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Archive for the ‘Blast From the Past: 2008’ Category

This weeks UCB makes a champion of John Mauriello asking a very apropos topic considering the theme of the last few blogs.  He asked I tell about the time Slater gave me one of the best waves I have ever gotten at Rincon and my in my life as well. I actually have two good Slater stories to tell both from the same time of year.  Truth be told both of these have been bloged about back in the myspace days but since it is near impossible for me to look up those archives thanks to Myspace.com’s terrible redesign I believe they may be lost forever.  I guess I will have a lot of retelling to do.

February 4 2008

It was my Birthday and my first winter at Rincon.  At the time I was sleeping on Cory’s couch and just sort of bumming around Santa Barbara.  I hated Rincon up until this faithful day.  Every time I went there I always got burned on the good ones and never seemed to pick the right ones.  This is a common novice complaint at Rincon.  To utilize the spot to its greatest potential one really needs to know where to sit and how to work the crowd.  Two entities that take plenty of time to figure it out.  Im still trying to get it wired.

Every time Cory and I would check Rincon I always bitched and moaned till we went some place else, usually Pitas, Little Con or Cstreet.  This day as we were passing by Rincon it was flawless 6-8ft with off shore winds and looked like a picture a day dreaming slacker would draw in his note book during math class.   Im talking waves as good as waves get.  The crowd looked heavy but the waves pretty consistent.  Against my will Cory forced us to surf it.

He jumped in at the cove as usual, while I went up to River Mouth.  As I was walking up there I noticed some one in a white wet suit directly in front of me.   People were taking pictures and videos.   It could be none other then Kelly Slater.  Him and I paddled out basically side by side through the river mouth and he snagged the first wave.  I had a couple of waves but nothing spectacular.

Then this solid eight footer swung wide and I was in perfect position.  I took off on the thing and it immediately walled up as it hit the sand bar and folded over.  I found myself standing straight up in a wide tube.  Im super deep but steadily making my way out as I went down into a pig dog for more speed.  As Im riding this thing in the barrel for an easy fifty yards people are screaming at me as they are paddling by.

Then right when I was about to come out I fell backwards but some how caught myself in a lay back thus running even deeper in the tube.  By the time I was mid way through this barrel section I looked out and saw Slater look in at me from the shoulder.  He hooted and threw a shaka my way.  Stoked I stood up and pumped out of the pit.  At that point I was at the top of the cove.  I hit the lip as I was passing by Cory who was all hoots.  I ended up call boxing that wave.  It was the first wave I ever call boxed at Rincon and it was on my birthday no less.

When I paddled out into the lineup Slater looked at me and said “that was a sick one”.  Im sure I blushed like an embarrassed little girl.

Mid Fed 2009

This is the story John was asking for.  Those of you who have been part of this blog from back in the Myspace.com days probably remember what a mess I was that year.  Sindia and I had just split up and I was for all extensive purposes partying way too hard subconsciously attempting to drink myself to death.  This session came about courtesy of my boy Brennan, whom with out his motivation would have never left the couch.  It was a Saturday afternoon in Mid-February and Im sure I went way too hard the night before thus sleeping in till well past one.

Brennan showed up around two-ish looking to surf.  I was just sitting down to breakfast at the frat house (it was not a real frat, but since nearly 12 guys ended up moving into my apartment it became an unofficial one).  At like 2:30 thirty we cruised to Rincon.  I did not even know if there was swell running or not I was so out of the loop.  Like I said back then I was a bit unfocused thanks to my mental and emotional state of affairs.

We walked down the trail and it was solid 6-8 ft Rincon super glassy and only about 100 guys out on the entire point.  All of a sudden I went from unmotivated to pure froth.  As I was running up to the river mouth I saw Slater snag one and just rip the shit out of it.  My first wave was a bomb up at low indicator.  This thing had to be solid ten foot if it was an inch.  I barely made the drop/bottom turn on my little 5’10.  When I came around the first section and into my reo some dude completely burned me.  I was moving and it was flawless Rincon so the sections were not too racy.

This dude and I ended up changing tracks a few times and just have a good old time for ourselves.  When the wave reached the cove, he pulled out, gave me a smile and I ripped the thing all the way to the highway falling off just forty yards from the call box because my legs were so tired.  After that wave I ran back up the point to do it again.

