedipus complex so get your filthy minds out of the gutter for once.  Don’t worry I am sure there will be a dirty perverted blog to come at some point soon.

As a kid it was rather tough for me to make any friends because I did not know how to understand or control the level of aggravation playing with most other children gave me.  I would lash out ultimately causing problems and in some cases bodily harm to play mates.  I once hit a kid across the face with a toy truck and he had to get like eight stitches or something absurd like that.   It was not long before other children did not want to associate themselves with me and in the process caused my poor mother to be isolated as well, being no other mothers her age would spend time with her because of fear of my bad influence on their own children.   My mom became my friend and I hers.

I picked up a ton of great skills from the whole ordeal.  She was a math teacher and as an educator instilled the ideals in me how important it was to be an intelligent person.  I learned how to keep a clean house, dress, shop ( I can find a bargain on anything) cook, basic sewing.  You know how there are guys who can’t do shit for themselves and always have to rely on either there mother or girl friend to handle their domestic shit.  In most of my previous relationships I was the one handling my woman’s shit.  To this day I don’t leave my house with out my bed being made and the overall impression that I live in a neat and orderly home.  This way if you have an unexpected guest or a thief breaks in at least that person will respect your ability to have pride that you live in a decent home.

I tell my mother everything and always have.  I have little if any secrets from her.  I mean I have shared everything to fights I got into at school, to my first sexual experience to my current drinking problem.  There is no point in trying to hide anything from her anyway.  I mean when I lived close and saw her she could tell right by my demeanor if something was bothering me.  These days she can tell just by how my voice sounds over the phone.   Its uncanny actually.

For example I called my mother Wednesday, I call her every week and have whenever I have been away from her as long as I have breathed air.  I was telling her what a fun time I had out at the bar Sunday night and she immediately replied “oh, that means you blacked out and don’t remember most of the details”.  I was stunned for a second.  She knows her son.  At the moment she does not judge me, I hope.  She knows there are times in my life where I need the distraction in order to transition into a new phase.  At the moment I have been in a year long transitional period.  Things are getting better.

There was a time when I used to hate her.  I blamed her for all of my problems in life.  Its human nature to blame everyone and everything else but yourself in times of adversity.  Once I stopped playing the blame game and realized that my life is whatever I make it to be therefore can only be blamed on my own personal decisions and actions I gave up being angry at her.  There was a period when I stopped calling her or going over her house out of absolute spite.  Family vendettas are a terrible thing and unfortunately being Italian I have witnessed too many.  Life is too short to cut someone off cause of a disagreement over most likely stupidity.  This whole life, whatever it is, is rather stupid when you come to think about it.

I know it makes me laugh.  I love my mother and I thank her for everything she has ever done for me and will do for me.  Sure some of her parenting methods may have been a bit abstract at times, but if it was not for her I would not be the man I am today.  Mom’s don’t really get a lesson on how to be a good mom.  They just do what they think is right for their children and mine did the best she could.  I hope yours did too.

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Last we checked in with Kooky Kyle he was in Raglan working and being encompassed in a flat spell.  Here is an update from the man himself.

 Hey everyone, I am not dead. Today is my final full day in Raglan, I am hiring a car tomorrow and cruising to Taranaki. The forecast is looking good so I should be getting some fun waves. Last you heard from me I was at Solscape Wwofing and sitting in a flat spell. I made myself surf the beach break pretty much every day until the flatness ended. I can tell you from personal experience the beachie he is talking about is a pretty terrible wave. 

What ended the flat spell? A head a half+ west swell lighting up all three points. The first day was wild and wooly, I surfed and Manu and spent more time paddling than I should have. I surfed a day like what he is describing out there.  It was easily double overhead and stormy as all hell.  I actually got some real bombs that day and got respect for the rest of my time there from all the locals because of it.  The second day saw the swell hit in force with big disorganized surf pouring into all three points. I surfed Whale Bay in the morning because I wasn’t up for spending my whole session paddling through the washing machine that was Indicators.

I surfed Manu Bay in the afternoon and got some workings on the Ledge.   The ledge is the heavy ass section at the top of Manu that is only really make-able when it is huge and even then it is a crap shoot.  I don’t know how Chris deals with surfing over boils on his back hand I just got my ass kicked. Mitch Coleborn was out and that guy along with some other Raglan pros were tearing the place a new asshole. Getting out I heard one of the Raglan guys say “It isn’t the best Manu, but it is the best we have had in a month.” The swell finally cleaned up on the third day and I mistakenly grabed my 5’10” thinking that the swell had dropped enough.

WRONG. Indies was still head and a half plus, offshore and crowded. I had no problem catching waves on the 5’10” but getting them off of the crowd and the drops was another story, and the short of it is I got three waves and got my ass worked for two and a half hours. By the afternoon the swell had actually dropped and I got some great waves and surfed really well considering my kooky ass. My ride had ditched me and taken my clothes back to Solscape with him, leaving me walking barefoot on some unkind twisting turning roads. It is all good though he had work to get to and the surf was worth it. This morning the swell had nearly dried up but i surfed indies again and had another great session trading off on waves with this older kiwi.

