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A Month of Flatness: August 2013 Surfing Reviewed

Posted in Anger, Life, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 3, 2013| 2 Comments »

Talk about a load of absolute bullshit!  Worse then bullshit.  I think I would have much rather have been dragged through a pile of filthy, smelly bullshit any day then have to live through a month of poor surf like I have never seen anyplace, anytime, my entire life.  Yeah, it was not the best summer on record for California.  We only saw one really exceptionally large south swell all season, the sand bars at Santa Clara River Mouth were average, Lowers was average and packed, as was just about ever other place I surfed. Never the less I stayed wet with the minor south swells that graced our coast.

Then August came along and it was as if the pacific ocean decided it wanted to fuck everyone who surfed in California over for the entire month.  Most days the report read 1-2 ft.  Some even read flat.  What little swell that did trickle up to the 805 was absolute crap not worth the drive.  Every day I kept hoping for things to pick up, but they didn’t.  When all was said and done I had surfed just five times in the entire month.  Since I started surfing I don’t think I can even remember a month that piss poor.  Some how I managed to not kill or maim myself,  end up in jail or get on a plane and disappear to a better surf locale.  Nope, I grinned and bared it like the rest of my fellow Californian surfers.  Lets just hope August was the sacrifice we needed for a good fall and even better winter.  If not I am going to have to move.  Here are my pathetic numbers:

Surf Sessions: 5
Days Surfed: 5
Time in the Water: 8 hrs
Waves Surfed: 172
Average Waves Caught Per Hour: 22 

Spots Surfed:
Emma Wood: 1
Gold Coast: 1
Ocean Beach, San Francisco: 1
Morro Bay, San Luis Obispo: 1
New Jetty: 1

I have no top surf sessions this month cause basically they all sucked.  The Ocean Beach session was the best of the lot and that was just barely palatable.  To read about a month of misery and a look into a surfer’s brain when there are no waves check out the August ’13 edition of the surflog.

Here I am looking very enthusiastic after 1 out of the 5 surfs I had in August. Note the lack of waves in the background.

Here I am looking very enthusiastic after 1 out of the 5 surfs I had in August. Note the lack of waves in the background.

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The Path Less Trodden Upon: Tuolumne Meadows, Yosemite

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , on August 27, 2013| Leave a Comment »

Yosemite

After two days of experiencing nature with 3000 of my closest friends I needed some serious space.  I don’t care how beautiful one’s surroundings are, throw in a excess of humans and the beauty becomes significantly reduced.  My parents and my time at Yosemite had come to a close and despite the amazing sights we beheld the three of us sort of needed a break from other people on vacation.   We are all from very densely populated areas ourselves, them flying over from New Jersey and me from southern California.  You can understand how important some alone time with nature can be for us.
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On our way out we decided to cruise through the eastern end into the Tuolumne Meadows area.  After only putting about twenty miles between us and Yosemite Valley a large difference in the number of park users was observed.  Don’t get me wrong we were not alone in the wilderness, but we certainly were enjoying more breathing room.  This was just at all of the view points that were directly off the road.  I got the feeling if one was to strike out into the wilderness he could easily disappear forever if such was desired.
Yosemite Forest Stream

As we would find out from postings at both trail heads and the visitors center people go missing all of the time in the park especially in this area.  Many of the cut trails have not nearly been walked upon as those in, around and above Yosemite Valley.  The effect is that some are hard to follow and what looked like your trail turned out to be a smaller off shoot that easily allowed one to go astray.  My parents and I stopped at this cool vista point off the road where there was a hiking trail through all of this granite and sparsely forested terrain.  Along this trail we came across lots of cool views of rock formations, Pine laden valleys, lakes and streams.
Yosemite back side of Half DomeIt did not take long of us not paying attention to our immediate route to realize we had lost the trail and been wondering about on this giant granite hillside.  With out throngs of people all over the place our situation seemed a bit scary.  Luckily a pack of foreigners came out of the trail head and up onto the granite hill we were meandering.  Its a good thing they did because we were totally looking for the trail in the complete opposite direction of where the car was parked.  At that moment it became apparent how easily it would have been for us to end as another national park statistic.
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Found this little guy enjoying a snack the size of his head right along side the trail.

From there we made our way into Tuolumne Meadow where there were plenty of cool valley streams, lakes and meadows.  It was here that I was reminded why I came out into the wilderness to begin with.  Everyplace I went was empty and I reveled in the divine peace it afforded me.  All I can say is it made me a Yosemite fan once again and I plan on visiting many more times and in various seasons.

At one with nature.

At one with nature.

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Attempting to Find Peace and Connect with Nature in Yosemite Valley

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 19, 2013| 1 Comment »

The entrance to Yosemite Valley. El Capitain is the closest formation to the left with Half Dome in the very background.

The entrance to Yosemite Valley. El Capitain is the closest formation to the left with Half Dome in the very background.

“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.” These words were penned by Scottish immigrant John Muir in 1901 from the work Our National Parks.  Muir found his way into Yosemite in 1868 and the raw untouched beauty of the place stole his heart.  Thanks to his efforts, president,  Abraham Lincoln, who first declared the area a national park, President Theodore  Roosevelt and many others this magnificent natural splendor is still around for everyone to enjoy.
YosemiteThese days the geological anomalies may look the same as when Muir first laid eyes on it, but the park itself has certainly changed a lot.  I found Yosemite just like most other entities in California to be overcrowded to the extent that in many cases it ruined the effect of being in such an enchanting hamlet should have on one.  All of the most popular sites had full parking lots, traffic jams to get to and in some cases regular shuttle bus service.  At some points I found myself hiking in the middle of the forest with over 100 other people.  When I was checking out the giant Sequoias I felt like I as walking down an NYC street in the middle of lunch hour.

It took me nearly twenty minutes to get this picture waiting my turn with all the other big tree enthusiasts.

It took me nearly twenty minutes to get this picture waiting my turn with all the other big tree enthusiasts.

That being said Yosemite is the heaviest visited National Park in all of America and it is the summer time at the height of their tourist season.  The scenery is absolutely breath taking and for me it was unlike any other place I have ever visited in my life. Crowds aside the park is over 1000 square acres and there are plenty of nooks and crannies that are just as marvelous and way less visited.  If one is feeling a tad bit on the adventurous side it is more then easy to go off the beaten path, blaze your own trail and be alone in the wilderness.  I took so many pictures and saw so many amazing things I am going to break my Yosemite experience into two posts.  This one will focus on Yosemite Valley and its surrounding area.

Glacier Point

Half Down as viewed from Glacier Point.

Half Dome as viewed from Glacier Point.

My parents and I arrived in the park in the early afternoon, checked into our condo, which although not the best situation lived up to the promise of having ready to use kitchen.  Since I was to be my parents personal chef for this leg of the trip I needed to make sure we had the basics.  I stowed all the food so it was bear safe and off we went for our first Yosemite excursion.  Glacier point seemed the best option considering the amount of available daylight afforded to us.  From this bird’s eye overlook one could get an easy “pull up and park” panoramic vantage of Yosemite Valley, El Capitan, Half Dome, and Vernal and Nevada Falls.  No hiking or climbing necessary.  I love modern convince.  I bet Muir wished there was a road to the place back in his day.

Vernal and Nevada Falls

Vernal and Nevada Falls

This was our first look at the valley from above and some of the main draws of the park.  When we pulled up at the first overlook my dad pulled out the park map to see what we were looking at (we were staring right at Half Dome) when I noticed that what was a front also happened to be the photo on the cover of the map.  I must say I was rather impressed.  The lighting was perfect to get some really cool photos.  At this view point the crowd was some what light.
Yosomite Glacier PointFrom there we worked our way to the actual tip of the Glacier Point.  Here parking was a bit hard to find and people were in no short order.  I heard more languages spoken then at a meeting of the United Nations.  I am glad that America has become the bargain basement of travel for the rest of the world.  Despite the fact that there had to be over a hundred and fifty people I still managed to have my breath taken away by the 180 degrees view.  I also decided that if I ever want to commit suicide that is the spot Its going to go down.   There was even the perfect diving rock off the cliff.  Next stop the Yosemite Valley Floor.  Just think of the unscheduled entertainment all those Euro’s could go home and tell their friends and family that they got to witness a real live American suicide.  All the little children would have sworn they saw Super Man.