Upon paddling back out I saw Slater sitting up at low Indicator.  I sat next to him and made the usual surfer small talk as if he was no one special.  I most likely said something like its pretty fun out here and so on and so forth.  The stock standard surfer lineup bull.  This set came in and it was another group of solid ones.  We let the first one go and the second was just perfect lining up to be another epic ride.  Slater looks ate me and says do you want this one.  I was like really?   Then I turned and went for it.

That wave ended up being amazing.  I had something like two barrels on it and over twenty hits riding the wave from low Indicator all the way to double call box.  When Rincon is flawless it is more then possible to get rides that long.  To this day I think that was the best wave I have ever caught out there.  When I pulled off my wave l looked back and saw Slater finishing up on the one behind it.  I think I only had enough leg power left in me for a dozen or so more.

I ended up paying Slater’s kindness forward towards the very end of my session.  I was in perfect position for this eight footer in mid River Mouth.  As I was paddling for it I saw this chick having a look and I knew for a fact she had yet to get a good one.  Once I saw her paddling I gave her the nod and she got that wave all the way in.  I saw her out later that session and she was very appreciative and said it was most likely the best wave of her entire life.  You see what goes around comes around.  I can only hope that some day she returns the same kindness to some other frustrated surfer in need.

There is nothing like really good Rincon.

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As a teen on Long Island like most other places in America Halloween shifts from getting candy to seeing how much and to what degree of senseless acts of vandalism  you can perform before the cops are called.  Also on Long Island you and your crew would be armed with shaving cream and eggs so that if you encountered another crew you could have a pseudo gang fight.  From there most of my Halloween nights cosisted of getting doused in eggs and shaving cream (we would stick a pin in the nosil of the shaving cream lid, melt it, pull ou the pin and it would shoot up to 8 feet)  and ended with atleast one Kenyan track star run from the police.

I think my favorite tale from this era was when I was 14.  My boys Peter, Tom, Vinny, Frank, John, Eddie and I were cruising around the streets since like 3pm causing trouble and reeking havoc on the neighborhood.  We thought we were a pretty bad ass crew and could take on anyone.  Earlier before we all crewed up Tom Vinny and I ran into this smaller crew of seniors and ambushed them with cream and eggs, retreating quick enough as to not get the wrath of their retaliation. They most likely would have beat the shit out of us had we been caught.  Even though we thought so the three of us were not all that tough.

Later on that night we were chilling in the front yard of Tom’s house waiting for another crew that might dare pass by our “turf”.  We were kicking it when these three cars loaded with dudes come racing around the corner and slam on the breaks in the middle of the street in from of our camp.  12 guys jump out of the cars armed with eggs, shaving cream and paint ball guns.  Turns out it those seniors we hit earlier regrouped and spent the night hunting us down.

It all happened so fast that we had no time to escaped.  I ended up jumping into a bunch of hedges and as luck would have it found a piece of plywood to use as a sheild from the paint balls.  I could only sit their and watch in horror as my boys got pelted with eggs, shot with paint balls and forced to eat shaving cream.  When the seniors finally cleared out Vinny (who had also took to hiding) and I came out unscathed only to unbelievingly behold the carnage of our friends terrible misfortune.  Tom got the brunt of the paint balls, which left welts all over his body.  Peter was covered in shaving cream in the middle of the street and Eddie completely in shock by the whole orccurance jumped on his bike and rode home nearly in tears.

Turned out Frank and John whom had left our company earlier got jumped by a few of the guys we thought we so craftily ambushed and were forced to sell us out or be beaten.  I dont blame them I dont think I would have held out either.  We were 14 year old pampered rich kids not Israli green berays.

After that tramatic experience we all decided it best to call it a night. Vinny and I lived near each other so we decided to walk home together.  I guess we were about half way there when we saw a car that looked to be one of the ones in the convoy that hit us not long ago. Thinking we were just paranoid we picked up our pace but stayed on the road.  When the car came up next to us our fears were realized.

It was the same car paint balls in hand.  Basically we got hit by a drive by paint balling.  I got hit twice in the side and once in the leg.  Vinny took two in the back.  That shit hurts fucken pretty bad.  The welts lasted for like 2 weeks.  We figured we were in the clear and afterall it was only fair since our boys got the brunt of it ear;ier.  We sat there on the ground for a moment to gather ourselves on what just happend but before we had the chance the car pulled a U-turn and was coming back for a second round.  Deciding not to stick around to see what was in store for us next we bolted.

Vinny and I took off down the street in the oppisite direction with car hot on our tail.  We had like a good mile lead on them and then we came to a fork in the road.  It was here that we made the call to split up allowing one of us to get away safely.  Ofcourse who do you think they followed.  You guessed it; Yours truely.