With the topic of waves out of the way, I really enjoyed my time here. Once it was discovered that I was more useful doing gardening/landscape/outdoor work, I have to say I didn’t mind working here at all and it stirred memories on working in my garden at my parent’s Maryland house. If you ever come to NZ and want to visit Raglan definitely check out Solscape. They treated Chris right and they have treated me well too. One black mark has happened here, last night there was a rash of small thefts, a wallet, Sarah’s cellphone, a set of iPod speakers were all stolen, we are all pretty sure who did it but there isn’t anyway to prove it. In a place where all the people are friendly and know each other this kind of stuff doesn’t happen but when a thief gets in, it is a field day.

Anyways, I will keep you posted when I can I am not sure what the situation will be like over the next weeks but I will try and keep in touch.—–Kooky Kyle

Manu Bay, Raglan New Zealand, firing.

Taranaki secret spot, Kooky's next destination...

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April 2011 Surf Sessions in Review

Bare with me here, I know these stats happened nearly a year ago, but I just found out while trying to compile some yearly stats that I still need to write up the stats for a few months that went by the wayside back then for obvious reasons ( you can read “Bowing Out” if your new here and missed a major incident in my life).  April is always a rough month for surfing in the 805, plagued by constant winds, transition between NW and South swell seasons and extremely cold water.   Throw in a full time job, school and a falling apart relationship and it became one of the toughest months to surf of my entire life, let alone live.  Hey here I am still kicking.  I am not sure why I am still alive, but mainly I feel my survival these days is based purely on spite.   I am not quite sure whom it is I am spiting by staying alive, but I am sure there is someone out there who may benefit from my death and for the chance just to spite that person I will fight to live no matter what.  Survival for spite that is the new campaign for 2012, forget anything else I have mention previously.  Here are the stats for April 2011.

Number of Surf Sessions: 21
Days Surfed: 21

Total Time Spent In Water: 33hrs 45mins
Total Number of Waves Surfed: 636
Average Waves Caught Per Hour: 19

Spots Surfed:
Mesa Lane: 9
Rincon: 6
Emma Wood: 3
El Capitan: 1
Hammonds: 1
New Jetty: 1

Top 3 Sessions:

3.  4/1/11 Am Session: 2-4+ft, Emma Wood
Time in Water: 1.5 hrs
Waves surfed: 25
Talk about a double up barrel fiesta out there this morning and I was not even going to go surf when I woke up this am.  The weather was so nice and since I had got a lot of work done at J7 yesterday and an alarming potential for south winds in the afternoon led me to Emma Wood.  When I pulled up it was solid chest high with overhead suck up sets.  I saw a three wave set A-frame and barrel hard both left and right with only about six guys out.  I was on it and at least ten of my waves were solid dry barrels.  Then after about 45 minutes everyone showed up making it a bit crowded, but there were like six peaks working all going both right and left making for plenty of room.  If I did not have to get dings done at J7 today I would have stayed out till the tide drained.  Im so glad Emma has finally got her groove back!

2. 4/7/11 PM Session: 1-3+ft, El Capitan
Time In Water: 3 hrs 15mins
Waves Surfed: 49
On my walk to class this morning I noticed that Lead Better had some solid chest high waves hitting the beach break and even larger sets on the point.  I got home and checked the buoys and East Santa Barbara was reading 7ft  and the wind was hard WNW, off shore for El Cap.  Still I was thinking about Rincon when my boy from work Kevin called me and was all physicked on surfing in the avro.  With a partner in crime I said lets go to El Capitan and it was on.  We got there around 4ish and it was pretty small looking.  There were only about four guys on it and occasionally a chest high wave would roll in.  Anyway there were plenty of fun looking waist high ones coming through.  Thing about El Capitan is that it is a perfect wave no matter the size so even small it was still rather inviting.  We ended up having a blast.  I dont think I have ever gotten that many waves there ever.  Renowned surf board shaper Wayne Rich paddled out with these two mini-groms and two friends of his and he paddled right up to me, introduced himself and said “Hi my name is Wayne you are too good of a surfer to grovel this hard with all the hopping around, but just so you know I am really impressed by your surfing ability”. I was like are you serious, Wayne Rich a man who has seen so many greats surf was stoked on my surfing.  He ended up getting a bunch of good ones and everyone out there was just hooting a hollering; a completely different vibe then the last time I surfed out there with Kooky.  The waves were twice as good that time but the crowd was super heavy and people were all aggro.  See March ’11 of the surf log 3/17/11 entry for more details on that session.   All I can say was that it was a most splendid day of surfing.

1. 4/2/11 PM Session: 2-3+ft, Rincon
Time In Water: 1.5 hrs
Waves Surfed: 15
Sometimes I surf really well.  I think everyone has those sessions where they feel like god out there.  I dont care what skill level your at, when you have a session where you surf to the highest potential of your personal ability it feels incredible.  I had one of these sessions at Rincon tonight.  The funny thing about it was that going into the surf I was feeling rather lackadaisical.  I had just finished repairing my favorite board which got destroyed at some epic Rincon two weeks back  (see “Bad Decisions Lead to Great Out Comes” and“Yesterday’s (3/24) Rincon Session Revisited” for the skinny on what happened there).   Jason and I pulled the tail in about an 1/8 inch from my regular template and it has really turned my performance up a notch.  I love computer design programs.  It is so easy to make those minute details come out perfect.  I think the combination of a good board, fun chest high plus glassy bowls and a light crowd aided in a fun session.  I surfed the entire point spending the first half up at River Mouth were I snagged a nice little backside tube and stuck a solid backside section air.  The next half I spent in the cove absolutely owning it. By my 15th wave I was completely exhausted.  Besides the wind got on it a bit, the crowd picked up and the tide began to make things a bit swampy.  Timing is everything in life.