My future suicide bridge...its a bird, its a plane, its...SPLAT

My future suicide bridge…its a bird, its a plane, its…SPLAT

The Giant Sequoias

I have to admit I have a serious obsession with trees, especially old trees.  As a kid I was captivated by the California Redwoods.  Later while living in New Zealand the giant kauri trees were one of the craziest things I have ever beheld.  When I heard Yosemite had their own collection of larger then life trees that have lived for hundreds of years I just had to check them out.  Apparently hundreds of other visitors felt the same way.  As a matter of fact that section of the park was so full that we had to take a bus into the Sequoia area.

These Sequoias trunks are bigger then my dick and that is a feat in itself.

These Sequoias trunks are bigger then my dick and that is a feat in itself.

Taking the bus was fun.  I love pubic transportation.  If they would have thrown in a few smelly bums and some guy passed out in a puddle of his own vomit I would have felt like I was riding a local Santa Barbara bus to Isla Vista.  There were about another two bus loads behind me.  When I stepped out the line leaving the spot looked like the line to get on Space Mountain at Disney Land.  Then we began the 2 mile hike up to Old Grizzly the oldest of the the gang.

Old Grizzly

. Old Grizzly

There were all these signs about bear safety and what not.  since there were hundreds of new friends of mine meandering all over the trail I figured even if we got attacked by a pack of bears there was plenty of food for everyone.   Really I shouldn’t be sour grapes.  These trees were put on this earth for everyone to enjoy.  Maybe the problem is there are just too many people to enjoy them.  The tragedy of the commons has moved along way from the village.  Still at the end of the day I am glad to have gotten to see these grand trees and from what I have read there are plenty more in remote areas that can be accessed through a vigorous hike.

My mother and I at a foot tunnel cut in one of the living Sequoias. I don't know who this dude is in the foreground.

My mother and I at a foot tunnel cut in one of the living Sequoias. I don’t know who this dude is in the foreground.

The Valley Floor

After the Sequoias my parents and I cruised down to the bottom of the Yosemite Valley to see the open meadows and get a feel for the vast size of the Sierras from the ground level.  You know sort of like when your in front of a sky scraper and look up.  The Valley Floor as it is called is also where the largest concentration of tourist accommodations in the park are located.  This equals even more crowds.  At this point I had it up to the top of Half Dome with people, but there were still some things to check out so I sucked it up and promised to keep my cool.

This tunnel is one of two that allow entry into Yosemite Valley, bored right through the granite of the mountain.

This tunnel is one of two that allow entry into Yosemite Valley, bored right through the granite of the mountain.

I had no idea that a place with such limited internet and cell phone reception could ever be so popular.  I guess I should be happy that so many people could embrace going back to their roots when man lived a bit simpler.  My parents on their usual obsession with Visitor center videos made sure we sat through the one there.  It was not much for content, but  amazing cinematography.  From there I was itching to make the hike up the base of Vernal Falls which happens to be the trail head for the John Muir trail.  The Muir trail runs 211 miles an impressive trek.
Yosemite Dome Valley Overlook

This climb was a pretty steep grade, but a well cut trail even paved a good portion of the way.  Just like everything else so far it was also very crowded.  Luckily by this point I had acclimated to the insanity and just pretended it was another day at Lower Trestles.  All three of us made it to a foot bridge about a mile into the trail.  Then my Dad and I went a bit further so I could get a better picture of the falls.  This portion of the trail was a semi treacherous stair case cut into the side of the cliff.  It was a rather vigorous climb and it felt good to be working at such a feat.  The pictures were worth the reward.  I only wish I had more time to climb even higher.

Vernal Falls

Vernal Falls

The view on the way back down the stairs.

The view on the way back down the stairs.

I know this installment sounded a bit on the negative side.  I really did cherish every minute I spent in this part of the park despite the crowds.  Yosemite National Park is a must see for everyone of this great nation before his expiration.  The fact that I waited six years of residency in California to make it to Yosemite makes me sad.   Now that I know what I have been missing I will be sure to get back there as much as I can.  Stay tuned for part two of my Yosemite chronicles soon when I explore the the Tuolumne Meadows area and find a much needed escape from people.
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A Paradise Underground

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , on August 17, 2013| 4 Comments »

Forestiere Gardens

Family is one of those things that one has to deal with from time to time.  I don’t know why we as human beings feel this unnatural need to stay in contact with someone just because they raised us.  As far as secondary family ties, well lets not get me started on that.  Maybe it stems back to tribal days or early times when family meant survival.

As cold as I try and come off I too unfortunately fall subject to the archaic sentiments of the heart.  Once a year I make an effort to see my folks.  Last year I made two, a trip to Portland Oregon (read my Portland Blogs here follow the breadcrumbs to read the rest of the adventure) and a trip back home to New Jersey for my sister’s wedding.  I absolutely hate going to New Jersey.   It was bad enough I lived there for over 10 years.   After all of that I was spent on family for quite some time.

My parents had not come out to visit me here in Santa Barbara in six years and the last time they were here I did not make nearly the impression a person of my stature should.  At the time I was living in a rundown tenement with 12 other guys smoking blunts all day and getting into all sorts of trouble.  Long story short they were far from impressed and I have always felt whenever my mother and I talk on the phone or she thinks about me living in California she still sees me living that old life, when in actuality I am doing alright these days.

This year while discussing our annual visit my parents decided to come out and visit me.  Since they had already seen Santa Barbara and I live there we decided to go on a tour of Yosemite, Tahoe, San Francisco and Hearst Castle.   It was to be a California adventure.  The tour started out in Fresno.  FRESNO!  I know that is what I thought too.  Turns out there are these underground gardens in the heart of the city that some crazy Sicilian guy, Baldassare Forestiere built between 1900 to the late 1940’s.   As three crazy Italians ourselves we just had to check it out.    My friends if you ever find yourselves in Fresno I would say it is a must see.

The entrance to this wondrous subterranean place.

The entrance to this wondrous subterranean place.

The story goes Italian immigrant and master citrus grower Baldassare Forestiere bought a large plot of land in San Joaquin Valley where Fresno stands today in 1906.  After realizing that there was too much of a concentration of hard pan on his land to grow a citrus orchard he had the crazy idea to tunnel underneath the hard pan and grow fruit essentially underground.  What he ended up with was a forty year tunneling project that produced a 10 ache system of tunnels connecting, bedrooms, patios, living spaces, planters, citrus trees, grape vines, a ball room, and an underground aquarium.  All this he did alone with his own two hands.

One of the many maze like tunnels.

One of the many maze like tunnels.  With one of the worst flat spells I can remember going on this is as close to the tube I am going to come for a bit.

I have to admit I was not a believer until I pulled up in front of the grounds and saw the tops of large citrus trees and grape vines coming out of the ground.  I knew right then I was in for an extraordinary afternoon.  When I walked down the steps in the first tunnel I came face to face with the trunk of a 100 year old orange tree still healthy and producing fruit, UNDERGROUND!  Citrus trees are lucky to produce fruit for over twenty years let alone 100.  Forestiere must have really known his shit.

This tree is about ten feet underground

This tree is about ten feet underground

Tree top growing out of a cut out in one of the tunnels.

Tree top growing out of a cut out in one of the tunnels.

