Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Life’ Category

Time to Myself

Posted in Anger, Deep Thoughts, Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 6, 2013| 10 Comments »

Where have I been?

Why have I not written?

Whats going on?

Whats going wrong?

Hmmmm…Its been a while my friends since I took the time to sit down and write an actual blog piece.  As always I have tried to continuously on a daily basis update the surflog, which at this point has mostly become my day to day journal.  There is always some type of worthwhile reading there if your bored, be it stoke, refreshing, ignominious or out right appalling.  As I have said since I started this thing back in 2006 I am who I am. I have not ever made excuses for myself or on my behavior and I am not about to start now.  If you don’t like it you don’t have to read it.  Besides I believe the true judge of a person’s character is not on one action to the next but the overall purpose and intention of that individual.

We all make mistakes it is what makes us human and so endearing.  Its how we decide to rectify and learn from those mistakes that is important.  Being able to admit one’s own accountability is the key to living free.  I come across so many people in my day to day who love to point the finger, pass the buck and play the blame game.  It was “his or her fault”, “this happened because of that”and my personal favorite “I don’t know?”.  It took me nearly 32 years to figure out my biggest problems in life stemmed from the fact that I was constantly caught up on who to blame for my impediments instead of how to fix them.

I have been spending an assemblage of time thinking about the above and many more aspects of my life the past few months.  The month of February really threw me for a loop in many ways both positive and negative.  I was left ultimately at a good deal of times completely at awe of what was going on around me or dumbfounded or both.   I found myself swept away on a whirlwind of a ride physically, mentally, emotionally and financially.   Up until this moment I was at a loss of the proper words to express myself here and too mind boggled to write the usual drivel I put out.  So sorry if I left everyone in the dark.  I will try to write a little bit more going forward.  For now here are some of the highlights I failed to convey in the 28 days that passed.

The Chris & Chris Birthday Extravaganza, Feb 2nd-3rd
Chris & Chris
It all started back in the fall when I constantly kept bumping into this dude either on the walk to, at or coming home from the club.  Turned out he enjoyed the party as much as I did, could keep up with me and most nights completely out drink me.  His name is Chris also, lives across the street from me in the identical building as me, in the exact same apartment as me but backwards and it also is apartment A.  He is born on February 5th, Im born on the 4th and we are both from New York originally.  As a result of this strange coincidence he became known as Bizarro Chris.

It did not take long for us to pair up and thanks to that partnership quickly climbed the ranks of the social echelon of the Wild Cat.   It only made sense then that we should throw a macker of a birth bash.  We invited many, some came.  The party started at 9pm at my house, moved on to the Wild Cat round 11ish where we did double bottle service and had two booths reserved.  We did a bottle of Bacardi for my table and a bottle of Jack for his.  All I can say is the night at the club was top shelf and everyone in attendance had a hell of a good time.  Then it was back to my house where the party ran till 5:30am Sunday.

Yes I did manage to make it to work by 12:30pm only a half hour late and we went out that night as well.  My 32nd birth day was one for the books for sure.  If you missed it then you blew it cause if you were someone I knew then you were invited.  There is always next year.

Show Me the Money (or lack there of)

This past month also reminded me just how much I hate the institution of money and the extent of which it can drive a person crazy.  There was a time many years ago when I was preoccupied with the idea of amassing great wealth.  Owning big houses and driving nice cars.  Then I realized that in order to do that you have to be a deceitful,  corrupted, perverse and completely selfish individual stepping on as many people and ruining as many lives as necessary.  Hey it’s cool, why share the wealth when one person can have enough money to make thousands live comfortably.

As for myself I have learned to live and thrive in a rather low maintenance, low budget, high out put existence.   I am referring to my new ability and appreciation for living with in one’s own means.  Years ago I lived beyond my means and it ran me to ruin.  I could not handle the stress or the run around.  I also could not justify spending all my time working when there was a wonderful world out there to enjoy and explore.  Yeah I don’t want what most would call nice things.

Instead I have useful things.  I have a reliable car that gets me to where I have to go.  I live in a very adequate apartment that to me is a paradise.  We know it here at SurfingRuinedMyLife.net as The Lisanti Palace.  It may not be a palace in any form or tense of the word, but just ask anyone who has spent anytime here they will tell you it felt more like home then the Taj Mahal.  For me true wealth is found in a fun surf session, a walk on the beach at sunset, my weekly dinner parties where I find myself nearly brought to tears as I am surrounded by such a wonderful collection of people all who have learned to embrace a splendid evening of good old fashioned human interaction.

The finer things in life I like to call it.  You can’t put a price on that. It seems certain rich people have decided to put a price on my life.  It all started in January and has steadily exacerbated since.  Its funny how people who already have so much have no problem taking more from those who have so little.  Maybe it was because I was happy and content with the little I had?  All I can say is they can take everything material away from me and it is not going to change who I am and it is certainly not going to change how I live.  CHRIS LISANTI IS NOT FOR SALE.  That is all I am at liberty to say on this matter.  Just know at the moment there are a number of greedy people looking to cut up my assets like a key lime pie.

The 401K Debacle

I don’t even know where to begin on this one.  Lets go back almost 4 years ago when I first started working for Sodexo over at the Westmont College Kitchen.  I was bright eyed and bushy tailed, thinking this was the start of a new and prosperous future.  Turns out the whole thing was a crock of shit.  I just fell into a dead end job where my efforts go unappreciated, my vigor misunderstood and my good natured feedback ignored.  I guess for the first time in my life I finally found out what it means to be just another cog in the corporate machine.

Although not super stoked I was alright with it.  The job paid my bills, allowed me to have some fun with cooking and gave me plenty of free time to enjoy life in a rather stress free environment.  On February 14th that was all about to change because this particular day was a Thursday.  Thursdays are paydays at my work.  I actually forgot to grab my pay check not getting it till the following Monday since I don’t cash that shit till Tuesday anyway. Its self preservation. If I go out to the club with a full bank account on Friday come Monday I wont have a full bank account.

Upon taking my check to the bank I noticed it was for half the amount it should have been.  I frantically studied the pay stub for answers.  There it was right in the little box reserved for my 401k deduction.  Normally that deduction is 3% and since the fund will match that at the end of the year its like free money making my participation in the program a no brainer even if the odds of me living to age 59.5 are slim.  After that three percent there was a new deduction called “401k supp” and that took more then half my pay check.

I went to see my boss about it and he stared at me blankly and replied “well that could be problem”.  First I called ADP the company responsible for our payroll. Two Indian call centers later and one American operator I finally got to speak to someone in charge, or so they would have me believe.  I was told it was an error impart to the 401k trust, which is handled by the investment firm INT.  I called these guys up and a twenty minute death hold and two supervisors later that all they took was 3% and it must be a payroll error within Sodexo.

I then called the Sodexo payroll department and they blamed INT who then blamed Sodexo and so on and so forth.  This went on for a matter of three weeks, meanwhile every week half my paycheck was mysteriously vanishing into thin air.  As of press time I am owed $866.22.  I barely made rent, can’t pay any of my bills, don’t have enough to even buy food. I guess the joke is one me.  I was told last Wednesday the matter was being handled and “someone would contact me”.  Well no one  contacted me, the money was not refunded and I am almost certain come Thursday I will be out another 25o bucks making my total loss over $1000.

Yeah I am a little stressed, but mostly saddened by the whole ordeal.  Now I am trying to find a labor lawyer who would be willing to work probono so I can sue.  I hate litigation and the painstaking process involved.  All the while my bills are still going unpaid.  At the moment my back is up against the wall.  If anyone out there has the power to help me fight this thing please hit me up cause right now I am David trying to fight Goliath but I don’t even have a sling shot.

Some Positive Stuff

Surfing

February decided to bring on a few decent days of surfing.  It also saw a revitalized Chris Lisanti and I managed to put in some real water time again.  You can read the February 2013 page of the Surflog for more on that and look for a surfing recap blog soon.

