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Archive for the ‘Blast from the Past: 2006’ Category

I know what your thinking, “another blast from the past”.  Reruns suck, but since this stuff is like four years old I find it rather interesting and worth a read.  Syndication is great.  Kooky and I are currently working our way through all nine seasons of Seinfeld in sequential order.  It has become quite the task. 

So I wrote this blog back in May of 2006.  It is back in my competition days as a failing professional surfer.  Every year they had this big contest in NJ that took place on the best day of the fall and only the best of the best from NJ were invited to it.  If you did not get an invitation (mine always got lost in the mail) there was a qualifier event for it where the top three guys would get spots.  This blog is about the 2006 qualifier.  Enjoy.

Another year.  That’s what went through my head when it was announced that I was eliminated from the 2006 Grudge Match Trials.  I’m not complaining, although making a Semifinal berth I was definately tasting it.  It was not meant to be.  This was not my year.

The sea was angry on Sunday my friends.  I pulled up to Meters (Meters is this trashy beach break they held the contest at to save money on a permit for Casino pier, a way better surf spot just about a few miles north.  It is called Meters cause the entire parking lot is filled with parking meters and the only free parking is four blocks in land) in Seaside Park at about 8am and am greated by the competive portion of the Jenks Militia (The Jenks Militia was this militant group of surfers who attempted to keep the crowds down a this decent little spot Jenks in NJ.  They thought they were tough but when push came to shove it was just another case of stupid localism that I the time I whole heartily bought into) , Brian “Slobby” Robinson, Dalton Johnson and Neil Bergen.  Slob was like “its retarded out there”.   I went up to the beach to check it and it is about 6-8 foot plus out of contol dumping heavy strom chop.  Im just like fuck another year wasted.

I go to check in, usually Im in round 1 or 2 and I hate that cause you dont really get a chance to feel out the contest scene.  This particular day though I was hoping to go early so that I did not have to watch the gnarl all day.  We all know how my luck works.  I drew Heat 12 the last heat of round 1.

I camped out on the beach about 50 yards from the contest area, just far enough to hear the announcments but far enough not to be recognized or noticed.  For me this is standard contest procedure.  I need to focus, get in the zone and I need to keep to myself for atleast the first few heats.

After watching the first 5 heats and seeing everyone getting annihilated with already 2 broken boards in, I was getting a bit freaked out.  I was feeling a little anxious and over the conditions.  In a moment of extreme adversity I even seriously considered throwing the event and going home.  This was not a realistic option though cause Smith my sponsor was putting on the event and it ould look real bad if me one of thier team guys was a no show.

So with the encouragement of Sindia and Slobby I maned up and got ready for my heat.  At the advice of Maffucci I paddled out down at Fun Town Pier nearly 400 yrds North of the contest zone.  It although a bit unnecessary worked out nicely since I found a nice chanel in between 2 sand bars there.

The heat began and for the life of me I could not find a wave that even looked remotely ridable.  Everything looked like death to me.  10 minutes went by and I had still yet to catch a wave.  All the while my competitors were getting worked by the ones that they were taking.  Finally using the last 5 min adrenaline I picked off a 6 ft left, came off the bottom and hit a gnarly close out section for my first wave.  Then I snuck back out and picked off another mid-sized left, ran the barrel and doggy doored out before the wave ate me alive. Lucky for me I drew an easy heat with nobodies in it and somehow won the heat.  I was stoked on one hand for the win but a little nervous about having to paddle back out there.  It was definitely scary and I have charged a lot of crazy surf.

My quarterfinal heat came up and it is pretty stacked.  I got my boy Slobby in the heat, This kid from down south who beat me in the Golden Glove and some other older guy.  Dont ever count out the older guys especially when the conditions are big and chunky.  I was not about to make another Amo Mistake.  Amo was the Rip Curl rep at the time and this fat disgusting older guy who surfed like shit but everyone kissed his ass anyway to get deals on gear.  I was not one of them.  He beat me in the quarter finals at some pro-am. I left the guy alone and did my own thing meanwhile he frothed and some how surfed the heat of his life.

The surf had gotten a bit more organized but also began to feather way the hell outside and had amplified to atleast 10ft on set. I dont know what changed inside me from round 1 to the quarters, but all of a sudden I just got in a zone and the size no longer fazed me.  I from the opening bells to the closing bells charged and killed the biggest waves of the quarter finals as many has told me later.  I thought I should have won the heat, the judges gave me second.  Who really cares cause both spots advance.  Slob got worked real hard on a gnarly one and went in mid heat.