There is nothing like a good Italian when he gives into his own insanity and gets on a tear.  We will cut off our own nose to spite our face.  Forestiere couldn’t grow his orchard.  Instead of packing it up and moving someplace else he did his own thing and build an amazing architectural anomaly.   It reminded me of the old Roman caves in Italy that are used to cure meats, cheeses and age wines.  When you climb down into Forestiere’s submerged dwelling it is like you are entering into the man’s soul.  I am not going to say any more about this enchanting place that maybe you have to have some Italian blood to truly love.  Here are some of my photos of the place.

The Kitchen with a cat iron stove and oven.

The Kitchen with a cat iron stove and oven.

One of the bed quarters

One of the bed quarters

The bath tub

The bath tub

It is amazing what the human spirit is capable of when he puts his mind to it.  Forestiere’s underground gardens are a testament to such.  These days I am rather jaded so for something to grab my attention it must be a sight to be seen.  I don’t know if it is the Italian in me that loved this place so much or the eccentric or both, but I would certainly recommend a visit. The again I did also spend the majority of my adolescence hanging out in my parents basement.

Forestiere loved to make and enjoy his wine. A man after my own heart.

Forestiere loved to make and enjoy his wine. A man after my own heart.

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Glasses From the Future, NOW!!! Check Out Protos Eye Wear!!

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 2, 2013| 2 Comments »

Protos Eye Wear

Recently I was up in San Francisco for one of my usual jaunts, a vacation from my vacation so to speak, kicking it with my boy John Mauriello (for the fun behind that trip click here).  If your a regular reader of this blog then you have come across more then tale of the crazy character he is and our ridiculous antics together.   My good friend Devin once put  it frankly after hanging  out with us for 24 hours straight “I need to go home and get away from you guys.  No offense I think your both really awesome people but when you get together its intolerable.  The pair of you is enough to drive a sane man crazy.”  I implore any reader out there except for West and Kooky Kyle (cause they are out of their minds too, the four of us together has never happened, that is a force to be reckoned with.  Shit that meeting could accidentally lead to the end of the world.) to come out here and spend a weekend with Mauriello and I and test the endurance of your patience.

John and I on another SF excursion years ago

John and I on another SF excursion years ago for that adventure check this out and then use the bread crumbs to follow along with the subsequent parts of the story.

While I was up there he pulled out this pair of eye wear frames unlike anything I have ever seen before.   It was as if he had just stepped out of the Delorean with a trail flames behind the car holding the coolest pair of shades I had ever seen.  Made of a highly break resistant space age material, quality frames and a 3D printing manufacturing process that will allow its wearer to custom fit each frame to his/her face I surely thought the dude had found away to make time travel possible.  I was also a bit pissed of that, A: he embarked on a journey to the future with out me and, B: all he brought back was a pair of sunglasses.

I was about the beat his ass when he mentioned he designed them and had a hand in the company.  All I thought he did day in and day out was sit around making doodles in his note book and eating cereal.  Turns out the kid has skill.   Since then he has teamed up with another friend of mine Marc Levinson and a few others to create PROTOS EYEWEAR.  Although they have been designing and producing glasses on a small scale the past few years these guys are ready to take it to the next stage.  In order to make that happen they need your help.
Protos EyeWear2Don’t take my word for it.  Why not read the words out of the horse’s mouth or pen.  Here is what John Mauriello has to say about his en devour:

” Protos Eyewear is a company that I’ve been working on for well over two years. We’ve created a simple way of purchasing the perfect pair of eyeglasses/sunglasses made to order. In a crowdfunding campaign launched Monday, we have released a brand new line of 24 eyewear frames, along with our styling/custom fit service. We need your help in order to raise the funds to develop a web-app for our advanced custom fitting algorithm. In exchange for your contribution, we’ll be offering our glasses and a few of our other products at a highly discounted price. Our company has a rare synergy between technology, fashion, and design.

Technology:
The newest addition to the Protos Eyewear line is a service that allows a customer to order a customized pair of glasses. When ordering, the customer answers a few questions and uploads two photos of their face. From there, Protos’ software is able recommend basic frame styles based on the customer’s personality, face shape and other facial features. The chosen frame design is then altered to fit and 3D printed to order.
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With 3D printing abuzz in the news lately, Protos has applied the technology in a way that everyone can get excited about. Though many have claimed to do so, they are one of only a small handful of 3D printing companies that have created something refined enough to truly be sold as a usable, lasting product. Protos spent years working with manufacturers to develop proprietary materials and production processes that actually exceed the quality of more traditional materials used in eyewear.

Fashion: 
These frames don’t just fit well, they also flatter the wearer. Protos’ core team includes professional designers who have a deep understanding of microtrends in the fashion world. This knowledge allows Protos to develop highly resolved designs that range from classic to current, all of which are timeless. The team also includes a certified optician with decades of experience styling celebrities and consulting with world-class eyewear brands including Tom Ford, Prada and Oliver Peoples. His knowledge of frame design and how eyewear should fit on faces has been integrated into the way the Protos software works.
Protos EyeWear4

Design:

Good design is core to Protos’ philosophy and process. We has an outstanding commitment to quality control, from form language to materiality and surface finish. Most tech companies build a technology, then try to skin it with something that looks good. With Protos, every aspect of the design and user experience has been considered from the moment product development begins. We know that good design is as much about how something works as it is about how it looks. Protos’ customers are not consumers, they are discerning clients who are interested in receiving excellent service. All custom fit frames are reviewed by designers before and after they are printed. They continue to work with the customer until the frames look amazing.

Eyewear is just the beginning for Protos. We are focused on meaningful applications for 3D printing and are focused on executing them well. The goal is to open an entire world of consumer grade 3D printed products meant for discerning end users. ”

Wow talk about educational, informative and en vogue.  Thanks for those amazing words John and an amazing product.  Those of you who read here regularly know I rarely pimp products or anything for that matter.  I certainly don’t give a forum for anything I don’t personally believe in.  Protos is some quality shit right here and these guys are giving everyone an opportunity to get involved on the ground level and help bring an amazing innovation that will change eye wear as we know it to fruition.

Visit their web page today at ProtosEyeWear.com and help make a good idea become grand.  The future is now, no Delorean necessary.  Every dollar helps and these guys claim they are willing do one push up each for every buck earned.  Mauriello was looking a little soft last time I saw him and could use the muscle tone from a good spell of push ups.  I will throw in an incentive of my own: throw down a $1000 bucks or more and I will let you come spend a weekend out here in Santa Barbara, 48 hours in Fancytown with Bizarro and I.  You probably won’t remember a thing but I promise to have someone around sober enough to take fun photos like  this one:

Now tell me you don't wish you were in this picture. Give $1000 bucks or more to Protos and this dream scenario could be a reality!

Now tell me you don’t wish you were in this picture. Give $1000 bucks or more to Protos and this dream scenario could be a reality!

Seriously at least give the guys a $1.  Even my cheap, broke ass did that.   So check them out. PROTOSEYEWEAR.COM

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A Weekend in Bizarro World: Chilling in San Diego

Posted in Life, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , on July 24, 2013| 5 Comments »

Nothing like clean fun crossed up peaks at Blacks for a good session.

Nothing like clean fun crossed up peaks at Blacks for a good session.

“What are you on some kind of tour of the California coast?”  Words from my friend West just before paddling out for a fun evening session at Blacks my first day in San Diego.  Over the past two weeks I sort of have been on at the very least a California summertime wave scoring mission.  One thing I would like to claim is that I made the most out of this summer as far as surf time went.  Not having a job to go to day in and day out certainly does give one this luxury.

Chris Lisanti, Blacks Beach

Photo: Christopher Dunlea

Unlike my previous adventure up in surfing’s equivalent of Northern California (San Francisco, San Mateo, Santa Cruz) and I say that because technically San Francisco should be the end of Central California considering there is another 400 miles of coast line to go before crossing the border in Oregon.  My trip to San Diego had been spawned at the end of drunken night at the Wild Cat on my couch shooting the shit with Bizarro over a month ago.  Apparently I had agreed to go with him to Comic Con in SD from July 18-22.  Of course thanks to my impetuous SF adventure this meant I literally had been away from home for pretty much two weeks.  The last time I was on the road like this I was a professional surfer.  I felt the invigoration of freedom to cut loose, live out of suit case and crash on couches for an extended period of time(Read about my SF journey last week here).