No matter what life throws at me there will always be surfing.

No matter what life throws at me there will always be surfing.

I Met a Girl

Ok, you got me I meet lots of girls, but its rare I meet one that is actually worthy of my esteem enough to call her a woman.  Its even more rare when I feel so inclined as to want to call her my own.  Ironically this happened on the 15th right after the whole 401k anal raping started.  I was out at the Wild Cat in my black on black pinstripe suite, black tie, red shirt for the Wild Cat’s annual Red and Black party.  I am not going to lie I looked pretty fucking killer.

As I walked into the club I was caught by a flash from my past.  At the bar there was this really beautiful also very well dressed chick I recognized well.  It had been nearly two years since we had out little fling together, which due to a lack of propriety on my part (big surprise there) ended a bit ugly.  It had been almost a year since I had seen her and I didn’t even think she lived in Santa Barbara anymore.

Shit she was in my club (if I was on foursquare I would def be the mayor there) the least I could do was cordially greet her.  We exchanged the usual niceties such a meeting requires in proper society and went our own way.  For me at the Cat on a Friday night I have a lot of rounds to make and drink for that matter.  Seeing her had me lost in the rapture of “what if “.  I don’t dwell on such form of thinking that often, but to be honest our falling out was one of those moments that from time to time I did meditate on.

I always say you miss 100% of the pitches you don’t swing at and never give up.  I took a page out of my own book walked up to her and asked if I could call her sometime.  She complied.  Since then I must say things between us have been going rather well.  That is all I am going to say about it here cause I don’t want to jinx it.

There you have it 2,000, words on why there were no blogs in February.  Unless your special it should now be obvious that I had a rather full plate this past month.  Cut me some slack with all the “Where have all the blogs gone crap”.  I do hope to get more writings up here in March.  Don’t lose the faith cause I sure haven’t.  Thanks as always for reading.  It warms my heart to know all of you are out there.

 

Read Full Post »

The Challenges Life Presents

Posted in Anger, Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged , , , , , , , on January 29, 2013| Leave a Comment »

Some days I wonder why I even get out of bed in the morning.  Things would be far better if I just stayed under my warm covers on my comfortable mattress with my cat sleeping at my feet.  Life would just be so much easier.   Yet every morning I drag myself out of bed and for the most part force myself to make the most of the meager sphere of influence I exist in.

Sure my life seems pretty simple to all of you sitting at home or in your cubicle reading my drivel to kill time or what have you.  Most people have responsibilities, a sense purpose or even just a need for a sense of purpose to keep them going.  I don’t have that.  I get up day in and day out, punch the clock for eight and half hours at a mindless job that a monkey could do if properly trained and sanitized.  Meanwhile over the past four years I have watched my sanity slowly slip away.  This is another entity I am very ok with.  A sane man in an insane world cannot be sane.

The majority view me as insane yet I view the majority and how they behave to be crazy.  Just like that I mentally dropped out of society.  The problem with living in your own world is the consequences of what happens when your fantasy world collides with the “real world”.  This is a terrible predicament I find myself constantly reliving over and over again.  Two steps forward followed by another ten steps back.  I am not going to lie most of, if not all of it is my own damn fault.  It took me thirty years of my life to finally take the blame for my own actions.

I am a bad decision maker.  Let me rephrase that.  I don’t think they are bad decisions they just don’t fall into line with those of the mainstream thus ultimately that difference of view I have on things makes them bad decisions.  One can always justify his own actions in his own mind after all.  From time to time these bad decisions come back to haunt me. It is for that reason I shall always be caught in the rapture of myself.

At the moment I sort of have a pile of bullshit suffocating me.  It is taking all of my physical, emotional and mental strength to keep on.  If I have not had much to say here I am sorry for that.  I have been advised that it would be very adverse to talk about what is going on in a public forum such as this.  For now I need to keep it all inside, which has never been healthy .  I promise that when everything is said and done I will elaborate in many, many words here.

Just know that I am fine and surviving.  This too will pass.  It is not for those in troubled times to remorse on how they got there, it is only for them to use the time they are given to do their best to persevere   What I will say is that I have not been hitting the bottle as a result of what is going on and nor have I been tempted to.  I think I crawled into a bottle long enough over the past two years and now that I have crawled out I am not about to fall back in.  I will try to keep writing my usual stuff here.  Just know that I have a lot on my plate at the moment and it is taking up the bulk of my concentration.  As always if your hard up I do update the surflog every day.

Yeah this pretty much describes how I feel at the moment, damned if I do, damned if I dont.

Yeah this pretty much describes how I feel at the moment, damned if I do, damned if I dont.

Read Full Post »

The Best of 2012 On SurfingRuinedMyLife.net

Posted in Life, Surfing on January 16, 2013| 1 Comment »

2012 came and went and what a crazy year it was.  The world was suppose to end just a few weeks ago, it didn’t.  A freak of a storm plowed through the town I grew up in nearly wiping  it off the map.  Here in Santa Barbara it was business as usual in a town where very little changes from year to year with the exception of population growth.  For me it was year that started out full of self hatred, which led to a serious period of self introspection and finally when all was said and done self actualization.

Last year was a big year for me as far as psychological and emotional growth as a person went.  For the first time in my entire life I can honestly say I am happy with myself  and comfortable with the life I am living.  Yes things are not the way I thought they were to have worked out.  Such is life.  If things always worked out the way planned I think I would be bored to tears. One thing I think anyone who knows me or reads what I write here is that Lisanti Land is anything but boring.  All I know is where I am at in life at the moment may not be perfect, but its good enough for me.  This year I am not making any resolutions instead I am going to just keep on trying to live well.

I thought I would do a little recap on my favorite posts here on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net from 2012.

Still Blowing It: Jan 24 2012
It had been a tough month following an even tougher year.  I was still working through tons of personal issues regarding Ade’s leaving.  Had some domestic turmoil thanks to a close friend getting himself into some trouble on the 1st.  I was losing a ton of money on my apartment not having a proper roommate.  As usual I fell for a bar girl and let that drag me down for way too long.  The renovations to the Palace were way more difficult then I had foreseen.  This post pretty much sums up my state in life at that time.

El Capitan, Need I say anymore?

El Capitan, Need I say anymore?

Micheala’s Lisanti Adventure Tour: Feb 2 2012
She came she saw, she conquered.  Micheala will go down in history as the only guest to go as hard if not harder then yours truly.  This past summer I got my revenge out drinking her two fold. It was the Adventure tour that brought about the use of the term Lisanity describing my life and not some dumb basket ball player.

After we finished this bottle of wine we moved on to rum, then AMF's, then we couldn't remember.

After we finished this bottle of wine we moved on to rum, then AMF’s, then we couldn’t remember.

#@$% Valentine’s Day: Feb 15 2012
Well this is not just one of  my favorite writings from 2012 but one of my best ever.  When I get on a good rant there is no telling to what extent I can go.  In this case it was an angry rhapsody against the dumbest holiday ever created add in naked sand sculptures, sexual frustration and of course plenty of masturbation references.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't pretty much sums it all up

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t pretty much sums it all up

Clothes Make the Man: March 23 2012
A rant about my roommate borrowing my pea coat with out asking turned into a wild incoherent lesson in style.

My folks and I looking our best.

My folks and I looking our best.


Food for Thought: April 25 2012
The metamorphosis continues.  Regardless of the many reasons I write here the most important one is just for me to get my thoughts, ideas, fears, beliefs, and realizations out of my head and onto paper or in this case the internet.  The best thing of SurfingRuinedMyLife.net for me is that I can see my own personal growth unfold before my eyes.  “Food for Thought” sort of builds on many of the concepts in “Still Blowing It”.  True to form both these works were spawned out of a surf session.
Savage Pig Brutality
Bubble Time or Bubble Trouble: May 23 2012
You know that saying “make love not war”?  Well for me it became blow bubbles instead of blowing up.  In the midst of despair and confusion an old favorite past time was remembered and a new relaxation technique born.