Me at Rincon Circa Spring 2011. Life may not have been working out for me back then but at least I still had surfing.

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Tonight I am going to cover a subject that means quite a lot to me.  I am Italian and from New York thus I have a very deep rooted attachment to clothes and looking my best in them.  I see way to many people in today’s society discounting the role being well dressed plays in life.  What you wear is a direct reflection of you and you should be proud of every aspect of how you put yourself together.

I am going to share a small rant story.  I am at work finally at the end of my peak dinner rush.  Keep in mind that tonight I had both a catering event to help with and my own meal over at the Mexican restaurant.  I know, an Italian chef running a Mexican restaurant sounds a bit preposterous.  Then again so has been my entire life.  I get to sit down on a milk crate behind to kitchen and check my phone to see if any ladies are chomping at the bit to see me tonight.

As usual nothing of the kind, such is life.  I don’t blame them I guess.  I mean I was way more attractive when I was a failing professional surfer working at a gas station who barely had a pot to piss in.  I really don’t get that expression.  I mean if your poor there is always something to piss in and who pees in a pot anyway.  I would just take a piss in the bushes or behind a dumpster or something.  That is technically my guest bathroom at the palace.  Actually the pharse dates back to colonial times when there was not plumbing.  People had these little pot type things that they would do their business in at night and then dump them out in the morning.  Hence the phrase “pot to piss in”.  I love useless knowledge, don’t you.  We all know Kooky Kyle does.  He is like the fucking encyclopedia of that type of shit.

Where was I?  Oh, the text.  My new roommate whom has barely lived in my place for three weeks texts me “I borrowed your pea coat….bla bla”.  This particular coat is my favorite to wear when I dress up.  It is not cheap, although I got it for a deal and since I walk about a mile and half down town it is key to looking my best on said walk.  If I feel styling and put together on my way to the club it translates down to my demeanor in the club as well.

Dude takes the coat with out my permission and in my book that is very disrespectful.   Shoots if he asked I most likely would have lent it to him anyway.  More then one person has benefited from my extensive wardrobe.  I was at first furious.  It took some deep breathing and meditation to calm myself down.  Then I thought about it further.  Dan is a Californian and mostly besides LA and San Francisco the whole lot of them do not really know how to dress.  I mean the guy is always in khaki’s and shades of blue color button downs when I see him.  He looks like he should be on the Banana Republic catalog or something to that effect.

Realizing this I figured he just may not have understood just how much clothing means to fashion oriented people.  As a result did not fully understand the severity of the offense he was committing.  Shit maybe he got excited when he saw just how flashing my wardrobe is and was overwhelmed becoming light headed and not thinking “hey I should probably ask Chris before taking a jacket this sleek”.  Could have been worse.  He could have grabbed my custom made Armani suit or dabbled in my shoes.

I will reiterate, I am Italian.  Where do you think most fashion originates from?  That’s right Italy.  There is not any Milan in California. Sorry folks.  In the US the hub of high fashion is New York City.  Now I am not saying I am the most stylish person out there, but to be honest the only thing that keeps me from being just that is budget.  If I had rapper money believe me my wardrobe would be out of this world.  Heck I might just throw an outfit away after I wore it so that I would never have to be in re-runs.  I am also a bit insane.

Ever since I was a child having decent clothing was instilled into me by my parents.  My dad always wore nice shoes and explained a good pair of shoes said a lot about a man’s character.   When I made my first communion my mother had my suit custom tailored for me.  It took two days of measurements cause I was so hyperactive and I hated her for it.  I will tell you this I was one of the best dressed kids at that service.  At my conformation my sponsor and I coordinated purple suits,but in a classy way, not too guido.  When I go shopping for clothing it can take hours.  My friends have stopped going with me for that reason.  I think my mother is one of the few people I can shop with.  Italian men and their mothers is a topic I am not about to cover in this blog.

Now I need to mention that I am not saying that a well dressed person can’t be a creep.  What I am trying to say is that how you present yourself shows how you want to be perceived.  If I go out in stained clothing and torn up shoes it mainly says I do not give a fuck.  When you look put together people look at you with a sort of admiration.  “That guy has it going on”.  Most people say I over dress and I always reply, no you just under dress.  If we all went around naked it would not matter, but since that has yet to come to pass, and I admit I would be the first to jump on the all nude all the time band wagon.  It may not go to well with my current profession and the sanitation code, but in general I would have no problem giving up on clothing all together.