I was a bit reluctant to get back on the road and leave the tranquility of my beautiful Santa Barbara home.  The Lisanti Palace has been refined over the years to fit my needs exquisitely.  Then again as far as consistency and quality of surf goes one really can’t beat San Diego this time of year.  Just like that I found myself on the road late Wednesday night of the 17th cruising south with Blacks Beach on my mind.

San Diego and Me

La Jolla Cove

La Jolla Cove

 

Its true I have a special place in my heart for San Diego.  It was my first experience of actual California surf as a kid and the first place I had lived in California for a brief stint ten years ago.  Since then I have just about made a surf pilgrimage there at least once a year.  The place is a surfer’s dream, and more then that a kook and avm (average surfer) paradise.  With relatively warm water most of the year, nice summers and mild winters, over 300 days of sun a year, ease of coastal/surf access, exposure to all swell type/angle, and user friendly waves its no wonder the surf population from Imperial beach to Oceanside has exploded over the last twenty years.  There is a wave for every level and style of surfing just about 365 days a year if a surfer is keen.

The crowds have become rampant just like most popular surf locales these days.  SD is for the most part the first stop the majority East Coast surfers make when they decide to migrate west to greener pastures.  For most, southern California is the perfect surfing compromise.  As for myself I decided long ago that the over crowding was too much to bare and found my way up to the central coast in search of quality over quantity.

This is a light crowd for a San Diego line up. Photo: Christopher Dunlea

This is a light crowd for a San Diego line up. Photo: Christopher Dunlea

San Diego also happens to be where Bizarro Chris grew up for the greater share of his life.  He had not been home since Thanksgiving.  I was offered my gas down covered, basic expenses and a place to stay.  I would have to be crazy to turn down such an offer.  Do I stay in Santa Barbara and drive nearly two hours everyday to surf bad to average Ventura or drive four hours to San Diego and surf fun Blacks for five days and reconnect with some of my surfing roots?

Blacks Beach
Blacks Beach

When I lived in SD I didn’t have a car and was inhabiting a residence near the La Jolla mall.  Blacks was a straight shot by bike.  It was a full on daily triathlon.  Everyday I would wake up at 6 am, get on my bike, ride four miles or so down to Scripps where I stashed my boards, then walk the beach about a mile around the cliffs to the actual break.  After the walk pull on my suit and surf for two to three hours.  On completion of my surf I would repeat the whole scenario in reverse.  Sometimes I did this twice a day.  I was in the shape of my life back then.

As a result I learned Blacks on every swell, tide and wind better then some who have lived in San Diego for twenty years.  Whenever I go back and surf the place I am in tune with her.  Blacks for me since I am constantly comparing surf breaks to women (I have a problem, “its a real disease with pills and doctors”) is like the ghetto princess from the neighborhood.  She has a nice big ass, tits, is always glad to see you and show you a good time.  Sure she isn’t model quality, but will treat you better then most.  She was my go to girl for years, until the queen of the coast, Rincon stole my heart.  Blacks has not held a grudge always fulfilling my expectations.  She still always manages to throw more then my share of set waves at me.  In return I always make her purr.

Me, doing my best to not squander any gifts Blacks decides to give me. Photo: Christopher Dunlea

Me, doing my best to not squander any gifts Blacks decides to give me. Photo: Christopher Dunlea

From almost two weeks out I knew I was going to score surf.  There was plenty of long period south swell showing and was to be in the window I was going to be there for.  Initially the swell appeared like it was going to be solid.  As time grew closer the swell’s intensity began to ease.  It does not take much to get Blacks going.  Any little bump will show a head high set or two out there.  A day or so out I decided to leave the step up at home opting to bring an extra 5’10 just in case of breakage.   Unlike the San Francisco excursion all I needed in rubber were my 3/2’s if that.

Sure enough Blacks did not disappoint.  I was graced with five days of solid surf the smallest of which was about chest to head high.  Most days conditions were clean.  Besides some NW wind swell mixing the first few days causing conditions to be solid but challenging, overall I would say I did alright.  Fuck, I surfed my brains out despite a foot injury caused on my SF drunken rampage.  Luckily it hurt more to walk then surf.  Then again the hike down and up from Blacks is none two easy for a healthy person let alone a surfer with an injured foot.  In usual Lisanti fashion I sucked it up and  made lemonade out of lemons.  You can read more on the surf sessions in detail in the July Surflog, 7/18-7/22.

The long arduous trek down to Blacks is not for the lazy.

The long arduous trek down to Blacks is not for the lazy.

It seems in the past few years downhill skaters have been testing their skills on the path. Thats some crazy shit right there.

It seems in the past few years downhill skaters have been testing their skills on the path. Thats some crazy shit right there.

Catching Up With My Boys

I just so happen to have a handful of close friends currently living in SD.  SurfingRuinedMyLife.net all star, West currently calls Pacific Beach home.  Every time that crazy fucker and I get together you can be assured something gnarly will go down especially when alcohol is involved.  This trip I must admit we kept things rather mellow between us only meeting up for a handful of sick evening surfs at Blacks.  One of which we had the entire line up to ourselves with glassy over head conditions.  I also have to give the guy props for in a matter of two years of surfing he as went from a kook on a fun shape to a performance short board and is semi-competent on it.  As per usual West will most likely join me for Thanksgiving at the Lisanti Palace in Santa Barbara, which has become a tradition at this point.

West and I embarking on the long walk down to Blacks. Photo: Christoper Dunlea

West and I embarking on the long walk down to Blacks. Photo: Christoper Dunlea

My most recent couch guy Daniel cashed out his chips up here in SB and moved down to San Diego this past June.  Who could blame him.  He found himself a decent enough job and free rent living with his brother.  Beats minimum wage and sleeping on my shitty couch any day.   He did mention he missed our nights at the Wild Cat.  If only I could remember them all.

Bizarro and I met up with Daniel at the San Diego Swap meet where literally hundreds of ghetto ass vendors peddle everything from socks, to collectibles, to appliances, to absolute trash and everything in between.  Think of it as one big janky make shift yard sale.  Normally there is nothing I love better then to walk around and haggle with people for useless junk I don’t need.  Given my current monetary situation I had no room for useless acquisitions.  Bizarro on the other hand was in peddlers heaven.  It was chill.  While he haggled Daniel and I were able to catch up.

The three of us ended the afternoon with tacos and beer at South Beach Bar and Grill in Mission Beach.  The tacos were good and beer tasty  all for a decent price in a relaxed beach front setting.  It reminded me of a typical Jersey shore spot.  Across the street there was some random pro-am going on at the pier and we happened to get there just in time for the stand up paddle division.  I could not believe what I was witnessing.  If I had an automatic weapon I probably would have started shooting people.  The competitors were pretty good in their own right, but really, STAND UP PADDLING! In a contest?  What has the world come to?  I think I need to get out of California.

Too bad we didn't buy this little number. I could have wreaked havoc at the display of kookery.

Too bad we didn’t buy this little number. I could have wreaked havoc at the display of kookery.

The Comic Con Party

Initially Bizarro and I had a slight hope we would have a chance of getting into the actual event considering two of the chicks staying with us were working it and thought they might be able to get us passes.  As the case was they could not even get passes for themselves to see the show when they were not working it.  That was fine cause after the convention center spilled out every night all those patrons found their way into all the local downtown clubs.  There was no way we were going to travel all the way to a city like San Diego and not party.