A Saving Grace?:June 13 2012
Oh what a conflicting soul I am.  Here a constant theme of what to do with my life is explored.  Do I bail out on California and keep heading west till I get east to Australia or New Zealand.  Ultimately nothing was decided but I was pacified by a good session at the ‘Con.
Normal

International surfing Day Ought to be Called International Go F%&K Yourself day June 22 2012
Here I wrote a very funny yet angry commentary about my favorite made up holiday of the year. If you missed the sarcasm in that then maybe this work isn’t for you.

Happy International Surfing Day!

Happy International Surfing Day!

Dating in the Year 2012 July 19 2012
Not even the dating scene was spared in my rants.  In this writing I decided that adult dating was about as much fun as an old man’s figs.

Maybe if I looked as sexy as this guy my beach game would be better. Hold on a second isn't that the dude my ex girlfriend left me for? hmmmmm

Maybe if I looked as sexy as this guy my beach game would be better. Hold on a second isn’t that the dude my ex girlfriend left me for? hmmmmm


Living Life as a Junkie August 17 2012
Truth of why surfing ruined my life is revealed in a angry rant about bad surf conditions, kooks and over crowding in the line up.

Thank You Rincon October 16 2012
Courtesy of an amazing opening day at Rincon I was reminded that society and all its bullshit was not worth my time or worry.

There is nothing like really good Rincon.

There is nothing like really good Rincon.

We Certainly Could Have a Worse Lot in Life: December 16 2012
One of the last blogs of the year spawned out of yet another surf session hopefully will set the pace for a good 2013

Oh there is nothing like a good tube to set you straight!

Oh there is nothing like a good tube to set you straight!


Read Full Post »

Speechless

Posted in Anger, Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on October 31, 2012| 7 Comments »

This was a giant wave pre-storm surge in Cape May, NJ at a spot called Poverty’s which can be a really fun shore break barrel on a strong Nor’Easter. Looks like it bit off a more then it chew here.

I woke up this morning, my little toe was three shades of purple and looking rather infected.  Surfing was out for me, probably for a few days, yet this was the least of my concerns.  All that was on my mind for the last two days has been the absolute destruction and devastation to my home town of Manasquan, New Jersey courtesy of Hurricane Sandy.  As much as I hate New Jersey and it’s seemingly reciprocal feelings towards me to see what has become of it has been rather heart breaking.

Then I consider all of my friends and family back there and what they must be going through actually having to live in what has seemingly become a third world country. I was on the phone with my sister last night who evacuated to Pennsylvania with her husband.  They went back up to Manasquan and basically found out that more then four feet of water had filled the first floor of one of our family homes.  The cats although a bit freaked out were safe.  Most of the furniture was destroyed, the wood floors, the carpets, the appliances, three cars all ruined.  At this point power is estimated to be out anywhere from 8-10 days and there is the possibility that the drinking water is no good.

I fielded a call from Kooky Kyle later in the evening who is scalping generators, batteries and other survival apparel, currently making a small fortune.  He is doing a good deed as well even if it comes at a cost premium to those in need. Supply and demand is the American way after all.  In his defense he called me to see if my family needed anything from him.  My parents are currently in Florida.  At the moment they are planning on staying at their home there till things get a little more stable in New Jersey.

This was once a street in the beach area of Manasquan…

At the moment it looks like Bosnia over there minus the civil unrest, although I have heard rampant looting has broken out at the shore causing residents to have to show proof of residence to even get to their own homes now.  My parent’s beach house in Manasquan as of right now we have not a clue.  From the few pictures and the little bit I have heard things are pretty bad up there with most parts of the island buried in anywhere from 8-20 feet of sand.  Their house sits on the narrowest part of the island and on an estuary that floods around the house on a regular full moon storm high tide.

The house with the brick steps that are all torn up used to be rented by a friend of mine when I was 16. I used to store a board and wettie over there so that whenever my mom would punish me and not let me surf I would tell her I had to stay after school for something, ride my bike to his house and go surf.

One can only assume the house took it on the chin pretty bad. It was built on a floating foundation to begin with.   At the moment access to the island is very limited and from what I hear just about not drive-able with out heavy equipment.  Some of the bridges are completely blocked by boats and debris.  I had a quiver of surfboards in the crawl space of that house.  Let me stress the word “had”.  My entire family is safe and from what I know all of my close friends as well and in the end that is all that matters anyway.

This is the Brielle Road draw bridge looking rather inaccessible.

Things are heavy over there to say the least.  It was not only my town that took things tough.  From video it looks like Long Beach Island was ravished, parts of it still under water.  Casino Pier in Seaside Heights has been just about entirely washed away.  What was once a venue of rides and amusements, not to mention one of the top surf spots in NJ has been reduced to a pile of sticks and rebar.  The Ocean Grove pier another surf spot I frequented is gone as well.  I sit here writing this at a loss.  Part of me wishes I was home attempting some help to those in need.  Then again I don’t live there anymore.

The remnants of the once grand Casino Pier, Seaside Heights, New Jersey. Yes that is a roller coaster in the ocean.

I suppose my heart will always be in New Jersey no matter how much I try to deny it and be Californian.  Its Halloween here today and everyone is getting hammered in costume yet again for about the eighth straight night in a row. With the exception of my few friends here from New Jersey not a single person even mentioned if things were all good back home to me.  Its 3000 miles away on a completely different coast so who cares right?  Well whenever there is a fire or earthquake here I get calls from most of my loved ones back in NJ to see if all is ok here.  Hey to each their own.  As for me at the moment I don’t feel very much like partying.

I wish all my friends and readers in New Jersey the best of luck.  Hang in there guys one thing about Jersey people we don’t take shit from anyone or anything.  I know you guys will rebuild bigger, better and stronger then ever.  To my surfing friends out there; We may have lost a few spots but I bet when things clear we most likely gained a few as well. The red cross has set up a relief effort fund for the havoc that has been unleashed on the Jersey shore.  If you feel so inclined every bit helps https://www.redcross.org/donate/index.jsp?donateStep=2&itemId=prod10002.

The closest house with the first floor buried in sand was the residence of my boy Cory and his girl Tagan. Hey guys if you need a break from all the bull you are always welcome here at the Lisanti Palace. Heck the Palace would not be in my possession if it was not for Cory.

*all photos borrowed from various internet sources.  For more pictures of the damage to Manasquan use this link: http://photos.nj.com/star-ledger/2012/10/devastation_along_manasquan_be_24.html

For pictures of the damage done to Point Pleasant, NJ use this link: http://nickjonesphoto.com/sandy.html

Read Full Post »

Thank You Rincon…

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Life, Surfing, tagged , , , , on October 16, 2012| 3 Comments »

And then just like that it happened.  I must admit I have been feeling a bit of a failure at life lately as was evident in the Summer of Alf recap blog.  Do you know I was seriously considering leaving Santa Barbara to move into my parents Florida house so that I could live rent free and save some money to make a fresh go of things.  It was a really long summer this year and I think I put a few too many over ambitious expectations on myself.  I also think that society and its pressures for how a person of my age is suppose to live/act had a bit do with things as well.

End result I found myself freaking out that I was not where I was suppose to be.  Who knows more about where one is suppose to be besides himself?  I read a very interesting quote the other day something that up until lately I have always lived by: “The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves.  And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn’t work don’t buy into it”.   As of late I had been buying into it.

I began to climb into this terrible relapse of self pity I seem to revel in with the utmost countenance.  Another thing I recently picked up from my current book Tuesdays with Morrie is trying to only allow myself ten minutes of self pity either at the end or beginning of my day and then its on with the rest of my day, night, week, month, year and eventually life.  Its very easy for me to get lost on the path of life.  I am distracted very easily be it negative or positive stimulation or the two together.