Even at work I try and keep a style about  me.  My chef coats are of an angled cut at the neck which suits my body type.  I picked a hat that enhances my out fit and I always, always wear pleated pants.  You may be reading this right now and be thinking “man this guys is one of the most vain people I have ever listened to ramble on about bull shit”.  In my opinion its not vanity my friends, but self respect and respect for others around me.

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Where has Kooky Kyle been?  What has that crazy guy with the giant red clown fro been doing since his departure from Lisanti Land?  These are all very good questions.  Yet I am not the one the answer them.  Finally after nearly two weeks of incommunicado Kooky hit me up with a short  but sweet Kooky’s Korner.  I will not ramble on anymore cause you have that inflicted upon you here a bit too much. ..Chris

It is bizarre some trips it doesn’t set in that you are leaving until you are actually leaving. That was certainly the case here. I might have said I knew I was leaving before I left but only upon finding myself on the bus to LAX did the actual excitement set in.  The airplane ride was boring, but what does one expect of a 12 hours in an aluminum tube? (I guess Kooky did not take full advantage of the open bar.  Shit every time I fly overseas I am hammered on the plane.  Last time I went to New Zealand the flight attendant cut me off cause as she put it my drunken antics were causing distress to the other passengers.  Then I passed out in the airport at Fiji and nearly missed my connecting flight, which I would have missed had it not been the only flight leaving and their port authority would not let the plane take off unless the entire roster was accounted for.  Needless to say I ended up delaying the flight by about a half hour…Chris)I was in and out of Auckland and I really lucked into my room at the hostle, as it was the last one available. Same thing happened at Solscape this hostel in Raglan on the middle of the west coast of the north island, not to mention one of the best surf spots in the entire country.

 I slept off my jet lag on Saturday and surfed on that Sunday and Monday.  Chris’ friend Sara from back in New Jersey now currently chilling in New Zealand, Sara hooked me up with a WOFer positon. I work for two and a half hours around the resort and I get free room. It is really stretching my money. All things considered at the moment I plan on staying in Raglan until about the 25th of March and then depending on the swell forecast I might travel.  I have a few different possible hook ups, two in Taranaki, and a spot in Christchurch and Hawkesbay. So my plans are really wide open.

 Dave Rastovich was here all last week and Tom Curren played a gig in town as well.  The surf spots here are pretty good. Whale bay isn’t  a great wave, but Indicators and Manu Bay are world class.  The beach is a cross between wrightsville beach and a doubled up closeout. I made it up to Rapuke , another beach break a with a ton more exposure to swell just above Raglan, once. Ironically I ran into a  group of guys from NJ, but the tide was too drained out and it was a massive closeout.  Looks like there is a little flat spell coming with mid day low tides so hopefully I can get in up at Repuke.
 This is really all I have time for as I pay by the minute for it…Till next time Kooky Kyle.
Well there you have it folks the thrilling adventures of Kooky Kyle thus far.  Stay tuned for the final installment of my Spring Break 2012 series and this week’s  UCB.  Dont forget to submit your power of ten lists for March.  They are good for  two points.  

A look at two of the spots Kooky has been surfing. Indicators is the far point and Whale Bay is in the foreground.


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Well on day one Lisanti went into the Wild.  On day 3 Chris Lisanti got fucking wild at the Wild Cat.  Its only fitting that I started Day there at the Kitty.  Last night, gay night was especially gay.  I am pretty sure with the exception of my friends Mark, Adrienne (not my ex-Adrienne) and maybe a handful of other people everyone was playing for the other team.   At first I was taking things in strides. I was a little bummed about how the weekend played out getting blown off by that chick I mentioned in both the surflog and yesterday’s blog “Busy Bee, Spring Break Day 2“.

I was determined not to let the instance turn me to depression drinking.  Then boredom kicked in and around 1am with no real prospects cruising around the club Wild Cat Adrienne said “Get a shot with me”.  I am on spring break after all and have not really gotten hammered in a long time.  I’m lying I got hammered on Friday night with this UCSB graduate school chick I met.  I thought I might be able to pull her, but then she was kidnapped by her friends in the last minutes of last call and taken home to Goleta.  Goleta chicks are near impossible to bring home and visa versa.

Its a solid $30-50 cab ride, pain in the ass bus ride or long, long walk (trust me I walked it once) home for both parties.  Rule of thumb downtown: if she wants me to come home with her and it is back to Goleta I pass and when I try to bring them home to the Mesa it is usually the same effect.  Its just too far, thus the best one can hope for is digits and shoot for a follow up date.  I got her number, now I just have to decide if she was worth giving a call.

Man that got off track.  Anyway, Adrienne and I got a round of Fire Ball Shots (whiskey).  Now I don’t drink whiskey because for whatever reason whenever I do it brings out the worst drunk I can possibly be.  I get angry, emotional,  and crazy in a scary way.  Everyone who parties knows there is no such thing as doing one round of shots no matter how drunk you are.  They are addictive.  There is something about the bartender pouring your choice of poison into those little glasses and the looks on your face and those around you.  Everyone knows that you are on a one way ticket to being out of your mind.

Yeah, one round led to three, the last one taken at last call.  That my friends is the last thing I remember.  What happened after that is beyond my reasoning.  I went to black out town, population me.   This time there was no Kooky to help me put the pieces together.  Somehow I managed to get my jacket from coat check and sign out my tab.  I also managed to walk home, but barely I think.