Now I was in the Semis and feeling incrediable.  At this point I began to think that I had a shot at winning the thing.  I had a pretty stacked Semi (Semis are always pretty stacked) Nick Blunda my ESA foe from last years season, him and I were neck and neck all year till I eventually clinched the title at the last contest of the year.  Pat Emery and amazing seasoned competitor and 2 times Easterns Masters Champ and Super Grom Rob Kelly who had just come off a win at the NSSA Scholastics in Florida against the East Coast’s best.  Needless to say a tough heat.

I surfed this heat similiar to my last grabbing bombs.  The only problem was most with exception of 2 were close outs and out of those 2 only one was a really exceptional score.  I knew Kelly had first cause he was picking of safe insiders and getting turns in.  Blunda was out of the mix trying for a right that was not really happening down the beach.  This left just Pat and me with 2 minutes left on the clock and I had Pat edged out.  With 30 seconds left I nab a bomb that like many others closed out on me.  When I get to the beach I turn to see Pat pick off this right with 5 seconds left and proceed to get barrelled, come out and then hit it twice.  I knew then that I was done for.  Thats the story of my life.

Pat went on to take 2nd in the finals along with Kelly in 3rd and some old guy from Ocean City won it.  Dave Warner from LBI got 4th earning the first alternate spot.  Some say they thought I got robbed and should have beat out Kelly in the Semi.  I say the judging was probaly pretty accurate although my one good wave in the Semis should have been an 8.  Im stoked for Pat.  The guy  is old and does not have as much time left as I do.  Time goes fast and now I am old, but I also looking back find it comical how much this stupid shit meant to me.  

As far as the product toss goes if Sindia had come we would have cleaned up, but she was previously engaged.  I scored a hat but then forgot it on the beach.  Plus I fell wierd beating younglings for product from my own sposors when they send me the same shit for free anyway.  Over all though I can’t complain too much.  I surfed the best I could have possibly surfed and came up short.  Ill get em next year. I did not get them next year instead getting injured.  Fuck competitive surfing and all the hoopla around it.  Just surf and have a great time doing it and you will always be a winner.

Chris Lisanti is a fucking goon

One of my hits from the event. Look at that wonderful wing span.

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I have been scourging through the old Myspace archives to save some of my old writing.  So expect more blast from the pasts then usual.  Not to mention when ever I find myself lost in life I always look back to my past writings to amaze myself on just how little anything ever really changes.  This blog goes back to 2006. At the time I was surfing for this rinky dink small time NJ clothing company called Slide.  At the time I really believed in the thing and thought it had promise.  I dropped O’Neill to sign with them. 

They threw this elaborate party to promote the spring line at some swanky hip club in NYC.  It just so happened to be the same night and same club as Carmen Electra’s Birthday Party.  At the time I was on a hiatus from the party scene.  Being married I was trying to do the responsible settled down guy thing.  As you can see it did not work out, any of it, the wife, life or the sponsor for that matter.  Hindsight 20/20 right.  Fuck it cause I am still partying like a mother fucking rock star, but with out the money, glamour or accolade, but the same destroyed liver.  Who has it better then me??? I wonder!!!??!?

So about a month ago Mark Provost of Slide Clothing invited me to a party that him and Joe Delgado were throwing to promote the line.  He sends me this Evite invitation to my email. I had never gotten an Evite before and I thought it was rather impressive.  Just saying the word Evite made me feel important.  Turns out the party is gonna be held at this club in the Meat Packing District in NYC call AER.

I had no idea what to expect from this event so I decided that the only way to do a party like this was to bring an entourage and I immediately roused the troops.  I always try and roll with an entourage when I step out.  Power in numbers, well I say party in numbers.  If you bring your own little party to another party then you my friend have just made a better party.   My entourage included Nick Kiefer, Grep P., Sindia, Her friend Tina (Tina was this posh chick Sindia grew up with although the two were complete opposites. Her and I never really got along until about a year after this she took up surfing, cashed in her life and moved to Hawaii.  Not even I can hate on that kind of commitment to allowing Surfing to Ruin Your Life)  and her MYSPACE date James (who by the way was one of the most stylish Asian guys I have ever met I was from Jersey, we did not have very much diversity in the town I grew up in) and Tina’s Friend rachel.   The scene was set for a most interesting evening on the town.

Like I said I had no idea what to expect all I knew was that Joe was known for throwing legendary parties and that this was his biggest yet.  So we arrived in the city via train around 11pm and caught a cab to the corner of 13th and 9th where the club was suppose to be.  We got there and were totally not in Kanas any more.  I am talking like we just stepped into the Twilight Zone and were lost in Yuppie Town.  There were fancy resturants, posh clubs, well dressed people, limos and nice cars everywhere.  I was like fuck it lets get this show on the road.