Then a day like today comes along and I am reminded once again that all the bullshit that frustrates the hell out of me day in and day out does not mean a damn thing.   When I dropped into the first wave for me of the season today at Rincon, set my rail, pulled that first twenty yard bottom turn back up towards the cascading lip, punching through it with the nose of my board, feeling my tail come free on the re-entry and hearing the crash of the spray falling all around, then repeating this on that same wave about eight more times before finishing up with a three foot gap air all my problems and despair were gone.  Eradicated from my mind in a matter of seconds.

I can’t remember the last time I smiled so big for so long.  Everyone around me was stoked too adding to the surreal feeling of the moment.  The other day I surfed small Emma Wood with this body boarder and he was amping on the meager offerings that I was basically giving a forced paddle cause I drove.  Turned out to be a pretty fun little session, you can read the surf log for more on that.  Afterward we were both changing at our respective vehicles, him putting on his shirt and tie and me my chef pants and coat.  Before driving away he looked at me and said “And now back to reality”.

What is reality anyway?  I used to believe it was living within the parameters set by our current society.  That just about never made me happy thus Lisanti Land became my warped sense of reality and I found life to be for the most part happier.  Maybe for me reality is working and struggling for that occasion surf session where everything falls into place like today and things make sense.

Yeah on paper I may come off as a bum.  I am 31 years old and barely make enough to cover my expenses, have to live with a roommate, stuck in a dead end job.  I don’t have a family of my own and may never get that opportunity.  I can’t keep a woman or at the moment even get one to entertain the idea of being with me.  But, I can go out and catch a hand full of amazing waves at Rincon or most other surf spots for that matter and turn that moving bump of water into my own personal canvas where I paint my soul for sometimes no longer then a fraction of a second and then its gone forever.  In my head that memory, that feeling shall never fade.

Please keep that big house on the hill, that nice car, the picture perfect girl and subsequent family. Take your fancy high paying job you sold your soul for and stuff it.   At the end of the day I am the one in the barrel and that is what my life has been about for as long as I can remember.  That piece of foam and fiberglass under my feet cruising down a glassy line with out a drop of water out of place, that is where my soul is, that is my salvation…

Read Full Post »

New Season Same Old Sh!t: What the Summer of Alf Amounted to.

Posted in Anger, Deep Thoughts, Life, tagged , , , , , on October 8, 2012| 5 Comments »

I woke this morning on my little love seat still in my suit from last night’s Gay Prom at the Wild Cat covered in crumpled up nachos and a head ache that felt like someone shoved an ice pick through my ear.  Does this sound familiar?  That is pretty much what went down every night since Thursday.  I sometimes wonder what my shitty new roommate thinks of the pathetic mess I must look like when she is leaving for work at 8 am.  Then again she is a selfish bitch who just screwed me out a good deal of money leaving me literally broke so who fucking cares anyhow.  She is lucky I don’t hit her in the head with a mallet then piss in the hole I just smashed in her skull.  In all seriousness  I think I had $35.83 in my checking account last time I checked.

At 31 years old I expected so much more out of my life by now.  Well, maybe I hoped for more.  As we all know I am a bit of a pessimist and a cynic.  This being the case things probably have worked out exactly as I expected.   I’m divorced, penniless, juvenile, absolutely alone, stuck in a dead end job and a total and utter drunk.   I feel depressed, dejected, frustrated, confused and alienated.  At least I have my health and my beauty, yet one cannot beat father time.  They say the first step is to identify the problem.

Am I depressing you?  I’m sorry, here is a picture of a cat in a top hat to bring back up your spirits.  While we are at it lets go off on a momentary tangent on why top hats became unfashionable.  I mean they are dank as hell.  Look how dapper Mr. Peanut looks in his.  That’s it I am bringing it back.  I declare that this New Years Eve I am going to wear a top hat out and from there on in 2013.  The top hat revolution has begun.

And now back to the misery that is my life…

The Summer of Alf ended some time ago now.  It was a wonderfully splendid spring day back in May when I came up with this great list of positive changes I was going to make and things I was going to pursue in the blog “Of Things to Come“, which will be referenced here and then was later defined in “The Summer of Alf” blog.  If your a steady reader then you know I make these futile proclamation blogs every so often when I feel rather ambitious.  Always forgetting how it was ambition that brought MacBeth to ruin: ” I have no spur, To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself, And falls on th’other “.  Of course in the end I find myself more of a whiny bitch like Hamlet.

About a week ago I posted a poll on the most recent Power of Ten blog to see how  you folks thought the Summer of Alf worked out.  12.5% called it a flop, 25% a success and a whopping 62.5% claimed they had no idea why they wasted their time reading anything written on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net.  Let me tell you why you read: for self affirmation.  When you have a bad day or feel like a failure all you have to do is open a web browser, type http://www.surfingruinedmylife.net into it and you are guaranteed to feel better.  Its like “man I know I am messing up, but I wonder how bad Chris is blowing it right now”.  At the very worst you can see that you are not alone in your suffering.  We can cry together thanks to the world wide web and way too much time on our hands. Just because I don’t blog every day doesn’t mean I have not written some ridiculous thing in the Surf Log.

Lets see how I did on that list:

Proclamation 1: Get Back into Music

You ever notice how many pictures I have of me wearing this t-shirt. I have owned it for almost 7 years now. Fuck it has guns all over it making it pure awesomeness! I am going to be really sad when it goes thread bare and I end up using it as a rag to clean my toilet with.

Ok this one is sort of a push.  I actually spent a good deal of time woodshedding and getting my fingers back into shape.  I started ripping on some licks that had me very stoked.  These days I have been favoring my alto and soprano more then my tenor.  On the flip side of things I did not make any real attempt to play out at all and even turned down on more then one occasion a chance to perform.  My friend Meat Cat says it’s because I am a male diva.  No points…

Learn to Speak Italian
This was a fail.  But then again who the fuck was I kidding.  I barely speak English all that well and if not for spell check would be a complete illiterate.  What made me ever think I could brush up on my Italian?  I did pick up a bit more Spanish though.  -1 point

Go Surfing as Much as Possible
I am going to have to call this one a half success.  I did manage to make the most out of the meager conditions on offer and lack of swell.  I surfed mostly local, broke two boards and had some really good barrels. When it was flat I took to skim boarding for some exercise. On the down side I still missed a few too many days as a result of too much drinking and party. One thing is for sure when I did get in the water I had a hell of a good time.  Half point.

Read More books
I  somehow found the time to read three books in the duration of the Summer of Alf and acquired some new cook books that I cooked up some fun recipes from.  Thanks to strange late night drunken finds, thrift stores and the Ventura swap in all its jankyness my collection has grown immensely.  Win +1

Write More
Well I am going to have go with a push here.  I may not have wrote a ton, but I felt the quality of the text was much better then it ever has been.  I came across some blog randomly today and the guy was using cell phone short hand.  I was blown away.  One should never use “u” in place of “you” or “r” in place of “are” anywhere but on a cell phone text.  No wonder the world is falling apart.  No Points

Explore the Greater Santa Barbara Area
This one not so much.  I sort of had a routine and stuck to it all summer.  There was not much of the explorer in me.  -1 point.

Finish the Coffee Table
Nope, unless one is to include spilling a host of liquids and alcoholic beverages on it an improvement.  I guess I am slowly staining the top of the table with red wine and rum and cokes.  -1 point

Drink and Party Less

Big Pimpin’ at the Wild Cat


If you read the surf log then the answer to this one is apparent and no.  One thing I must say is that I partied really fucking hard.  As a matter of fact I think the night after I wrote this list I went out and got black out drunk.   The Summer of Alf brought about the largest number of black outs I have ever had in a four month period and maybe even my entire life.  I woke up in pink seat pants  not knowing where I was, woke up all over my apartment, got locked in my own bathroom.  Did countless activities I could have more or less lived with out.  I hit it hard on solstice, carried it through to fiesta.  There were some drunken Tuesdays in the mix and plenty of sloppy family dinner Wednesdays.  Lets just say I did the opposite here and went hard. -1-hey at least I did not get injured seriously or end up in jail.  Did I mention I also got fired from the produce market as a direct result of my drinking.  That is a first for me.