Fuck, if The Chris’ show up at your town you can count on the fact that we are going to get down as soon as the sun does.  Its true I did blow it on Thursday night.  We were suppose to meet up with Daniel in little Italy or West in PB.  I was exhausted from a double surf session and hardly any sleep the night we came in.  Couple that with my injured foot and I really needed to rest.  I know all I am reading above is pussy shit and I should have manned up, but Bizarro was not bumming on it and did not force me to man up.  You all know if called upon Chris Lisanti will always rally.
TheChrisOut

Friday night I was well rested and ready to fuck shit up.  Bizarro and I scored tuxedo jackets from a local thrift shop for cheap and new shoes.  In our usual fashion we went out all done up.  Still nursing the injury I decided it would be in my best interest to stay out of Fancytown for my own safety.  The plan was to meet up with the girls working the event, but they had other promotional work to do at the near by water front Hilton leaving us to our to own devices.

This is never a problem, Bizzaro and I get along just fine.  We were walking around the gas lamp district among all the comic book themed dressed freaks deciding on where to go.  Bizarro saw this line out in front of a club called The Tipsy Crow and thought it was going to be popping.  We got on line and were immediately ushered in by the woman at the door.  She put wristbands on us, pointed to a small stair case and told us to have a good time.  Next thing we knew we were in a private party for one of the films that was premiered at Comic Con.

Upon getting up there we noticed wait staff passing trays of food and a buffet table of appetizers.  We had no idea at this point what was going on besides the fact that we most likely were not on the guest list.  Bizarro went to the bar to get us a round and came back with this giddy smile on his face.  “Its an open bar!” he exclaimed to me.  From there it was free food and drinks all night long.  We spent the majority of the evening bullshitting about a film whose title we did not know, did not see and knew absolutely nothing about.  Most thought we were higher end producers or the like.  I think it may have been a horror film, but your guess is as good as mine.

Towards the end of the night we found our way to the club’s basement dance floor and got crazy.  After leaving the club we had no idea how we were going to get home, when the girls called and said they could give us a ride if we met them at the Hilton.  Of course we had no idea where that was and being a tad on the intoxicated side didn’t help.  We jumped into a peddi-cab figuring he would know where to go.  He took us to the wrong place and over charged us.  If it was not for Bizarro pulling me away I might have beat that guy to death, stole his wallet and dumped his bike cab into the harbor.  In the spirit of Comic Con lets just say I got Incredible Hulk angry.  Luckily we found our way and got home.

Saturday night we got a later start thanks to me getting back late from a killer session at Blacks.  Sofia one of the promo girls staying with us decided to join the group and the three of us rolled out downtown at midnight.  We expected it to be more crowded then Friday but it was empty considering the massive amount of people in town.  Later we would find out that all the best movies were going down Sunday morning causing many to either have to sleep in line out front or get to bed early.  There was still enough going on for us.

The first club we came to wanted $20 a person to get in.  I scoffed and walked away.  Finally we settled on a spot called Jimmy Loves since the door man said he would let all three of us walk in for ten since we were well dressed.  It was a pretty cool spot and was packed.  There was a decent cover band playing on a grand stage with a dance floor in front and a cool little lounge area behind it.  As a musician I highly approved of the set up of the venue.  Unfortunately the music was not really our cup of tea being mostly rock.

I had to use the restroom downstairs and when I got there I found a whole other level way more ghetto, red lighting and a dude spinning 90’s hip hop and a more diverse crowd.  I quickly ran back up stairs to get Bizarro and Sofia.  Basically the downstairs could have been the Wild Cat.  We danced the night out down there.  The drinks were strong as fuck too.  If your ever in the SD downtown gas lamp district I highly recommend both Jimmy Loves and The Tipsy Crow.

The rest of our trip was spent relaxing at Bizarro’s dad’s house.  It was a very nice place and he was a most accommodating host.  I cooked a few meals.  Got to hang and play with the coolest dog, Stella that I have ever come across.  She was so awesome it made me briefly consider dog ownership.  All and all I must say it was a great trip.

Stella and I kicking it

Stella and I kicking it

I was a little overwhelmed with how crowded San Diego has gotten in the last ten years. There was traffic everywhere we went.  People everywhere.  Construction everywhere.  I was in severe culture shock.  I have been complaining about the over crowding of Santa Barbara lately.  In comparison we are very lucky up here.  Despite coming home to an apartment covered from wall to wall in borax I was relived to get back to the Barb.  Seriously my place looked like Johnny Depp in Blow sneezed all over it.  That is a story for another day.

And the sunsets on yet another adventure in Lisanti Land

And the sunsets on yet another adventure in Lisanti Land. Photo Christopher Dunlea

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Ooops; I Dropped the Shells: A Weekend In Nor’ Cal

Posted in Life, Music, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 17, 2013| 3 Comments »

North County always reminds me that one can find empty perfection anywhere. Even in crowded ass California.

North County always reminds me that one can find empty perfection anywhere. Even in crowded ass California. Btw, its a bit bigger then it looks…

What a spectacle!?! Who what have thought such a thing would go down?  Certainly not I.  There I found myself with compatriot John on the beach at Davenport in the mist of an innocent surf check.  To be honest the surf was pretty bad at that point, the tide was a bit too high and getting fatter by the moment.  The wind had picked up out of the north west causing a bump and crumble from hell and the swell had appeared to have backed off, or was just not showing so great on the reef.  We ambled around the shingle for a bit in the hopes of seeing something magical.  What we ended up getting a look at was more like starring into the sun as she bent down to pick up a shell.  “You take a quick look and then you look away, it’s too risky otherwise”. I will just leave the rest of that up in the air for imagination and a laugh between John and I that pretty much set the pace of the entire trip.

Ahhha ha ha ha ha, pardon my brief sinister laugh.  I just was unable to contain myself.  This story all began just like many other summertime tales that involve surfing on the West Coast of the America, down off the coast of Anartica in the shape of some storm that sent crazy huge surf to South America, while gracing California with a nice groomed long period south swell.  My initial plan was to just stay home and take my chances with both Ventura and Malibu.  The period of the swell was a little long for River Mouth, but one can always find something to surf if he is keen.

Then on Tuesday July 9th the day after another less then stellar Trestles mission I found myself bitching to my boy John up in San Francisco just how much I hate the fact that I suck at surfing Lowers and dealing with the crowd there.  He mentioned the possibility of renting a car for the weekend and cruising down to either Santa Cruz or San Mateo in search of some empty reef surf.    It didn’t take much convincing to get me to make the drive north to join him in his endeavor.  Just like that I found myself on the 1o1 north heading to San Francisco.

You always see something interesting on the interstate.

You always see something interesting on the interstate.

I got up there in record time actually cracking city limits in just over four and a half hours.  Thanks to not properly following John’s directions I quickly became lost on the complete opposite side of the city.  Luckily with a little help from John I was back in the right direction and at his place only  with a thirty minute detour.  It was good to see my old friend and former surf shop minion.  I seem to find my way up there to see him once a year these days during either the spring or summer.  Santa Barbara pretty much sucks in the summer time anyway being that there is no surf to speak of and the majority of the town’s population, primarily made up of students bails for the summer.  Plus I don’t work and have nothing better to do either.

Early to Bed, Early to Surf

Just another empty cove off PCH. This one offered a very tricky to access right wedge.

Just another empty cove off PCH. This one offered a very tricky to access right wedge.

There are some places in the world where the surf actually stays clean all day or is better in the afternoon.  California on the whole with certain exceptions is not one of them.  This means if one wants to catch the best surf of the day he usually has to get up with the sunrise.  At one time in my life I was quite the early bird.  I used get up at 5:30 every morning when I was in my late teens early twenties, then it became 6:30, then between 7 and 8.  These days if I find that if I am out of bed and brushing my teeth by 8:30 I call it a “damn patrol”.  Hooray for laziness or maybe I just like surfing shitty blown out waves so that I can blame the conditions for the fact that I suck at surfing.  Whatever the case I can’t tell you the last time I have been up before 8 am for a surf.