Now finding AER should have been a piece of cake but as it turned out we ended up walking around the same one block radius for about 15 minutes. Sindia finally asked a bouncer from another club where this mystery place was.  He pointed around the corner which we had already walked by twice.

Now the only places on this block was a club called Fusion and another called CVB.   Sindia once again bails us out cause guys dont ask for directions and asked the bouncer at CVB where AER is (Damn NYC weird ass letter club names).  Turns out CVB is AER and that it is one of those NYC underground “It” clubs that does not need a sign cause its patrons are “cool” enough to be in the know. There was a time years before this when I was in the know.

This place had a line, but I was on the VIP list so there were no worries in my mind that we were getting in.  We get to the door and the lady with the list looked us up and down, rolled her eyes an said we had a bad girl to guy ratio and cannot come in unless we found 2 more ladies.  At that point we were on the street trying to find any 2 random girls to join the entourage.

This is where Tina’s Friend Rachel came into the group.  She jumped at the chance and grabed a cab across town to join us and boost our ratio.  AER and its contents was a pretty big deal at the time.  We got to the front of the line again, I have some words with the list bitch and she finally lets us in.  The next hurtle was if Greg’s fake was gonna get bythe bouncer or not.  It worked and we were in.

This is where the raping of our wallets began.  All the guys got hit wth a 15 buck cover charge and then we had to pay to check our coats.  The place is packed.  I am talking elbow to elbow, hard to get around packed.  Turns out the Slide party was in the downstairs VIP lounge. We meander our way through the club till we find an elevator that took us down into the VIP Lounge and the supposed Slide party (we had yet to see).  This room is packed too.  There had to be 200 people packed into a room the size of the surf shop.  The surf shop I worked in at the time was maybe just over 500sqft.

We made camp near the bar in an attempt to find a familiar face.  Nick went off and got an $8 beer.  My figuring was that eventually someone we knew would need a drink and have to show up at the bar.  After a half hour Greg was over it and bounced (not that I blame him cause it definitely was not our scene).  Nick managed to run into his ex-gril friend of 5 years who was with another one of his ex’s.  Whats the odds of that shit? Nick’s had his share of ladies.

Finally Nick decided that we should get wasted and always up making an ass of myself I concurred. See I told you some things never change.  Unfortunately our cash situation had been dwindled exponentially since we got to the city, but then a light bulb went on in my head: Bar Tab. Once again things that never change.  I pull my credit card out and told the bar tender (who was hot in a crack whore sort of way) to run me a tab.  Turns out you have to have $50 minimum.  I figured for 50 bucks we could get pretty thrashed.  Think about it you could pretty much drink yourself to death “Leavin Lost Vegas” style.  I now know after three years of trying that drinking yourself to death takes much more commitment then my wallet and personal triumph at suicide can handle. 

As it turns out it got us 3 rum and cokes and a beer, no one got drunk and not even a little buzz.  I decide we should cruise and try to find Mark and Joe to atleast get credit for being at the event.  Now getting through this crowd was no simple task and definately not for the claustrophobic.  Somehow we made it to the other side of the lounge where I see Joe mixing drinks and puring shots for some of the hottest girls in the room.

Turns out they were getting bottles of vodka brought over to them by the house all night and we could have been drinking for free. Now stoked that we could finally get some rounds free Sindia chimes in that her feet hurt and that she was ready to split.  Chicks always want to throw in the towel when the night starts getting good. Meanwhile I was just getting started, but when I looked to see what time it was my watch said 1:10am and we needed to be on the 1:41 Train which was the last one of the night.  Problem: Miss the train.  Solution: Party all fucking night till the 5am train shows up.

We had to make like Cinderella and book.  As we were leaving the club was even more packed and there were camera crews around.  I was like man the Slide party must really be a big deal.  Later I would find out that Carmen Electra was having her birthday party at AER that night as well.  Her, Dave Navaro and god knows what other famous people were there. If I had known that I would have fucked the train and just stayed till the club threw us out.  After all I did not get home till 3:40am anyhow.

Total Collateral wallet damage: $52.82 bar tab, $30 cover charges, $10 coat Check, $15 cab fares, $30 in Train tickets, $10 in gas and $60 for an outfit for Sindia. Over all I could have bought a board for what I spent at the Slide Party. Will I attend the next one you ask?

HELL YEA CAUSE THATS HOW I ROLL.