Other notables
I spent some time in San Francisco at the very start of the Summer of Alf.  You can read about those adventures in “Taking the Bay Area by Storm“.  I got fired from two jobs subsequently causing me to go on unemployment twice.   Alfie still has fleas.  I got passed up for Sous Chef at work for a less capable person who has barely been there three months let alone my three years.  I managed to do absolutely nothing of any substance or value and if anything went into a retrograde.  

My final take on the Summer of Alf was that it was a total and utter failure as per usual.  So be it.  If I succeeded in life then I most likely would not be the fun character I am to read about.  Who wants to read about happy things.  No one! Cause when things were going well for me I had the lowest readership ever.  I’m done trying for the fall.   Fall 2012 is going to be deemed “The Fall of My Malcontent”.

I am not making any proclamations, declarations or aspirations.  I am just going to live and see where that takes me.   My entire life I have always had a zest for living and an agitation for planing.  At the moment maybe that is what has brought me to this dismal point, too much planing.  For the next three months I am going to live by the seat of my pants, throw my chips into the air and see where they lye.

I am going to wake up everyday, take a deep breath and live.  No regrets, no cares, no worries cause what ever happens is going to happen and in the end it will sort itself out regardless.  For the record “I was perceptive,  I always know when someone is uncomfortable at a party”.

Read Full Post »

Insert Foot in Mouth

Posted in Anger, Life, tagged , , , on October 3, 2012| Leave a Comment »

“The moral life of man forms part of the subject matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium.”

“No artist has ethical sympathies.  An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style.”

“Vice and Virtue are to the artist materials for an art.”

“All art is at once surface and symbol.  Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.  Those who read the symbol do so at their peril.  It is the spectator, and not life that art really mirrors.  Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex and vital.  When critics disagree the artist is in accord with himself.”

“We can forgive a man for making a useful thing.  The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.”

-Oscar Wilde, 1891-

It is not easy to be different.  Some choose to be, others had no choice, it was made for them at their inception into this universe.  The moment one realizes he is different a certain division becomes made between him and his fellow man.  A certain alienation is almost guaranteed. These differences shape one’s life.  At the beginning when everyone knows no prejudice against the abnormal and there is no problem.  As the years pass and eyes are opened the exceptional find themselves at times complete outcasts among their peers.

When I reached this climax I did not know any other way to react then to out lash with fits of uncontrollable anger.  I was consumed for over twenty six years of my life with the terrible emotion.  Then I began to slowly reel things in and get a grip of my own emotion.  Finally I created my own fantasy world, Lisanti Land.  That was when I knew I had finally gone off the deep end.  It was in this pseudo world I designed for myself to live in peace that I finally discovered how wonderful the world around me actual is.

It was as if I awoke from a comma and everyday I have found myself in constant amazement of the world around me.  I thought of this as I watched the sun slowly set over the ocean tonight to the peaceful sounds of waves breaking in front of me and water trickling down the cliffs behind me.  It is for moments like that I truly live. Not for all the other bullshit, money, clothes, nice apartment, car etc.  Life is about the beauty of the world around us.  Life is bigger then human society.

For me living has become a fine art.  My canvas the physical and metaphysical world.  My medium time.  For me time does not exist.  I feel it passing, but have no care for its concept.  I don’t care how long something is suppose to take according to requisite.  I care how long it will take me to do it right and get the most I can out of it.  Being skilled in the art of living I have tailored my own life, every detail of it important.  For me these days detail means everything.  Forget the big picture its all about the finite cause that is the only place where beauty and perfection can be found.

Unfortunately every now and again I have to get my passport stamped and leave Lisanti Land for the real world.  When that happens more times then not it is a catastrophe.   A few weeks ago I went up to Portland Oregon to attend my cousin’s wedding.  I was very excited for the whole thing to be honest.  I had not seen my cousin in nearly five years, maybe more to tell you the truth.  I thought man it will be fun to chill with my boy and his girl.  Get to know both of them.  Upon arriving that was not the case at all.

I always over romanticize what the real world is all about ultimately letting myself down.  As a result I believe I attended the wedding with a bad taste in my mouth.  Instead of doing the classy thing and letting it all end there in the pacific northwest I instead decided to write a somewhat nasty blog on the whole ordeal.  Thinking like Chaucer I would “immortalize the scoundrels for all of eternity in literature”.  This I did in the third part of my Portland series.

I would later find out by doing this I caused a riff in my own family and worse then that almost ruined the wedding of my dear beloved sister.  Apparently because my words were so hurtful an entire side of the family decided they were going to make my sister, who has never had a sinister thought about anyone in her entire life, pay for my mouth, my cynicism. Instead of going to the source, me, they felt it was better to hurt the closest people to me.  Payback is a bitch I guess.

So to my cousin Rich I do full heartily apologize if I was the cause of an emotional distress for both my actions at your wedding and my review there after.  It was done foolishly and hastily, but mostly classless, which I am the most ashamed of.  I made some jests on style preferences.   Who am I to comment on style?  I am not an expert in fashion, although rather fashionable myself.  I am not a designer.  Only an expert in the field should be aloud to comment on such.  I was no more then a mere naivete observer.

I made a comment on beauty, which once again is in the eye of the beholder and was with out a doubt a cheap shot of my own for gain of nothing.  What a psycho I must be.  Where I will not make any excuse for though is in the cuisine.  This just happens to be a topic I am an expert in and a professional thus giving me the right to comment on my own fellow colleges.  This does not and should not effect the host for you sir did not prepare the food and unless a background in culinary was possessed would go unnoticed to only the most stout.

All I can say is that you were insulted by the guy who got hammered and made a complete ass of himself at the night in question.  While you sit there with your new bride in all of your happiness I sit here alone with my bottle and angry cat in front of my computer.  If anything call it a jealous attack cause not everyone can be as lucky as some.  I really do wish you two the best.  I am sorry if I caused you any pain.  Let me carry all the pain for the three of us.  It suites me best I think.

Urban Adventuring Around Portland: Portland Part III has been rewritten.  I believe this is only the second retraction I have ever printed here on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net, my blog.  I rarely make apologies for my actions.  It is against everything I stand for.  One thing I must thank everyone for is that I now have no need to ever come back to New Jersey again until my sister and her husband have a baby.  I am personally excommunicating myself from any family functions from here on in order to make sure no more embarrassments of this kind shall ever take place again.

Sorry for being me…

Read Full Post »

Picking up the Trail of Lewis and Clark: Portland Part IV

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , on September 18, 2012| 10 Comments »

In my last adventures up in the pacific north west I decided to get back to nature since after all it was all around me and being from the shallow, fake world that is southern California and the concrete jungle that is New Jersey I needed to take in more of these amazing vistas.  Besides I already had gotten my drunken party out of my system and my urban exploration.  There were two more stops that had to be made: a journey to the sea and a trip up to Mt. Hood.

Ahh the smell of the sea

I had been land locked for days and although I was right on the Columbia River I needed to see some beach.  Plus if there is a coast line in reasonable distance of a place I am visiting I have a need to see what might be there.  If your a surfer you are always doing recon.  Heck I was scouting up and down the Columbia and every other mountain stream or brook for the possibility of a standing wave.  Of course I had absolutely no access to a board or gear, but if I found something intriguing a return trip could be in my future and one never knows whats around the next bend on the path of life.