Fast forward to 9:30am.  I woke up on the floor of my apartment directly adjacent to my front door to a text from Lindsay about if I wanted to surf or not.  I was fully dressed, jacket, shoes and all.  My pants were torn at the knee and the hip and I had a few bruises on my body.  I assume I must have fell down a few times on the walk home, but that is speculation, anything could have happened for that matter.  I checked my outbox/inbox of my phone to see if I sent or was received anything.  Apparently I sent Wild Cat Adrienne a very incoherent angry message, which I apologized for and she was cool with.  That was the only lead I had and she had no recollection of anything after that last shot either.

Whatever, I am still alive.  Since I was up I got changed and decided to go for a surf and it was a good thing I did cause Rincon was breaking.  It was tiny, waist with the occasion chest high set through the Cove, but it was flawless.  I mean oil glass and running down the Cove perfectly.  Some how despite being a bit messed up still I surfed exceptional.  I am talking a top notch backside performance anyone would be proud of.  The crowd was myself and about ten other people.  I was super stoked for the session.

From there I had just enough time to scarf down another bowl of cereal and run to class or nap time as I like to call it.  Unfortunately we had to do group activities in class cutting into my sleepy time.  It was fun and I found out about this cool jazz show that went down tonight of which I have just got back from.  On another note before I get into the show I think this will be the last semester I am going to spend in the Culinary program at Santa Barbara City College.  The program is very unimpressive to me and I just feel that I am wasting my time.

Instead if you remember back to a few blogs ago I mentioned something about how I really wanted to go cook in Italy.  That is exactly what I am going to do.   There are a few different culinary schools out there that offer intensive three month programs where I can earn a master chef certificate in Italian and European Cuisine, a stage 2 sommelier certification and a pastry and baking certificate.  Basically I will do in three months what will take me at my current rate years if ever at City College.  The last five weeks of the program I am required to cook in different restaurants all over Italy.

Who knows maybe I will even meet a nice Italian girl and bring her back with me to America.  There will be more on this in blogs to come as I figure the whole thing out.  It is about time I do something positive for me for a change.  I think a break from both the Wild Cat and Santa Barbara may be good for my health.

Back to the jazz show.  This girl in my group mentioned she was going to a jazz show at Soho, my all time favorite venue to listen to live entertainment at in Santa Barbara.  I took the stage there once myself and all I can say is that it was one of the best sound stages I have ever performed on (check out the blog “About Last Night” for more on that performance).  I asked her about the event and it turns out it was at 7:30 that evening.

I cruised and my buddy was working the door so I got in for free.  Turns out all the cats were local and they burned.   The majority of the cats on stage were so hot they had me hooting and hollering the entire time.   As it turns out they do these “Jazz Jams” as they call them every few weeks at Soho and anyone is invited to play.  The next one is April 2nd and I will guarantee that they will be joined by jazz saxophonist, Chris Lisanti.  I can’t wait to get up and blow with those guys.

I am even more stoked that it is a fairly regular thing.  Hopefully they like my stuff and invite me back to play on other occasions.  I guess I am going to have to do some heavy woodshedding over the next two weeks.  They had another saxophonist with them and he was exceptional, but in a completely different style then I play.  the group was ironically very “West Coast Cool”, where as I am definitely “Harlem Eclectic”.  West Coast Cool is a style of jazz that is more lay back and relaxed such as Wes Mongomery or Bill Evans.  Harlem Eclectic is more in your face hyper active like Sonny Rollins or John Coltrane.

That brings me to right now sitting here on my couch under my leopard blanket putting the finishing touches on this piece while Alfie lounges in felicity on my lap.  Goodnight everyone and stay tuned tomorrow for more Spring Break action.

I am sure I can find a bar just as gnarly as the Shitty Kitty in Italia.

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This is going to be short and sweet cause I really did not do anything all that exciting today.  Don’t fret I still have five more action packed days.   One thing I can say is that I actually surfed today.  I think it is the first time since like the 2nd. You can read the surflog to find out about that terrible surf.  A terrible surf is still better then no surf at all in my book.   You know what I actually surfed pretty good too and it always feels good when you surf good.

I got home, scarfed a bowl of cereal, Rice Chex with half a banana chopped up in it, ate the other half by itself.  It may sound bizarre to be so stoked on cereal but it really is one of my favorite things to eat.  I am like Jerry Seinfeld in that respect.  I once lived off cereal for all my meals back in my contest days.  I have this special bowl, I think everyone has that special bowl when it comes to eating cereal.  You know what I am talking about.  The one bowl that is the perfect portion for yours truly that fits just the right amount of milk and cereal filling right to the brim but not quite over flowing when you put the spoon in.  C’mon who ever pours themselves a half bowl of cereal?

I have this bowl that does not match any of my other dish ware.  I found it in the trash actually when I first moved here.  Adrienne tried to throw it out on me.  I have considered getting rid of it.  Heroin Nick bogarted it in his room for a few weeks.  Yet the bowl prevails now five years after I initially found it.   Its my holy grail for cereal and since it is correlle I am sure to have it for years to come.  If it breaks I may have to give up eating cereal for the process to find a new perfect bowl would be too tremendous a task.