Turns out there were no more Slide parties since this one actually bankrupted the brand.  I like how I complained about all the money the night out costed me.  These days I do high roller nights like they are going out of style.  Shit my bar tab last month at the Wild Cat was over $400.  Its not cheap to party.  Forget about clothes, my wardrobe is always popping.  I try to figure out if I was better off back then or now?  Fuck I guess its not for me to decided and all I can do is move forward. 

 

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In 2006 I was living in a beat up run down beach bungalow in Manasquan, NJ with my now ex-wife working a dead end job managing an unsuccessful surf shop that the owner would later screw me royally at for making it successful.  I was going through the blog archives and came across this little gem about a trip to the DMV and a glimpse into just how much yet how little I have changed as an individual.  The last sentence is the real kicker to this Blast From the Past cause it proved I actually did accomplish something for a change. “Yippie Kiy yay Mother Fucker”!!!!!  This blog was originally posted on March 8 2006. Enjoy…

I woke up as usual on my day off eager (Note how my sarcasm is timeless)  and ready to sand and glass battered old surfboards for people who are not worthy of my skill.  As I went to get my sander out I realized that my respirator was shot, clogged with epoxy dust from this M10 I had to do last week (by the way I would rather get hit by a big stick swung by a Ningitsu master then fix epoxy surfboards.  Its just so un holy. They are like the Rose Mary Baby of the surfboard industry…but that is a whole other topic all together.). I still hate to fix epoxy surf boards.

Anyhow so I jump in my car and head over to A’s Home Center on HWY 35 in Wall(not getting paid for this plug either) cause they seem to have the best supplies at a quality price.  On my way back a very diligent officer of the law (oink oink) pulls me over to remind me in the form of a citation that my license had expired like 7 days ago.  Thank God for PBA Cards or I would have been hit with a 140 buck fine.  You know Squan cops hate me..but that too is for another topic.

So I decided to make the trek out to the DMV, which is not unlike one of the great crusades to  the holy land back in the middle ages.  Its a battle you dont want to fight, but the state makes it your duty to go there. Now for those of you who have not been to the DMV cause your too young to drive let me give you a play by play on how this Hell on earth works.  The first topic and the most frustrating is somthing we thank our good friend Osma for.  Its called the 6 points of ID you need to bring with you in order to obtain any kind of official document. In California you need like two.  God bless  the soon to rise again and secede from the union, The Bear Republic.  That is a blog for another day as well.

You need your old license, a Passport, a Marriage license, a Credit Card, School ID and a recent government Statement of Proof of address.  If you don’t have atleast 3 of these documents they are sending you on your way.  I once got shut down at Eaton Town because I was short 1 point of ID and that was on my 3rd check point.  Thats right you have to go through 3 different people to check your shit before you can even get in line.   Each one of these “Document Officials” is about as well trained to spot a forgery as my cat is to use the litter box with out making a mess. After 8-10years (not sure how old he is) Alfie still shits on the floor about 25% of the time.

So I got rejected cause my proof address was 31 days ago, one day past the 30 day cut off point.  Meanwhile Mohammad abdul wearing his turban and consealing his Israeli built hand held Usi had his 9 points of fraudulent ID cliaming he was Joe Smith got his license no problem.  I think they handed him a pilots license too.  I on the other hand was escorted out by security for as they put it “causing a scene”. Can you believe I did not drink back then???

This time however I was crazy prepared. I went to the one in Freehold to beat the crowds, plus was hoping to catch an afternoon session at Jackson. They had this really fun six foot half pipe at the skate park there I used to rock the shit out of.  I brought 12 points of ID and I had ID to back up that ID.  Those bitches did not even know what was coming their  way.  When I got through to the last check point the lady looked at me with eyes of contempt saying “the war is not over just because one battle was won”.  I snatched my license out of her hand grabed my balls Bruce Irons at Teau’poo style and laughed my way out the door all the while hearing complaints from others getting turned away for not being as prepared as me. “See you in 6 years bitches” I muttered undermy breath.  If in 6 years Im still living in this wretched place please come over my house and hit me across the face with the flat end of a 2×4′ cause I deserve a beating.  See I told you the last sentence was a kicker.  Out of one shit hole and into another. Lucky me, but at least I get to surf everyday.

Chris Lisanti Skating the Jackson NJ Skate Park

I really do miss skating that ramp.