As it turned out John was short a roommate in his place at the moment thus I actually had my own room instead of a spot on the couch.  I don’t really know if you could call it a room for that matter.  It was more like a walk in closet with a nasty stained full sized mattress on the floor that may or may not have wished to give me a social disease or two.  All of that was renting at the “bargain price” of $950 a month and I thought Santa Barbara was insane.  I have slept on a lot worse in my past.  Around 7:30 am there was a knock at my door and it was John looking to shred.

It was fucking freezing out.  I know Mark Twain once penned “The coldest winter I ever spent was in San Francisco” but this was ridiculous.  I am lucky I didn’t freeze to death in my sleep.  My poor dick had just about crawled up into my body like a scared little turtle.  What better way to warm up then to pull on a 4/3 and boots and jump into equally freezing water.  Oh and I guess one can completely forget about seeing the sun up there.  The entire time I was in the city it was foggy and grey.

Lefts galore. Just another empty beach break.

Lefts galore. Just another empty beach break.

We loaded up and headed down the PCH to find something to surf since Ocean Beach was not doing it one bit.  That was fine by me.  I love that stretch of coast  between San Francisco and Santa Cruz.  The Pacific Coast Highway just weaves in and out of all these cool pristine beaches, coves, points, reefs and river mouths.  On the whole most are unscathed by the stain of man.  Its food for the soul in my book.  The thing about this coast is that there are actually so many options to choose from it can drive a surfer mad.  My rule of thumb is never drive away from something fun.

From the get go we had Waddel Creek in north Santa Cruz County in mind because of its variety.  The place has an array of reef peaks, a river mouth peak and a beach break all with in walking distance of one another.  There is something there to suit any surfer of any level.  For the entire trip the place did not disappoint.  From fun rip-able reefy lefts to left beach break keggers, to kill-able walls to boost-able stupid close outs.  It was a party that allowed us two very keen sessions.

A kegger about to scream down the line unridden at Waddel Creek.

A kegger about to scream down the line unridden at Waddel Creek.

Thanks to hard afternoon on shores we had to settle for a small protected cove in San Mateo County called Grey Whale Cove.  This wave was average at best and reminded me lots of Mesa Lane here in Santa Barbara.  It was consistent and had some really good corners.  I had two good sessions there, where poor John on the other hand had a hate session.  All and all I would say surfing wise I could not complain.  For details on these sessions consult the July ’11 Surflog dates 7/11-7/15.

Grey Whale Cove, this place looked like Point Dume except it broke more like Mesa Lane.

Grey Whale Cove, this place looked like Point Dume except it broke more like Mesa Lane.

Fancytown is a State of Consciousness (or lack there of), Not a Specific Location

Now how could I ever visit a major city or anyplace with booze for that matter and not party?  Friday night after an amazing day of surfing, charged up, John and I bought a bottle of Bacardi from the corner bodega and decided to cut loose on the town.  Unfortunately time and bus schedules were not on our side.  We had to make due with the legendary (according to Kooky Kyle, whom I found out had never actually been there) Buck Shots, John’s old college hang out.  College season is over at the moment thus leaving us in a dive bar with a barely palatable DJ, dingy picnic tables across the bar, dead animals on the wall and two forms of skee ball.  Shit, I might as well have been in a shit hole in Asbury Park, New Jersey.

Speaking of dead animals here is a picture of a sea otter skeleton that we decided to put sandals on.

Speaking of dead animals here is a picture of a sea otter skeleton that we decided to put sandals on.

I got wasted so who really fucking cared in the end anyhow.  I went to the bar to order a drink.  They had $6 double shots of Bacardi.  As the bar tender was pouring the top fell off the bottle and I ended up with a brimmed glass.  He was going to pour it out and start a fresh one.  Luckily I caught him and got way more then I bargained for.  From then on I was on the out skirts of Fancytown the rest of the night.  Besides a game of skee ball against John, which I got my ass whooped in I would say it was a most uneventful night.

Saturday night one of John’s friends was throwing a birthday party in the Mission.  We assumed it was going to just be an apartment event on the small side and in my opinion lame.  When we got there the party was in an auto body shop with cars and everything.  Apparently they rented out the whole space for the night.  It was packed and there was an open bar.  Things were looking up.

The bar was packed so we ran across the street and bought a large flask of Captain  Morgan to satiate.  It was not long before I was in full on Fancytown and not long after that when I became the president.  At one point towards the end of the night I found myself behind the bar downing whatever was alcoholic, just fiending.  That was about the last thing I remember before winding up in a puddle of my own vomit on the sidewalk in front of John’s apartment.  I totally ruined my suit.  From what I heard I was pretty much a full fledged shit show and John was barely able to get me home.

Next morning I woke up around 1 pm still drunk and an absolute mess.  John had this look mortification in his eyes, still a bit taken aback never having seen me in full on Fancytown before.  As the day wore on and I sobered up I found that I must have hurt my foot in one of my falls on the way home.  There was no surfing that day for I could barely walk let alone surf.  I  probably would have drowned. John’s friend Marc said he got “white girl drunk” that night.  I suppose then I must have been crack whore drunk. You have to pay hard to play hard sometimes.

Styling in my suit before Fancytown took over. Lets just say the majority of that outfit found it's way into the trash.

Styling in my suit before Fancytown took over. Lets just say the majority of that outfit found it’s way into the trash.

The Impromptu Jam

Sitting at John’s kitchen table hating my life Sunday afternoon I noticed he had picked up his roommate’s base and began noodling around.  His roommate, Jesse got behind the drum kit and shit got real.  Jesse had a saxophone and although a beat to shit student alto with a crap mouth piece and tattered reed I decided to pick it up and give it a whirl.  It had been two years since I have jammed with anyone and John and I have never played together in all the years we have been friends.

Sure we played nothing earth shattering and most of the time it was out of sync, out of tune and out of tune.  I was still drunk for most of it and was just thriving in the moment.  I think if we laid tape there would have been a riff or two worth something.  We jammed out on “I want you back” by the Jackson 5 for like ten minutes that sounded pretty tight.  After years of lots of serious play it was great to just kick back and make some noise.  Almost made me stoked I drank to much to surf that day.

All and all despite some adversity and a port-a-potty or two from hell it was a “most excellent adventure”.  Life can get pretty stagnant if you stay in one place all the time.  Every so often even if its only a few hundred miles away I must change things up a bit.  One thing is for sure when I ever I leave Santa Barbara it feels that much better to get back.  When I got home I cooked an amazing Shrimp Scampi (click here for my Scampi recipe) for both Heather and Bizarro and all was well, business as usual.  I am actually headed to San Diego with Bizarro for the next four days for some surf, party and Comic Con fun.  Look for a fun filled adventure blog on that trip soon or follow along with the surf log while I am there.
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The Tale of a Solid South Swell

Posted in Anger, Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 12, 2013| Leave a Comment »

The-Wedge

I have had many request from all of my of my friends that I get off my lazy ass and do a bit more writing.  Some wanted horrific tales from the vault of the Lisanti Past, others were looking for recipes, and then some just wanted some new adventure tales.  I hope over the coming weeks to make everyone happy and a bit disturbed by the content as usual.  I thought I would start with the tale of a recent Lisanti adventure, a common California adventure at that; Chasing a solid south swell.

Summertime in coastal California is not quite what all the songs, pictures, media, movies and television would have you believe. Most of the time the weather is foggy, damp and cold. The ocean cold and windy.   The surf, unless you live in San Diego or Orange county is less then amiable.  Up here in Santa Barbara unless you have a boat, access to the ranch or a plane ticket to Indo you might as well put your surf board away and take up lawn bowling.  Unfortunately for me I have none of the above and left my bocce set at home when I moved from NJ.

If one of you readers wants to send me a bocce kit I promise to drink one for you at the Wild Cat!