Fuck, my crazy mother had me married to some park ranger who worked at Mt. Saint Helens, with six kids and living in the quaint little mountain town of Castle Rock, Washington.  See part II of this saga for more about those adventures.  One must remember that my mother is out of her gourd.  Lets face it the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree folks.  My whole entire family for that matter is nothing more then a jar of mixed nuts you could buy for $1.99 at the supermarket.

The drive out took almost two hours where we passed all sorts of crazy things including a giant chicken on top of a fried chicken and pizza restaurant.  We cruised through this very industrialized logging town.  It was a Sunday and the town just had this feel of a despairing rest.  Everyone who was there was trapped in their unhappy mundane lives wishing for more, but with out an inkling of a way out.  Maybe I was just reading too much into the place.  The few people I saw walking around looked rather sad and dejected.  My guess was it was the kind of town who’s inhabitants spent the bulk of their money at the raunchy local strip joint stuffing grease stained dollar bills in the g-string of over weight, toothless strippers, before adjourning to the street corner to pick up an even worse looking prostitute.

I love  those contrasts.  The town just before this one was a tiny little spot with cute Victorian houses on the river.  Kids playing in the front yard of their homes and grandma and grandpa swaying to and fro in a rocking chair on the porch.  Unfortunately in this world one extreme cannot exist with out the other.  I guess it comes down to how to best play the hand you were dealt.  Did I mention it was a long car ride.  Between my Sister and her fiance getting all snugly in the back seat next to me and my parents banter to one another I needed to get lost in my own thought.

That’s one giant cock right there.

From there we crossed a series of bridges yet nothing yet resembled signs that we were getting close to the sea.  Then the mouth of the Columbia River got very wide.  The ships on it became ocean liners and the air had the smell of the sea.  I took in a deep breath of relief.  Like a fish out of water finally returned I felt at ease.

The plan, cause everything on this trip had to have a plan was to go up to Fort Clatsop, the final ending point on the Lewis and Clark expedition.  As it turns out this spot was where they spent the winter before heading back east to report their findings.  There was a little museum and a replica of the actual fort the boys built back in the day.  The replica had in character period actors.  It was kind of interesting, but I hate all that Disney type shit.  As I was meandering around this fort one of these farce people came over and began talking to me like it was the early 1800’s.

I was about to fuck with the dude a bit when some other guy shows up wearing a Lewis and Clark t-shirt.  From there it was on.  Him and costume guy got into a giant debate over who was the best Lewis and Clark historian. Then some other woman also wearing a different Lewis and Clark t-shirt got involved while I slipped out the back of the fort before a heated game of dungeons and dragons broke out.  I was only wearing a Kramer style button down and there was not anyone there dressed like the cast of Seinfeld.

There were some cool looking hiking trails all along the park.  My mom really wanted to see the sun set over the ocean.  For us west coasters that is not big deal since it happens everyday but if you live on the east coast your shit out of luck.  There was a few hours to kill so why not go for a hike.  I love nature, who doesn’t?  The march began.  At first it was a mellow trail along the river passing by old logging drop spots and just greenery.  Walking through the woods up there is just so enchanting.  One gets the feeling of being in some fairly tale or fantasy movie.
As we were on this hike we began to hear what sounded like passing cars.  It was not long before we realized that our blissful solitary stroll through the woods was actually right along side a rather busy through way.  Over it I noticed another trail head that appeared to allow us to go deeper into the wilderness yet still circle back to where the car was parked.  Using my great powers of persuasion I convinced my party to stray from the plan and see what might come of us.

It did not take long for this trail to engulf us in the midst of a thick old pine forest with little streams running through it.  I straight up felt like I was in Lord of the Rings.  All this time in nature really had me wishing I had some pot.  I am not a big smoker or anything, but there is something just surreal about the way I interact with nature when I have some of its offerings inside my lungs.  As of yet I could not get my hands on even an eight.  Everyone at the wedding was a square and my day running around Portland proved rather fruitless as well.

By this point I was resolved on the fact that I just was going to have to enjoy nature with out the bud.  Then about half way through the trail it happened.  I noticed an orange prescription canister typical of the cannabis clubs.  I figured it was empty but at the same time thought it a terrible place for litter to be left and picked it up to throw it away later.  Just for shits and giggles I took a peak inside.  Sure enough it was full.  There had to be at least three grams in there and it smelled pretty good.

Talk about a gift from the gods.  Someone told me once a long time ago if I really wanted something bad enough and then focus my energy on its accomplishment things would materialize.  Its about fucking time that held true.  Now I was faced with a serious conundrum.  How the fuck was I going to smoke this stuff.  As we were coming into the park I remembered seeing a Rite Aid, boom papers and a lighter coming right up.

Myself, Larry, Val and my mother on this crazy little bridge we came across on the hike.

My evening was made.  A beach sunset with a fatty.   Soon a new problem presented itself.  Turns out we must have missed a trail marker and were completely lost in the woods.  The other issue was that the park locked it’s gates at 6pm and it was steadily closing in on that time.  My argument for not staying with the plan at this time had become very unpopular.  Panic began to set in upon my father, sister and her fiance.  My mother and I on the other hand were just cruising around taking it all in.  It was not until she pointed out that if we got locked in then I would have now way to smoke my weed.

All of a sudden I got very motivated to find a way out.  I thought  we should keep on our current heading till we made it back to the road then follow the road back to the fort.  I luckily assumed right and we just made it before lock down.  I stopped and got my papers, light and a green Cadburry Egg.  I love those things but usual can only find them around Easter.  I don’t know if this was a new product or just left over, but it was gone, down my stomach before I had a chance to contemplate it.

With everyone happy it was off to the beach to see the sunset.  We ended up in the town of Sea Side Oregon, which I thought was rather fitting for a car load of people from the Jersey shore.  Seaside ended up being a typical American beach town with hotels and bungalows, a beach walk and the rest of that jazz.  The beach itself was very large with big vast dunes.  It looked like there was some type of river mouth on the north end of the beach and a giant head land to south.  It was very cold with a stiff onshore wind.

The surf was very Ocean Beach, San Francisco looking and uninviting.  Given the biting chill of the air I once again being the voice of insanity was able to convince everyone to build a beach fire out of this giant piece of drift wood we were sitting near by collecting small kindling.  While this was going on I took to rolling my jay.  By the time I was lit and puffing away so was their fire.  Being from New Jersey where it is illegal to even listen to a radio on the beach the idea of building a fire and smoking was very novel to all of them.

Lets just say I was felling pretty good by the time this fireside picture was taken…

There we all sat the five us warmed by the heat of the fire watching the sun set on yet another successful day of adventuring.  At this point our time together was coming to a close.  As I sat there and looked over my family I could not help but notice how much all of us had changed over the last few years.  My parents although a bit older seemed more relaxed and happy not that they are retired.  My sister and Larry, soon to be husband and wife were holding one another near excited on the new chapter their lives are about to embark on.  Myself  at the moment caught in limbo waiting to see what life will unfold for me next.  For that moment nothing else mattered except the fact that we were all there on that beach enjoying the fire and the sunset together.

Time moves fast and it had never been so evident to me until this trip happened.  I have been caught up in the rapture of my own despair for so long I had almost forgot how great my family and spending time with them is.  Life can have a really steep learning curve at times.  Maybe I am finally getting around the bend.

Stay tuned for the finale, part V adventures from Mt. hood soon. In the mean time here is a cool picture I took of a bunch of shamrocks I found growing on the forest floor.  I once knew this chick who grew shamrocks.  She claimed she was Irish but I would later find out she was more like 1/8 Irish and 3/4’s Mexican and finally 100% cold hearted bitch.

Where is that Leprechaun, oh wait it’s Oregon not Ireland. Instead of a pot of gold I found a canister of green…he he

Read Full Post »

Urban Adventuring Around Portland: Portland Part III

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , on September 10, 2012| 6 Comments »

Sorry this is the only picture I got from my urban adventure since I left my camera at home this day and my phone is all messed up at the moment. As usual here is one I shot while driving to wine country a previous day.