While eating my breakfast I did my usual internet time, Surfline, FaceBook, email, Craigslist, SurfingRuinedMyLife.net, looked at a little porn.  I covered all aspects of the internet I enjoy.  From there it was house cleaning time.   Believe me my place had become quite the sty.  I decided to attack my stove top which thanks to last week’s dinner and drunken cooking had become rather gross.  I spent a solid hour on it, but now it is squeaky clean.   Cleanliness really is next to godliness.

I took a brief break from cleaning to go prune my garden.  I have been stressed the last few days from this girl whom I thought might be interested in me, but ended up shining me, blowing me off all weekend.  The least she could do is have some decency and say she did  not want to chill instead of leaving me hanging.  That is the last time I try and do something romantic for a while. I was never a flower giving guy.  In the last few years I have taken to giving flowers and each time it has just blown up in my face. I think I am going back to being a no flower guy again.

After a brief time in my garden I felt better.  There is something about plants that is so relaxing to me.  You take care of them, show them love and they bloom beautiful flowers, grow big and healthy and are aesthetically pleasing.  Their way of saying thank you for taking care of me.  If only human beings were the same way.  I am not to far off to going  into the woods some where completely recluse, Sir Gaiwan style.  That is a completely different blog altogether.

Then I went back to cleaning, where I tackled the rest of the kitchen, the bathroom which by the way was disgusting, then I Murphy oiled the new floors, polished my samurai sword, too much stabbing, finally I vacuumed the rugs and called it a day.  There is nothing like reveling in a freshly cleaned apartment.  Then I enjoyed meal three of left over vegetable lasagna from the last dinner I cooked at work on Friday night.   It came out amazing so why not.  I think it can furnish me another two meals.  Fuck if I am going to cook for a few days.  I am going to do another dinner on Thursday.  Those invitations will go out tomorrow.  If you don’t get an invite and are in Santa Barbara and care to join us feel free to hit me up here and I will invite you.  The more the merrier as far as I am concerned.

Now I am drinking a nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand, listening to Drake.  I downloaded like every song he ever did or was featured on the other day and am now weeding through it all.  The guy shreds, but 200 songs is a lot to go through.  I am on number 85.  Pretty soon I am going to put on this new black on pink pinstripe pants I scored at a thrift store with the tags still on it for seven bucks while the actual store tag read $120, complemented by my nice black loafers and this poked doted black on black long sleeve button down I also scored for like 12 bucks.  I love thrift stores, did I mention the shirt is Armani.  I think some idiot at the store did not bother to look at the label.  Where am I headed flashing like this on a Sunday night.  Well the Wild Cat of course.

There she is my beloved cereal bowl filled with my favorite brand of cereal. Guess what my favorite cereal to eat is for 2 extra UCB points. Put your answer in the comments.

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I came to an elevated realization today.  As much as I love my job what I really love is not working at all.  I always meet people who claim to love work and that they would not know what to do with themselves if they did not have a job.  My response has always been “are you nuts what wouldn’t you do if you did not have to be some place for upwards of forty hours a week”.  Do realize that I spend the bulk of my time inside of the Westmont College kitchen.

Don’t get me wrong I really do love my job, but I love having free time more then anything.  There is an upside to working for a college, SPRING BREAK!!!!!:) Yep that’s right at thirty one years old I still get to enjoy spring break and it is amazing my friends.  For the next six days I don’t have to work.  Sure I don’t get paid for it, but what is money anyway but a giant inconvenience in this life.  It has certainly inconvenienced my life more times then I would like to remember.

This is the most time off I have had since December.  I know all of you work-aholic busy people out there are probaly thinking “so what I never get any time off”.  Remember I was once a professional surfer followed by a professional slacker at one time.  Translation: I got to enjoy a ton of quality free time.  Over the years I had become accustomed to such.  I learned to appreciate the art of nothingness.  It is perfectly ok to spend two hours watching a flock of seagulls fight with a flock of crows over a trash can.  When you have no commitments or obligations you learn really fast how to enjoy all of life’s stupidities.

I have spent entire days of accumulated hours of my life picking flowers, collecting sea glass, enjoying beach walks, sunsets, full moons, star gazing, stacking rocks and adventuring.  I would not consider any minute of any of it a waste of time.  On the contrary I think being cooped up in the work place for the bulk of my life so some rich asshole gets richer, while I am constantly under paid and under appreciated a waste of my time.  Unfortunately to exist in our society I am forced to conform.  These days I feel I have conformed to a point where I hardly recognize myself.  I cut my hair.  This is old news but my latest hair cut has me looking the way I should have for all those good jobs I turned down in the past because my hair was too long.

What happened to me?  When did I become like everybody else?  That is not entirely true. I am still far from that.  As long as Lisanti Land is going strong I will never be like everybody else.  What am I ranting about.  Nothing actually.  The point is for the next six days I don’t have to work and that means I am going to live every minute of it to its fullest and will chronicle it here at surfingruinedmylife.net.