If one of you readers wants to send me a bocce kit I promise to drink one for you at the Wild Cat!

What do I do?  I fucking get in my car and I drive at least 45 miles a day to surf sub par surf in a frustrating crowd.  Wait, isn’t that what the California dream is?   Shit folks the California dream ceased to be a dream 60 years ago if it ever really existed.  Its more like the California nightmare now.  We all know I love to suffer.  Actually this season has not been as bad as usual.  We had a month of NW wind swell that gave consistent surf and even a few epic days with some south swell thrown in for good measure. Check out the May edition of the Surflog for more on that.  In my book there are few things sweeter then a late season NW.

When the Queen looks like this you would have to be crazy to go anyplace else...or would you?

When the Queen looks like this you would have to be crazy to go anyplace else…or would you?

This story begins on May 28th 2013 down near Antarctica.  Antarctica?!? WTF! Truth be told that is where most south swells that grace California with their loveliness begin.  Of course on the 28th a south swell was the last thing on my mind.   I was too busy capitalizing on local wind swell to even notice any action in the south pacific.  Then a few days later Surfline.com had a feature on this crazy swell that rocked Tahiti.  At that point my attention was grabbed and I knew it was only a matter of time before it would show here.  From Tahiti the swell traveled to Hawaii giving the boys on the South Shore some fun ones.  Once in Hawaii it was only a couple of days.

By June 6th front runners began to show up.  The morning was still a bit down thus I decided to sleep in hoping for some action in the afternoon.  Solimar Beach was the spot for me after a great deal of deliberation.  This time of year surf is hard to come by and the wrong decision is a fate worse then death.  Every wave squandered is a flat day you will be kicking yourself in the near future.  I really wanted to utilize this swell to its fullest extent.  The reef had some solid rights to be had with a very light crowd.  I always seem to surf Solimar on the beginning of  large south swell.  It is a cool wave that bends around a horse shoe cobble stone reef usually covered by sand.  From the beach it always looks pretty mushy which keeps the crowd down. Actually its a pretty fast bowly wave when your on it.  It sort of reminds me of Noosa a little bit.

I got a solid session in and felt although deeming it “the best of the worst” a rather fun session.  The next morning things really began to get big.  Unfortunately for me too big for my usual south swell jaunts in the area.  When I went to bed I was dreaming of all time Santa Clara.  Instead I was faced with walled close outs and strange wind.  I wanted to go to Malibu and most likely should have.  I let the fact that it was a Friday and the immense crowds that goes with it keep me at home.  Later I would find out that even though the crowd sucked there were still plenty of waves.  Once again after lots and lots of checking  I found myself settling for the “best of the worst” at Pitas Point.  Through my binoculars down the beach it looked like it was firing.  After paddling my boy Ryan and I would soon find things to be a bit more sectiony then we would have liked, not to mention very inconsistent.

The only really worthy session of September looked something like this only bigger!

This the sort of Santa Clara I was dreaming of…

I had always heard these rumors up here that El Capitan, one my favorite right hand point breaks actually will see surf on a large south swell.  Apparently it sneaks through the gap between the Santa Cruz and San Miguel Islands.   I needed to see if the rumors were true and this swell seemed perfect for that.  I got up there a little later then I should have thanks to some chores that needed doing.  Afraid I had missed my window I was walking  to check it when a stoked older dude parked in front of me yelled “get your board and go dude, its on”.  Like that I found myself trotting down the trail.  When I emerged from the woods sure enough there were waves!  An older guy from Santa Barbara told me once while hanging out in the car park at Manu Bay in Raglan, New Zealand that one can tell a good point from a great point by how it holds its shape no matter what the swell angle.

El Capitan did just that.  It was only around chest to head high with a light crowd of local vets and very inconsistent, but my friends it was perfect.  I only caught 9 waves that session.  6 out of the 9 were wonderful keepers.  I can surf El Cap so well, I guess anyone can cause it is so perfect.  It is just one of those waves that makes anyone feel like Kelly Slater on it.  That is until you see Kelly Slater surf it…  Anyhow it was just one of those magical sessions that make you remember why it was you started surfing in the first place.  Later I would hear that the session of the day went down at C street that evening.  Fuck it, I hate that wave anyway.

God damn, why do all these swells have to fall on the weekend and a weekend where I had at least two party obligations to fill. A boys night on Friday with Bizarro and my boy Daniel’s going away party, which I was throwing for him at the Wild Cat.  As a result morning sessions were completely out of the question.  I know some surfers are reading this right now thinking “I can’t believe Lisanti is blowing it like that”, while I see it as a balance between the two worlds I exist in.  Balance my friends is everything in life.  It only took me 32 years to realize that.  Man cannot live by surfing alone.

Saturday I found myself a bit more hung over then I would have liked (still have not figured out that balance thing when it comes to alcohol consumption) causing a very late start.  I was still a bit sick to my stomach as I climbed the dunes at New Jetty where I heard the morning was near to all time.  There were long lines coming through, but overall things looked a bit soft and still very inconsistent.  My boy Pat hit me up that he was in Malibu all morning and was about to go back to surf Leo Carrillo.

I don’t go to Malibu on the weekend, ever!  He claimed the crowd was not bad and given I didn’t really have a better option I jumped in the car with him.  You know what it was a great call.  I got to surf the best Leo I have ever surfed.  By Leo standards and a weekend the crowd was not bad at all.  It was tough to get a set wave off the old guys and long boarders.  That was fine cause I enjoy the inside double ups better anyway, plus the sets were too big and most closing out.  I managed to put on a very strong backside performance holding it down for the goofy foot contingent.  Fuck, give me a wally lined up right any day.  That shit is my bread and butter.  Later Pat and I had a look at Hueneme Pier and he was frothing.  It looked decent enough.  I had to get back to the Barb for Daniel’s party.  It went down without a hitch.

By this point I was dead set on a Lower Trestles mission.  I had not been there since ’11 and I was thinking Monday would be the day.  I texted Trevor and planted the seed in his head.  My tires are bald on my car at the moment so the only way I was going to be able to partake in such an ordeal was if I had a driver.  Sunday I was in bad shape.   I cut down on the party and my body has totally lost its tolerance to take a beating and keep on.  I heard New Jetty was on again that morning.  I headed there for low tide.  Although very inconsistent there were a handful of decent lefts coming in.  I paddled it.   There were a few fun ones to be had among the lulls.  Later that night I returned home to a text from Trevor that he was in for Lowers.

The reality of surfing Lowers.

This is what a Lowers crowd looks like

Monday morning we made  the three hour drive south in high spirits.  We got there and it was way more crowded then I had hoped for.  As a matter of fact I can’t remember ever seeing that many cars parked on the San Clemente side.  It was decent Lowers in its own right.  The crowd was miserable and sets inconsistent.  That is a very bad combination.  My stoke was gone and part of me wanted to jump back in the car and just drive another 45 minutes south to Blacks Beach.  It was Trevor’s first time and who am I to rob him of a bad surf experience.  We paddled.  Despite a pack of annoying groms training for nationals next weekend we both found a few keepers.

Who can really hate on an entire day spend on the beach with your bud?  I fucking can.  I got sun burned.  My eyes hurt from all the sun and as of press time my back is sore from carrying all my shit down there, my neck stiff and my fucking knees hurt from too many really bad frontside air reverse attempts cause I suck at surfing.  In all seriousness it was a fun day and I am glad I went to remind me why I never go there.   At the moment it is flat with not much happening for at least a week.  Fiji just got some sick waves for the contest (congrats Kelly on another mind blowing victory) so its only a matter of days before we see the remnants of that swell. For more details on the surf sessions, party or swell visit the June Surflog.

Here's to the next good South swell and Go Slater for number 12!

Here’s to the next good South swell and Go Slater for number 12!