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Considering the recent move from Myspace over to Surfing Ruined My Life I began to feel some remorse leaving some of my best writing behind.  So I decided that once a week I will feature a blog from the Lisanti Myspace archives and repost as part of a segment I would like to call “Blast from the Past”.  I will introduce the old blog, maybe give a thought or two on it, some hindsight even?  Let me know if you fancy this idea at all (not that I give a shit either way)

Title: February 2006 In Review
Date of Original posting: 2/28/2006

I love this blog after perusing it again after four years.  It is a perfect example of what a pessimistic Debbie downer I am. I mean my life was not all that bad, but I always wanted to more.  Maybe that is one of my biggest flaws my “Macbeth” like ambition for a title that is not meant to be mine?  It is also funny to think about what a different mindset I was in back then, still with wide eyes and hopes that I could amount to something in the commercial surf world.  I wont take up any more of your time with my finger words, your not stupid and can read it for yourself.  I will add the occasional note in the actual text in red!

February 2006 In Review

Well here we go; since there is like only 20 minutes left in the month of Febuary for the year 2006 I thought it might be apropos to give some what detail of the highlights and despair for this month in my life.  This may be a bit longer then my usual entries but trust me it will be totally worth the ride.

First let me tell you that Feb is a shit month for straight out of the gate cause my birthday is on the 4th.  Now I know this should seem like a good thing but truth be told after 18 its all down hill.  Some may say that 21 is the turning point for which all birthdays will suck after.  The main belief being that you can drink at 21.  Well Ive been drinking since I was 14 years old and was pretty much over it by the time I was 21 any way(at the time I had quit drinking for almost a year).

So This year I turned 25 which is a really shitty age.  Do you know that Kelly Slater already had 3 world titles by this age.  Not to mention that I am now classified as a masters competitor in Amatuer competition basically forcing me to only surf in pro events inorder to keep some semblance of dignity.  For those who dont know the masters division(in the CNJ/ESA) is one heat usually shared with the grand masters where you compete with the same 8 guys who basically pull the usual 3 to the beach format for points stifling any chance of creative surfing.

On my birthday I had to go to this winter Pro-Am contest in the rain on the beach air temp 35 water temp 41 (it was fucking freezing) . The surf was mini Vas conditions with shitty tides and fog.  Somehow I managed to pull off one of the best contest plays of my life winning every heat to the final by a margin of 3 points or better a heat.  Then I clowned the final cause of my whole loser complex (see “Olympic Realizations blog“).  But whatever I won a case of Red Bull which I gave away to a grom (Mike Scheoning, who was my former roommate and now joined the circus) but should have sold on ebay (I have never sold anything successfully on ebay).

As far as waves go Feb was a flat out skunking besides super fun super bowl sunday (check out the pics onwww.surfnjamnj.com)(surfnjamnj.com was the precursor to this site and is now long since defunct) and one really epic day at Jenks.  Luckily I discovered a Skate Park in Moorstown with a 12 foot half pipe to help ease the pain.

Mentally Feb was a tough month for me.  My Hawaii trip that I have been looking foward to all winter long was shot down no longer then a week ago.  I called my boy who lives out there who was all like “yeah cuz you come out to rock and Ill put you up no worries”. Right?!!! The I call him and he is all like back peddling sayin maybe I could stay for like 2 or 3 days and that not to rely on him to get me to some waves.  Great invite next time your back home in dirty Jerze see what kind of hook ups you get from me. “Here on the North Shore we treat our friends MO betta Bra”.(I ended up scoring Costa Rica and California on two separate trips later that winter)

So with no winter training in my sights you can see how bummed I am.  So all I have to look foward to is a Shitty ESA Pro AM at Casino Peir and that Sayreville opens up at night again tomorrow. Not to mention that I cant open up Crazy Chris’ Skate Land (Skate Land was this pipe dream I had thinking I could open and run a successful skate park, there were some potential investors, a business plan was drawn up, but then as usual I got lazy on it) in the old Wonder Bread Factory cause there are too many cross bars in the ceiling.

Overall Febuary gets a 3 out of ten making it thus far the shitiest month of the year.  But At least I got my health.  Truth be told I probaly dont even have that cuase I got this gnarly rash on my neck that is probaly skin cancer slowly killing me for the outside in (it was not skin cancer just an allergic reaction).  We wont get into my hypocondria now though for that can be a topic for another day.  If you dont see me tomorrow it is because I most likely hung myself from my shower curtain rod. (Dont worry I doubt it is strong enough to support my weight plus the length from the ceiling to the floor is only 6 feet. So it will just be another task that I will fail at) (I really did try and hang myself, first from the shower rod then my closet rod breaking both of them, not only did I fail at suicide but I had to fix my shower and my closet, that was a joke please no sympathy “dont kill yourself Chris” messages).

There you have it a bonified blast from the past, speaking of Blast from the past, here is a really fun clip from the movie “Blast From the Past”.

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