Day 1 – The Hike

Last night I went out and got shit faced at the Wild Cat.  I do not need spring break to do that.  Its a rather regular occurrence.  The beauty of spring break is that I got to sleep in till noon today minus being woken up by both my father and Lindsay.  It was fine since both their business was pertinent.  My dad finished doing my taxes and using his magic somehow managed to get me a fatty refund.  Can you say new bedroom set, cause I can!  Then Lindsay as a result of some friendly prodding from yours truly broke up with her boy friend and needed to get out of the house.

Don’t think less of me.  The guy was not treating her right and needs a wake up call.   She is too good for that type of bullshit.  She is like a younger sister to me and I definitely was not going to sit by and watch what was happening and not get involved.  She deserves better.

She got me through my Ades bull shit so I am now going to be there for her.  I was going to go do something cool today anyway.  If it was not for her waking me up I may have just slept the entire day.  Maybe I should not buy a new bed.  Mine is already too comfortable.  If I step up to a queen size forget it I may never come out from under the covers.  Sleep has become one of my new favorite activities for whatever reason.

The plan was to hike Gaviota Peak, but then we futzed around her house with her dog for too long causing us to get a late start.  We set out for the Cold Springs trail in Montecito instead.  I have hiked the many different trails that are in this region a number of times but have never made it to the actual top.  Lindsay wanted to go on a gnarly hike as she put it. We took the expert trail where the entire time you are pretty much climbing at a 15% to 30% grade.  It is the fastest way to the top.

It was a rather invigorating hike.  We did not quite make it to the top but we did manage to get as close as I have ever gotten.  It was getting late and the idea of getting stuck on the trail in the dark did not sit well with either of us.  We did however make it to these two eucalyptus trees that were protruding.  off the edge of the peak.  I always forget how amazing the world around us is till I get some time to actually stop and take it all in.  From up there I looked over the town, all the point breaks I regularly surf, the rich assholes and their million dollar estates and even my own shitty apartment that we have lovingly come to know as the Lisanti Palace and I realized no matter what our status is in this life we are all in it together existing the best we can.

That is all one can ask for out of life, do the best he can.  I don’t know if this is the best I can do at the moment but I do know I am getting close.  Its funny cause a year ago to this date I was on Spring Break and Kooky Kyle was out here for his very first Lisanti Adventure Tour (for more on that read Kooky Speaks Out) and I thought I was doing the best I could.  I thought I had an amazing girl friend and that my life was finally taking shape.  What I did not know was that the whole time I was showing Kooky the best time Santa Barbara had to offer some other guy was showing my girl friend a good time behind my back.

If it was not for that happening I would not have realized a lot about myself that I hated and would not have worked and am constantly working to change.  I am not yet 100% there but I will venture to say I am maybe at 75%.  Back then I did whatever I wanted regardless of the feelings of others.  These days I find myself most times living on the up and up and holding myself to higher standard of class.  Most days I go home proud of myself, who I am and what I am trying to become.  Before enlightenment chop wood carry water, after enlightenment chop wood carry water.

As I sat there perched in one of the eucalyptus trees all of this became apparent to me.  I looked out over all the beauty that is Santa Barbara and realized that this may be the first time in my life where I have not hated myself ever.  A feeling of calm and peace came over me.  I can’t say for certain, but I think everything is going to be alright.  Stay tuned for more Lisanti Spring Break 2012 adventures soon.  Here are some shitty photos I took on my cell phone.  Enjoy….

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It was twelve years ago that Christopher Wallace was gun down in LA.  A common tale of yet another great artist taken before their time.  I have done Juicy before as a Groovin’ High way back when it was just a side bar like the surflog.  I believe it was one of the very first one’s I ever wrote.  Being it is the 12 year anniversary of his death I thought I would revisit the song.

Juicy is by far my favorite BIG song and one of my all time favorites as well.  I have been an underdog my whole entire life.  The song is all about rising up and getting yours.  Sure I was not a crack pusher selling drugs to pay the rent for my mother like Biggie.  Lets face it in all actuality I grew up in a very stable home with a veritable silver spoon in my mouth.  So sorry I had better luck to whom I was born.

Besides that I the world has decided to beat on  me since day one.  I have been fighting since I came out of the womb.  I’m not complaining (well maybe a little, but I think everyone knows by now how much I love to whine), it only made me stronger.  That is why the song speaks to me.  If you work hard and believe enough maybe you will be able to achieve your dreams.

As far as the debate goes Biggie or Tupac, well I am sorry but although Pac may have been a recording machine I think song for song BIG just put down better rhymes.  To this day I think very few rappers can stack up to his prowess.   I actually had his head with the crown painted on one of my surf boards.  That is fan dedication right there.  Unfortunately that board ended up sucking so I sold it to Face, who I think may still own it.

I was smashed at the Wild Cat with Micheala, Sorbo and Kooky on 90’s night and we pretty much begged the bouncer to play “Juicy” and he kept skipping over it all night.  Finally at like 1:15am he decided to play it and by then we were so fucked up we just went nuts.  Screaming east coast, rapping out loud and just making absolute fools of ourselves.  Then again what else is new?  Enjoy the music folks.  I am on my way to the Wild Cat where they are sure to play just about anything but this song.