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Chef for a Day

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged , , , , , on April 12, 2013| 2 Comments »

Westmont Flyer

 

About a week ago I was at work chopping onions and crying my eyes out when I felt the presence of someone standing behind me.  Sure enough it was my head boss.  I assumed I was going to get scolded for a variety of reasons or instances, which most likely would have been warranted.  Expecting the worst I put on my George Costanza frustrated face preparing to pretend like I a gave a shit.

To  my surprise instead of it being the usual negative feed back I have come to love I was asked to come up with and execute an Italian menu for a special event at the Westmont Dinning Commons.  My first thoughts were “awesome more shit I have to do for way too little money”.  Then I warmed up to the idea and decided to really give it a go.  I have been boasting for years that if I was given the shot I could turn out a scrumptious meal.  Finally I was handed just that.

I sat down with my friend and Sous Chef Chantelle and we figured out a good, feasible, cost effective menu.  I am not one to use my own personal recipes with anyone especially for commercial purposes. Those are mine for my restaurant if I ever decide to be ambitious again.   My heart was in this project and I committed two of my original dishes. By the weekend I was rather excited although a bit nervous.  We always do special events like this at Westmont and on paper they sound amazing, but in reality by the time they get to the front line it is far from what we had hoped it to be.

One of the Sausage Sicilian Pizzas

One of the Sausage Sicilian Pizzas

Wednesday was the big day.  We had Sicilian style Sausage, Pepperoni and Cheese pizzas for our  pizza station, an authentic Anti Pasto Salad on the salad station, Fettuccine Florentine on the saute station, Chicken Parmigiana Sandwiches on the grill station.  On top of that there was Chicken Marsala over spaghetti.  I did my own personal Pasta alla Rossado and Eggplant La Fresca as well.  Chantelle was amazing in helping make my vision come to fruition.  If it was not for her hard work and organization I don’t think I could have pulled it off.

The Anti Pasto Salad

The Anti Pasto Salad

She had everything prepped out the day before, a strategy and a check list.   And ff course the infallible help from all of the other cooks in the kitchen with out whom this task would have been impossible.  When I first walked into the kitchen Wednesday morning I was a bit apprehensive about how things were going to go.  In the end we all pulled it off and considering all the positive feed back I got on the entire meal I must say even my negative ass would have to deem it a success.

Fettuccine Florentine

Fettuccine Florentine

Italian-Day-Line

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Precariously Perched

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on April 3, 2013| 2 Comments »

ONE MOTHER FUCKING BLOG IN THE ENTIRE MONTHS OF BOTH FEBRUARY AND MARCH!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!

Lisanti in a Tree
How fucking lazy is this guy?  I guess you would all be correct in these accusations.   I really had no good reason not to write other then the fact that I just couldn’t come up with anything worth while to write about.  I thought just as I have the past two months I would bring everyone up to speed on just exactly what has been going on here in Lisanti Land.  So here goes.

Chefing it Up

Or a lack there of.  Well last month I had this bull shit going on with Sodexo where they were actually robbing me of over $250 a pay check.  After nearly three weeks of phone calls, fights, death threats on  my end I was finally cut a check of over a thousand dollars.  After taxes that amounted to just around $800.  Thank you Uncle Sam for taking my hard earned money and doing nothing with it (who am I kidding I don’t work very hard for my money at all.).  Thank you Sodexo for lumping it into one big check so that I could get twice the amount of taxes on it.  Isn’t America a great country?

As of press time Sodexo still owes me $254.14 of which I am just too damn lazy to go after at the moment.  The rest of my job well lets just say it is the same bull shit it has been for the last 4 years.  Then again how can one really complain about a position where he pretty much gets paid to hang out all day and cook the occasional piece of food.  I just about found the food service equivalent of the gas station.

The Ladies Man

I don’t know if one could truly call me this, but I guess I do get around a bit.  I mentioned at the end of last month’s update that I had rekindled a lost romance from a few years ago.  A month later I must admit that maybe there is a reason things went south the first time around.  Mainly because things never “went south” if you catch my drift.  Yeah I know I’m insatiable.  In all seriousness she was a fine girl and all, but just not the one for me.

Things were actually going well for a couple of weeks.  Then courtesy of an illness on her part I had not heard from her for about eight days and deemed her dead.  When I finally did hear from her I ended up seeing her once, got stuck walking her shitty fucking dogs (we all know what a fan I am of doggies) and being scolded for not having any ambition in life.  I have to say I was rather fed up and disgusted by the whole ordeal.  Then we played phone tag for about a week or longer at which point I just decided to let it burn.

In the interim during that eight day period when I thought the above mentioned party had died I met another member of the female persuasion.  Where did I meet this one you ask?  At the Wild Cat of course.  I actually owe the whole thing to Bizarro.  We were suppose to meet at the Kitty a few Saturdays ago.  Bizarro got too drunk and never made it. No big surprise there.  I was flying solo thus more inclined to go and meet new people.  I have been seeing this new girl ever since.  Things are running alright so far.  I suppose time will tell.

Dirty Laundry
Dirty Laundry

I sort of feel like I have been spending the bulk of my spare time doing laundry, thinking about doing laundry, hustling quarters in order to run the washer and dryer, folding laundry, going to the dry cleaners, mending damaged laundry, at the moment I am waiting for my laundry to finish while I write this.  It never ends.  Then I turn around and my hamper is full again.  If I don’t have laundry to do Bizarro is over here doing his laundry since the machines in his building sucks ass or my girl is here mooching my change to do her own laundry being that she does not have a laundry room where she lives.  At this rate I should just move into a god damn laundromat.

Doing laundry is always a battle here in my complex since there is only one washer and dryer.  Each is a buck twenty five meaning a $2.50 round trip.  I always assumed laundry room etiquette to be like bar etiquette with a pool table.  If there are quarters on the table then you have fives on it.  The other day someone was using the washing machine but I really had to do a wash of my work clothes.  Since I was doing nothing but watching all of the Lord of the Rings movies in sequence I figured I would wait it out. I decided that I would put my quarters in the slots of the machine thus indicating that I had the next load.  Thirty minutes passed and I still heard the washer going and now the dryer too.

Mind you I live directly in front of the laundry room and can hear everything when I open my front door.  I ran over to the washer and sure enough some infidel stole my change and used my wash.  I wen back into my house and pulled a full half gallon of cranberry juice out of the fridge and dumped it into their wash.  It was a load of whites.  Don’t fuck with laundry room etiquette or Lisanti justice will bite you in the ass.

Surfing

My whole entire winter season came down to a total of 45 minutes at Pitas on March 7th, my sister’s birthday as a matter of fact.  It was about as good as Pitas gets and I must say if the wind had held out I totally would have called in sick to work.  Alas it did not.  I will take those few amazing rides to the bank, especially in this winter of let down and heart break.  You can read the March ’13 edition of the Surflog for more on that. Besides that session March was another blow out.

Sleepy Time Nick Died

Remember my old roommate Sleepy Time Nick from the fall of ’11?  It’s ok if you don’t he was easily around 4 roommates ago.  They do pass through the Palace fast now don’t they. Anyhow Nick lived here for about four months of pure insanity.  During his tenure Lisanti Land was in a bit of disarray.  Anyway Nick was a sweet kid who got mixed up in some rough drug problems.   Ultimately we had to oust him from the apartment as a result of such.  He ended up moving to England with his dad and getting clean for nearly 18 months.  He faltered and died in March of a Heroin overdose.  Although Nick and I had our problems I can’t help but be saddened by his untimely death.

If there is one thing I have realized is that we all walk a very fine line between sanity and insanity, life and death.  Some of us are more precariously perched then others in this life.  My life has always teetered on the bring of destruction  yet stayed on the line.  At the moment I cannot help but feel a strong sense of tedium with my current direction.  Then again I really have not had a direction to move in over the past five years or so.  I find myself at a loss of whether it is a good tedium or bad.  To me the word tedium by itself just seems negative.  Tedium may just be the theme of 2013….

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