At this point dude is out the window shooting paint balls on almost rapid fire.  He must have had that double pump thing down.  Some how though matrix style I managed to avoid the shells and ran into the woods unharmed.  I knew the a short cut through this vacant spell of pine trees and then trough one of my neighbors back yards which would bring me only a few houses from mine.  When I get in the woods I thought I was sitting pretty (keep in mind there is nothing more scary then being in the middle of the woods in the gloom of the night on Halloween.) and slowed my pace all out of breath from the previous chase.

All of a sudden I hear foot steps behind me and I bolt into the darkness running full speed through pine branchs, jumping over under brush.  I had not been back in the woods in a few years and it was pretty dark so I was kind of winging it.  Some how my spidy sense got me to my neighbors backyard and ofcourse he had just recently put up one of those wood fences that are impossible to climb.

You know how people say that in moments of extreme adversity the human body can perform rediculous feats of strength, like a man lifting a car off a child sort of thing.  Well I was hoping that this was one of those moments and ran full speed at the fence and went for the jump.  I jumped grabed onto the post which was a solid 6 feet up and attempted to catapult myself over it parking meter style (when you jump a parking meter with nothing but your arms pushing you over it).  As I was coming over somthing hit me square in the back of the head.  It was an egg from the seniors.  As it exploded all over my hair (which was long, actually it was the first year I grew my hair long) it threw off my momentum and as I as about to clear the fince my left foot got hung up and I went down on the otherside of the fence head over heels

God must have been shining a light on me that night folks cause some how I managed to not break my neck although I did manage to tear the leg nearly clean off my jeans form getting snagged on the fence post. I took a minute to take stock in my current situation, paint balls welts, egg all over my hair, cuts, scraps and bruises all over my face and body from the woods run, but I was alive and how alive I felt too.  I took a deep breath and took a victory lap home.  Sure I got the shit knocked out of me, but I survived and at that moment felt like I could do anything.

Turns out one of the other cars caught up with Vinny too and he was forced to endure 10 minutes of getting pelted by eggs and shaving cream before ultimately getting sent home beaten and dejected.  All and all one of the most exciting Halloweens ever.

 

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Here is a tale from my early years experience with Halloween.

As youngin Halloween was as it is to any kid one of the most awesome days of the year.  I got to dress up in these sick costumes my Mom used to sew for me by hand.  These were not your ordinary k-mart plastic pull over costumes that every other kid would wear.  The shit my mom made was pretty bad ass.  I remember one year (probaly her best work) she made this frog outfit for me cause at the time that was my favorite animal, think I might have been in like 2nd grade or somthing absurd like that.

This costume was crazy.  It had both webbed hands and feet and the head was tight all stuffed.  I actually looked like a frog. It must have taken her like a week to make the thing building her own custom patterns and picking out the right fabric.  You think I have bad OCD where do you think I got it from.  My Elementary school had this costume contest every year and I always came close but that year we thought I was a definate to win (see even Halloween was a contest).  To my mother’s dismay I got 2nd to some kid in a high priced rented gurrilla costume.  I actually think she still has that frog costume some where.

That parade was a bunch of bullshit anyway.  I think it was rigged.  Certain kids who won seemed to always be those kids who get the breaks in life.  Whatever fuck’em I did not need the box of candy or whatever first prize was.  I got mine every year on the trick or treat beat anyway.  My mom was all about efficiency in that case as well utilizing the car in order that we hit several neighborhoods besides our own to maximize our candy potential.  It was like an after school job, from 2-3 we hit one section of town, then 3-4 another and finally the last sector from 5-6.  It was bizarre but we always had candy almost till Christmas from the whole ordeal.

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Every Halloween I like to post a tale from a Lisanti Halloween Past.  For me Halloween has always been one of those ridiculously insane Holidays where I have almost died, been arrested, made trip to hospital or a combination of all three.  I have a few Halloween blogs from the old Myspace Blog and over the next few days I will post them up here as blasts from the past and then on Halloween post a brand new Halloween tale from the Lisanti Archives of gnarl.  As always any text seen within the blog in the color red is a commented added for this edition.