Biggie Smalls

The man knew how to dress as well. Since I have a passion for flashing you know I have to shout out.

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This week’s UCB and first of the quarter goes to John Mauriello, despite a challenge and a half set forth by Scotty B involving making home made Four Loco and possibly by own death.  I actually really am considering the challenge, just waiting for the right group of people in Lisanti Land to be down.  It seems like something I would need Micheala for.  John gets 1.5 points for the inaugural UCB.  He suggested I write just how I feel about strip clubs being I was just recently at one for Kooky’s send off.

A Right of Passage

Not condoning what goes on there, going to a strip joint is an American male right of passage when he turns 18 years old. It goes like this, you turn 18 and buy a pack of cigarettes, a lotto ticket and you go to the titty bar.  Yeah maybe you don’t smoke and could give two shits about the lotto.  You buy it because you can, end of story.  For the same reason it is why you should go to the nudey bar.

When I turned 18 I actually did not go to a strip club, per say.  Well I guess I sort of did.  My friend Jay and I (whom would later stab me in the back, et tu brute,  I guess I should have been aware of the Ides of March.  That is a story not for this blog, ever. You will just have to come to court for the skinny on that one) used to hang out at this run down dive in Asbury where I believe Porto is now.  It was called club seduction and it was the raunchiest strip club I have to this day ever been inside of.  They used to let us in under age and serve us alcohol.  The girls dancing were either over weight or anorexic, a few even had track marks on their arms.  All the while pimps would be propositioning us with their girls, drug dealers pushing and every other type of degenerate one could imagine to lurk about such a place.

We never went there for the strippers but the fact that they served us alcohol and the odds of us getting stabbed was rather high.  One night the cops raided the place and we bolted.  I found myself running through the streets of Asbury at 1 am.  Those of you who are lost, Asbury Park, NJ was one of the most run down dangerous towns in the state back then.  Not to mention 80% black, 15% Mexican and 100% bad news especially for two rich white boys.


After Seduction was shut down for illegal solicitation so ended my strip club days.  It was no matter cause I went off to college anyway.  I got back into town for winter break and my old friend rage tells me I have to come with him to this awesome club.  Skeptical I found myself at yet another strip joint.  Rage owned a convenience store and had plenty of money.  We walk in the door and the bouncer pounds him out.  Then upon entry all the girls cruising about trying to sell lap dances kept coming up, giving him hugs.  Apparently Rage had been spending some money there.  As it turns out the dude would drop around $250 a night and the strippers always tried to go home with him.  When I asked why he never took them he replied “fuck that they are dirty”.  Yet it did not stop him from getting a lap dance from them.

The Stripper Pole

This is one of those things I have never understood about strip clubs: the pole.  When was it decided that it was sexy to watch a woman swing around a six foot pole naked upside down?  I think it is rather entertaining to watch and a skill in its own right.  Come on how has something so bizarre become common place.  I love it even more when non-stripper women who on any given day would demean a stripper will go crazy on a stripper pole any place they find one outside of a strip club.

The Desperation

That is what these places are: dens of desperation.  I always find myself in a state of confusion in such establishments.  If I was in a whore house it would make sense.  Watch what each girl had to offer then buy one for the night.  At a strip club you go into a back room where you pay a women upward of $40 to $100’s of dollars to rub her nasty cootch all over your cloths.  If I drop $100 at the bar I am sure to pick up a woman who will do a lot more then that for me and we will both be satisfied in the morning.

The girls, oh the girls.  Is your self esteem so low that you need to dance for men for money, naked?  Sure the pay is good, but it is also good being a bar tender and one would still get similar attention as a pretty woman.  How is one ever to expect to amount to anything respectable in such line of work?  I may be lonely, but when I walk into a place like that it makes me feel even more alone.  Then again I have never really had a hard time meeting women.  Maybe for some men that kind of attention makes them feel good.  Hey bud wake up, your paying for that attention.

Quarter Rapped Dollar Bills

What is this you ask?  You take a dollar bill and you rap it around a quarter so that now you have a device you can whip a the stripper while she is dancing in attempt to bruise her body.  I went to a strip club in Oceanside once with a guy who literally would stack six quarters and rap them up then beam it at the girls tits.  Had he not regularly dropped hundreds of dollars there I think he would have gotten thrown out.  Recently I had a stripper sit down next to me and say “I drank a  green tea, a latte and a red bull and now I am really horny”.  I was taken aback at first then replied “Wow if I had all that caffeine I would be bouncing off the walls, not horny”.  She did not see the humor in it.

All I can say is that strip clubs in general are a waste of time and money in my opinion.  The occasional visit is a bit enjoyable thanks to the combination of the patrons and strippers. For whatever reason I seem to find my way into one on an annual basis.  One time by accident.  I was in San Francisco visiting Mauriello (For more on that trip read Talk About a Miscommunication) .  We got into a cab after a party had broken up early.  I asked the cabby to take us some place we could meet some pretty girls.  Misunderstanding my request we were dropped off in the strip club district of that town.  When in Rome….

Even Grandma Loves to get all over the pole. Ohhh baby what club does she work at.

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