Pardon the short interruption from part 2.  All I must say in my defense is that I partied like a mother fucking maniac over the weekend thus leaving me utterly a mess. I am mostly recovered now through and through I will proceed where I left off.  If your lost check out Part I and Part II by clicking each one’s respective link.

Running a muck around the city of Portland for a day

I woke up on my new friend Lily’s couch feeling rather alright all things considered.  I had set aside the entire day to explore around the city, plus after three full days of hanging out with just my parents, as much as I love spending time with them, I just needed a break.  I was beginning to feel like I was 16 and living at home again.  The only difference being this time they could not take away my booze.  A well deserved free day as I like to call it was a foot.  My parents or at least my dad, are very locked in to a set plan.  Everything is on some kind of itinerary and if an opportunity happens to present itself, but it is not on said schedule they get all bend out of shape.

Personally when I am not a work I do not really have a set plan minus the tide/wind/swell patterns for surfing.  Other then that I’m pretty wide open to just about anything and everything.  My mantra to at times my dismay is that “I will try anything once” and “whats the worst that can happen”.  There are plenty of other dumb little sayings I subscribe to but these two fit this case the best.  There are plenty of times in my life where I never do anything I set out to because other occurrences happened to change my plan.  That is why I always use the term adventuring when I go out and about cause everyday can be an adventure if you keep an open mind and are flexible.

Do understand though this philosophy has cost me a wife, a serious girl friend, countless friends and many, many, many a job.  Such is life.   I woke up and initially I thought I would hit up my old friend Grant who lived in the area and as a result of conflicting schedules and his Casanova like love life had yet to link up.  The girls got up and had a plan on us all doing brunch.  Being a chef they asked what I was feeling.  In my usual fashion I asked to be taken to the jankiest place in town with the best comfort food ever.

Sure enough they did not let me down.  They had a few places in mind one a place called “The Screen Door” looked and smelled just right, but it had a wait and a half for a table.  While waiting Melissa mentioned something about biscuits and a place that only serves just that.  This I had to see.  The establishment was called “Pine State Biscuits”  I must say I was blown away.  There was a line down the block to even place an order, but there was a bar next door that had no problem pouring you a beer at 11am while you waited.  Apparently there was no problem with drinking on the street as well there.

If I was a fan of day drinking it would have been on.  We ended up ordering three contrasting dishes so that all of us could get a feel for the place, a savory dish, sweet dish and their house special.  The savory dish was sort of a take on eggs benedict over a biscuit but with bacon,  The sweet was fruit and yogurt over a sweet dough biscuit and the house special was a giant biscuit tower encompassing eggs, bacon and a giant piece of chicken.  Let me just say I almost want to make another trip up to Portland just to eat at this joint again and it was fucking cheap too.

After this amazing breakfast it was back to Lily’s apartment where I needed to figure you just how the fuck I was going to get back to Vancouver.  As it turns out public transportation with in the city works rather well, but getting across the river is a headache at best Monday thru Friday and nearly impossible on a Saturday.  SOL at the moment Lily decided we should go on a bike tour of the city, while running some errands she needed to get done.

All this seemed fine and dandy except for the fact that I was still wearing my out clothes from the night before, rather expensive dress shoes, dress pants and decent shirt.  Since I got it all at a thrift shop for next to nothing anyway I figured what the heck.  I couldn’t remember the last time I rode a bike.  Just like that I found myself riding all over town.  In Santa Barbara I would have looked a bit out of place riding about dressed as such but in a more urban city I think it went over well.

Cruising around definitely gave a different perspective on things.  Usually I pack a skate board and view the city that way cause lets face it city’s are the best playground a skater could ask for.  I wish had packed a skate since Burnside is right there in the heart of Portland, one of the better gorilla concrete skate parks in existence.   We meandered about town with an ultimate destination being the water front.  I must say the architectural lay out of things was very enjoyable with new and old styles all over.  There were cobble stoned streets in some areas, street cars, a giant street festival that apparently happens monthly, and a farmers market all going down.

At the water front we were to reconvene with Melissa for a little out door picnic.  While exploring the water front we came to a break dance off.  I guess these kids do it at the end of the summer every year.  They had a great little 8’x8′ cardboard floor taped up and a dude spinning off a boom box.  It was a sick little competition to watch.  Then they asked if anyone wanted to join the battle and I figured why the fuck not.  I used to throw down back in my younger days.  Long story short I got served pretty hard.  Hey I was still the best dressed.

The picnic was nice.  We had a bit of Sake, and other little snacks.  The weather was as good as anyone could ask for.  The view was great.  The river was bustling with activity and so was the river walk.  Dudes cruising on skate boards, freaks walking about.  Bums doing the bum thing.  As we were enjoying this evening all of a sudden these sprinkler heads came up out of the ground and began dousing us with water.  We made a mad dash for safety and poor Melissa took the brunt of the water.  Someone had to jump on the grenade.

From there it was a ride back to Lily’s where I managed to not get hit by a car.  Not used to riding a bike or a bike in such a busy setting I must say I was proud to have survived with out any major incident.  Once again the painstaking task of figuring out how to get home ensued.  I called my dad and figured out that I could take a train all the way to the airport which was right across the river from where we were staying and he would pick me up.

The Wedding

My lovely family with our soon to be new member my sister’s fiance Larry.

The reason I ended up in Portland in the first place was because I was there for a wedding, my cousin’s wedding.  I guess the gal he was marrying was from that way and thus that was where the wedding took place even though they both live in DC now.  To be honest if it was in DC I most likely would not have went, but I had never been up to the pacific northwest and figured what the hell.

This was the first wedding I had decided to attend since my own marriage failed over five years ago.  I thought I could handle it but as time to leave got closer I found myself pouring rum and coke after rum and coke till I had a nice little buzz.  The ceremony was the usual.  The bride was really happy.  I tried to get a drink at the start of it but the bar tender said it was disrespectful.

Finally the ceremony was done and the bar opened.  The house wine was cheap trash but the bride’s parents supplied some cases of pinot noir and pinot gris from a local vineyard that were amazing.  The food on the other hand was far from spectactular most everything with the exception of the tuna tar tar bites I am sure were previously frozen out of a box.  I use the same stuff for catering gigs at Westmont.  I expected more of the caterer.

The reception was held on a boat which was to take us on a three hour river tour.  All Gilligan jokes aside at my level of intoxication that by the time I was on board was very high I was definitely at a high risk of falling over board.  I just realized I had not commented in the outfits of the bridal party.  The bride and groom were very well dressed.     My cousin’s tux was solid, I could not have picked a better one myself.

The brides maids wore very elegant blue gowns that flattered them all well, even the bigger ones.  The groomsmen had matching black suits that looked nice enough.  Not everyone could wear a custom made off white Armani suit with designer Italian shoes like I was.  Person for person I would have to say my family were some of the best dressed.  Woman wise well its a long way from Santa Barbara and there were very slim pickings aboard that ship.  I think the wedding planner had the best ass in whole place, which I grabbed while making my way to the bathroom and told her we ought to make shit happen after the wedding.

I was really shocked she did not come find me at the end.  The food at the reception was average at best.  The steak was over cooked, the salmon poorly presented and I don’t know if it was just that I was way too hammered at this point but I had a really hard time working the buffet utensils to put food into my plate.  Not surprising the wedding cake was nothing to write home about either.  Dancing kicked off, but there was no one on the floor besides a few brides maids and the flower girl.

My mother provoked me to hit the floor.  I talked the DJ into playing “September” by Earth Wind and Fire for my entrance.  I danced a few tunes before finding my way to the top deck where I some how was given a cigar and was puffing away till the boat came to dock.  Apparently there was an after party that I guess I was not A-list enough to get invited to.  How you could have an after party and even call it a party with out Chris Lisanti is beyond me.  Maybe they were just jealous cause I was the best dressed there.