Halloween of my junior year of High School I was running with the artsy crowd.  A group of musicians, artists and alternative thinkers.  Basically it was our excuse to think we were better then all the “cool kids” and gave us an excuse to smoke pot and drink on a regular basis writing it off as helping our cause.  Now unlike in NY where trick or treating and vadalism all go down on the 31st in NJ the day before Halloween is called Mischief night and that is when you go out, break shit and cause trouble. I grew up in NY and moved to NJ at 15 for those of you who are new to this blog.

We did not go out on Mischief night opting to get high instead.  So Halloween was going to be our night.  We began this night as any other in my buddy Matt’s garage crowded around the bong while doing shots of Smirnoff (plastic Handle, of course, classic high school).  After getting good and baked we headed to Wall’s favorite health and recreation spa located in South Wall (I wont give the name of it so as to not find myself in trouble later, but you should be able to figure out where I am talking about) to relive a Halloween past time for this group.  It was only my 2nd Halloween here in NJ and I spent the first one with my girl friend at the time so this was all new to me.

Turns out the last two Halloweens this crew would go down to the aforementioned health club and knock over the three outside vending Machines near the pool before bolting from security. I am always amped to get into trouble was down for the challenge.  The thing we forgot was that the previous years no one got as baked. I in no means condone drug and alcohol use among minors, but I was young and dumb as you will see as you read on.

We got to the back of the health club via the woods and hopped over the fence by the soccer fields and stealthily made our way to the Pool.  The lay of the land was there were three vending machines spaced out along the grounds.  One next to the pool, one near the tennis bubble and one up against the side of the racquetball courts.  To accomplish this imbecilic ask we had to break up into teams of three or so in order to make sure we tipped them all at the same time cause when the shit fell down it was super loud.  If we attempted to do each individually we would definitely get clipped.

Stew, Hugine and Jay took the one near the Tennis bubble, Ellen, Fisher and Shelly took the Racquetball one and Matt and I got the Pool.  Everyone got into position and when each team was ready we quickly shined a flashlight in the air.  When all three were seen we would count to three silently and flip the machines.  Everyone had three people but Matt and I so we had our work cut out for us but were up to the task.

As we knocked our’s over Matt’s sweater got caught on something on the front of the machine and he ended up going over with it.  At that moment all that was heard was the crashing of vending machines that had fallen over with a loud bang  followed by the shattering of broken plastic and to my dismay Matt’s scream of sheer pain.  I look down and his arm is now caught under the vending machine crushed by the weight and there is blood everywhere.  I guess the broken shards of plastic shrapnel must have cut him up good.

I looked toward the other side of the compound and saw the other teams retreating off into the woods unknowing of our situation.  I quickly was able to pick the machine up enough for him to get his arm out.  When he pulled it out the shit was mangled.  I’m not going to lie dude’s arm was definitely broken and the lacerations from the plastic definitely needed stitches.  Matt sat there in shock for a moment, but before we could take stock on the situation a security guard was hot on our trail.

I was like “Matt we go to run”.  I ripped my shit off and made it into a make shift sling for him to hold his arm with as we took off running.  Security was on us from all angles.  They even had the golf carts out chasing after us. We made it to the fence and I could tell by Matts eyes he was not going to be able to flip himself over the fence.  I cradled my hands and boosted him up and over the fence.  He fell to the other side flat on his face landing square on his good arm.  As I would find out very steadily would no longer be a good arm.

I made the hop over the fence, pick up Matt on his feet now with two broken arms and we took off running through the woods as fast as we could till we came out on the street.  By now I figured security had to have called the cops and they would be out patrolling for us in the surrounding streets of the perimeter of the club.  I pulled off my jacket and put it over Matt so as not to bring attention to ourselves.   After all a kid shaking from shock with two broken arms and blood all over might alarm some people. Then I grabbed some decorations off some guy’s front lawn and made ghetto costumes to pass as trick or treaters.

It was good we did too cause the next block we came to there was a cop car eyeing up everyone around.  By the time we made it back to Matt’s house he was just about ready to pass out.  The crew was not there either.  I figured they probably went out looking for us.  I had to drive Matt to the Hospital in his car with just my learners permit, an act that if I caught doing would make  me not able to get my license till I was 18.

We arrived at Jersey shore and Matt was fucked up.  He ended up with 2 broken arms, casts all the way up to his shoulders, surgery on both and 133 stitches combined.  It was pretty funny.  He could not do shit for himself for around a month or so.  Worst part was we had to tell everyone he fell down a flight of steps in order to not get busted for the health club thing.  Everyone at school thought he was a retard.  It was classic.  Another epic Halloween in the can.

Imagine getting crushed by one of these.

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