Click here for part four and the conclusion of my pacific northwest excursion.


Read Full Post »

A Volcano, A Party and A Wedding: Portland Part II

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on September 7, 2012| 4 Comments »

Whats left of the once picturesque mountain type.

When I travel I am not one to sit around get a sun tan, especially in a place I have never been.  For me its all about adventuring and true to the source my parents are the same way.  I guess that is where I must get it from.  We all had a serious urge to go check out Mt. St. Helen’s in Washington the site of one of the most violent volcanic eruptions ever recorded in north America back in 1980.  Although the explosion took place a year before I was born I picked up a picture book on the incident at a yard sale and it was one of my favorite books as a young-in.

The barren volcano among the green pine filled landscape.

My parents and I cruised up to the site of the blast and I must say it is a very impressive sight to behold for a number of reasons.  First the blast itself ripped off the entire top of the mountain.  Then the shock wave from it ripped down every tree within a 17 mile radius and scorched others with in 30 miles.  57 people were killed including the scientists studying the seismic activity at the time.  Now thirty years later there is actually some life beginning to take shape in not only the surrounding areas but even around the area just at the foot of the mountain.

It got me thinking about how life will prevail even in the darkest of places.  I took it further to symbolize how life goes on despite occurrences no matter how adverse.  As it turns out ground hogs who had been hibernating when the eruption took place and were then buried by up wards of 75 feet of ash managed to claw their way to the surface and helped to bring plant life back to area. Imagine how fucking pissed off they were to have to do all that extra digging only to pop up and find their home completely trashed.  Insects and bacteria did as well.  In a way it was like miniature model of how life came to Earth.

These tree stumps are all that is left of an old forest torn to pieces by the blast. If you look closely at the surrounding hills you can see hundreds of downed trees. Yet around all this death and destruction new life is starting to take shape.

After leaving Mount St. Helens we heard that in the town of Castle Rock there was a giant Rock that stuck out over 100 feet into the air.  We drove all over the place trying to find this thing only later to find out that it was in the center of the town but that trees have all grown over it.  I guess the Indians used it for navigation back in the day but hundreds of years later it is  nothing more then a hill covered in foliage. Talk about the tour book blowing it.  The town itself was this really quaint little mountain town one would expect of the area.  I think they should rename the town Tree Covered Rock so as to stop any future confusion.   That night I cooked us up a nice steak dinner over orzo pasta in a lemon basil olive oil sauce.

Oregon Wine Tasting

I have been as of late enjoying all different blends and varietals from both Oregon and Washington.  Being a wine enthusiast I just had to make my way out to the wine country for a tasting.  According to most sources it seemed like Mc Minnville, Oregon was the closest center for local wines to where I was staying.  We cruised out to do some tasting but as a result of heavy holiday traffic my parents and I did not arrive in town till well after 3pm and most tasting rooms in the area closed at 5pm.  My dad had highlighted a tasting room which his tour book said represented the broader spectrum of the area’s varietals.

It turns out that part of the world is know for their Burgundy like reds and pinot noir. Being from Santa Barbara I happen to come from a place that grows some of the better pinot noir I just had to indulge.  I started chatting it up with the sommelier and next thing you know she is pulling out vintages and blends not on the tasting menu.  Let me say I was very impressed.  So much so I spent a bit more there then I had expected to and joined the wine club.  Time was of the essence considering everything was about to close.

The sommelier recommended two more tasting rooms to check out one a personal friend of hers who specialized in Italian varietals,  barbera, sangiovese  and a blend.  My Italian pedigree made this one a must stop for me.  The wine maker was a total bitch to me the entire time I was there thus ruining my tasting experience.  I must say though her barbera was very good. Given her attitude I was not about to spend a penny at her place. I got one more tasting in that was average before the day was over.

The town on the whole was pretty cool.  It reminded me a lot of Red Bank New Jersey, this little artsy town near where I grew up.  I would have liked to have hung out there a bit longer but my parents were over it so back to Portland we went.

A Night on the Town

Initially when I booked my trip I was told that Vancouver, Washington was just “steps away” from the city of Portland.  I know people in the pacific northwest on the whole are taller then much of the majority of America but even for them the route to Portland needed some big steps and many of them.  I suppose it was about time I got a taste of my own medicine, “yeah guys its just down the street”.  The fact of the matter is in order to get to the city from where I was staying it took at least a twenty minute car ride and the crossing of two bridges.  Forget about public transportation. There were a total of three buses that got over the river.  Out of that only one ran on weekends and none past 9pm.

Basically I was trapped stuck at the whim of my parents.  I felt like I was 15 again except I did not have a bike or high school sluts to sneak around with.  After 72 hours of nothing but the folks and the sleepy town of Vancouver I needed to get out.  I needed to party.  My friend Grant from back in the day had too much  going on for us to link up for some debauchery.   About to solo it my good friend and UCB hero Mauriello said I should hit up his friend Lily from college who happened to just recently move up to Portland for work.

This is what I have been constantly preaching here people, the coconut wireless, friends of friends of friends.  My whole life I have benefited from the loose connections I have with others and in return have offered up the same hospitality.  Fact of the matter is if you were to hit me up in Santa Barbara and mentioned you got my info from a friend of mine as far as I am concerned you are now a friend of mine and I will do what I can for you.  Lily in this case really came through for me.

My parents and I were going out to dinner at this fancy over priced steakhouse Morton’s in the heart of the city.  I hit Lily up and told her I was in town.  She just happened to be hitting the scene that night too and clued me in to a hot spot her and a friend were at.  Morton’s by the way was terrible.  My filet mignon was over cooked and poorly cut and so were my parents’.  I could have made a better meal myself for half the price at least.  The wine was good.

From Morton’s I left my parents with the reassurance “I have no idea whats going to happen, if I’m coming home tonight, tomorrow, or if I will even survive.  I love you.” and cruised to the club.  The place was called Blitz and from the outside it looked like my kind of place.  Neon lights, sick music and I mean sick music.  The DJ was this black dude with dreads and he was fucking killing it.  I literally danced all night.  The bar was packed shoulder to shoulder making ordering a drink very difficult.  At first I was being all polite waiting my turn and in the process getting pushed and shoved by everyone in attendance.  Finally I put on my boxing gloves and fought my way to the bar.

Everything was so cheap compared to Santa Barbara.  A tall rum and coke and a shot ran me $10.25.  I know whats with the fucking 25 cents.  I left at the end of the night with a pocket full of fucking quarters.  I met up with Lily and her friend Melissa  and lots and lots of dancing ensued.  Melissa bowed out early.  Lily asked me if I was over it and I just looked at her and replied “who do think your talking to?”.  The club ran till two am.  There was in impromptu limbo contest that this Asian kid owned,  I got into a dance off with this random chick but then somehow lost her in the crowd.

Lily offered me up her couch for the night, which was way better then my initial plan to go home with a fat girl if all else failed rather then spend over $80 on a cab home.  Unfortunately Lily gave her keys to Melissa leaving us locked out hanging on the steps of her apartment building waiting for someone to hopefully show up.  At 2:30am it was rather unlikely.  Eventually Melissa called Lily to see if she was alright and as it turned out she was in Lily’s apartment all along and she passed us down the key.  It was good cause I was starting to get hypothermia out there as my alcohol blanket wore off.  All and all I would say it was a solid night of party.

Click here for par 3 where I will discuss my day of urban exploration in the city of Portland and the wedding.

My Dad and I in front of some new pine tree growth less then a few miles from the base of the volcano.

This is some Mexican guy with one arm in a cowboy hat. I like to imagine he lost his arm bull fighting but most likely it was due to a logging accident. Yeah, I’m an idiot but a romantic idiot…

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »