The Columbia River from the Washington side looking up stream.
I awoke face to face with nothing but scenic vistas in all directions and gigantic evergreens in my vantage. The air sort of had this extra freshness to it as I stepped out on the balcony of the house I a was staying at and gazed out over the river. Im not used to looking at a body of water that ends so abruptly. Still though the veiw there was rather breathtaking. If you were to throw in a point break I would be set. I can’t remember if ever, the last time I saw so many trees.
The baller house I have been staying in. Nothing but the lap of luxury in Lisanti Land folks even on the road. Lets just call this Lisanti Pacific Northwest HQ for this series.
To think less then ten hours ago I was in Santa Barbara who beautiful in her own right is like a completely different world. Its been a long time since I had to do the whole travel thing, at least a year. Besides the usual hassle of travel I also had the headache of a new roommate moving in while I’m out of town, a transition I would have really liked to have been there for. I had family business in the form of my cousin’s wedding and since he did come to my now defunct marriage I figured I owed him the same favor. No; I did not sleep with the bride. (everyone I told I was coming up for this wedding had warned me about such including my own mother. Even I’m not that encouragable.)
I arrived super late with no major travel problems besides some over booked seating problems in San Francisco that caused a minor ten minute delay. My new roommate dropped me off at the airport. I gave her a hug handed her the keys, told her please don’t wreck my car, kill my cat or burn down my apartment. If I return and she has managed all three of these feats, completely destroying everything I have worked so hard to accomplish in the last few years I think then I am just going to cash out and get on a plane with nothing more then the clothes on my back and start a new. The irony in that the remainder of my life I secured on my own to be completely destroyed by a woman is priceless in a literary sense.
One thing I must commend having short hair on is the ease through airport security. What used to be a real nuisance of double security and full body checks now is a smile and “have a nice flight”. Not traveling with a coffin chuck full of surfboards makes life much easier as well. Having no checked luggage for that matter. I had the last fight out of the night and got into Portland after midnight.
My mother and I stayed up late catching up on things. It was really nice to see my parents after the long time apart. Next morning I cooked up a nice breakfast of omelets, toast, home fries and sausage. From there we decided to explore the bit of the up river portion of the Columbia River on the Washington side. The goal was to work our way to the Bonneville dam to see the fish ladders.
This little guy only had about twenty more steps to go!
The Pacific Northwest and the Columbia River is riddled with dams. In this area Salmon need to swim up stream in order to spawn. These dams make getting to their breeding grounds near impossible. In order to save the species and thank god by the way cause those guys are tasty mother fuckers all of the dams in the the area are build with a intricate system of steps and switch back so these fish can get past the dam. I have always read and seen pictures of the system but now with it right in striking distance I had to go.
The fish ladders on the Bonneville Dam. They have to climb 75 of these against the current. If I had to do that just to get laid I think I would not even bother.
On the way to the dam we past this giant wood carving of Sasquatch that I made my dad stop for a picture. I mean how could I let that not happen? It turns out this was the entrance to the actual town of North Bonneville. I would later find out as a result of an expansion project on the dam the town was moved about ten miles or so down river cause its original location was right on the plain that needed to be flooded. Isn’t progress grand. The poor fish have to bust their ass climbing countless steps against the current and an entire town had to pick up and move. God bless America! Hey everyone gets cheap electricity. This town had this cute little park with all of these life sized wooden carvings of Sasquatch and I must say I got a kick and a half out of it. Which meant lots of stupid pictures.
This is my Dad and I. He was not about the showing his sasquatch claws.
After losing an hour playing around with the wooden sasquatch we continued on to the dam. Although it was far from the biggest dam I have ever seen the spill ways were going, which I have never seen before. There was tons of water shooting all over the place. I was sort of enticed on the notion of getting in a little boat and paddling around but none were to be found. Turns out the dam was open for tours. I could not turn down such an offer. I had a choice of the turbine room or the fish ladders.
The Bonneville Dam spill ways in action!
Being my dad used to build power plants for a living I had a very good idea how turbines worked but have never seen fish swimming up stairs. Inside the dam they have built these windows where visitors can actually view the fish swimming up the stairs. It was pretty entertaining and then I found another job I need to work before I die. In the fish room there was a lady hired whose sole job was to count the fish as they went through the dam. Her job title: fish counter. New life goal, become a fish counter.
We horsed around the dam, my dad got cut by some of the dam barbed wire (sorry couldn’t help myself) before we were thrown out at 5pm for closing time. All that fish watching made me hungry for some salmon. Before getting some fish we decided to visit a lake in the town of Camas. Being from the ocean we find all these rivers and lakes rather novel. It was nothing really to write home about, just your basic lake. From there we procured some salmon and went back to Lisanti Pacific Northwest HQ. I cooked up a nice grilled salmon dinner over risotto with roasted corn on the cob. I don’t think one could ask for a more full day. Click here for part II.
Here is a slide show with some of the other photos I took from Day 1:
Last night I got home from work, did some laundry, my usual internet prowling then threw on “Good Will Hunting”. I recently scored it for 50 cents on VHS and I don’t know if its childhood nostalgia or the fact that I still rock a 23 inch tube television, but there is something so much more inviting when watching a VHS over a DVD. I have always been a fan of the film. Say what you want about Affleck, Driver, Williams, and Damon but this film works and is powerful on so many different levels.
The character Will Hunting is a perfect example of human alienation in society. Here is this extraordinary human being who as a result of a tough up bringing and a remarkable gift has become a societal recluse finding life easier to study on his own, clean the floors of MIT and on occasion secretly answer other people’s thesis projects in a few moments that took its master years to come up with. When his talents are brought to the light it causes him a whole host of problems.
Would have taken a clip from the actual movie but this clip from “Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back” was just way more entertaining.
The movie got me to thinking everyone in the film had sort of settled into their own personal comfort zone. I don’t really know if that is a good thing or not. Lately I sort of feel like that is what I have done. When I moved to Santa Barbara five years ago I had all these goals and visions of what might become of my life. Now five years later I must say things have gotten rather mundane. I surf the same spots, have worked the same job for three years now, am a permanent fixture at the same club. I made this place my home. That’s what you do when your home, develop a routine and stick with it.
It works. I am 100% self sufficient. I have learned how to make a “dollar our of fifteen cents” and exist in a city where the cost of living well exceeds the average income. It exceeds my income by at least double. I guess I am comfortable. At work I am sure of myself and am working the job to the best of my ability. Surfing wise I know all the breaks, when their best and for the most part how to ride them the best to my own personal ability. My living space, ahh the Lisanti Palace. Lets just say I made genie in a bottle type of situation.
Yet I find myself excruciatingly bored. As of late that boredom has turned to frustration and even at times anger. It has me asking “what is next for Chris Lisanti”? Or is this it? To quote Jack Nicholson from “As Good as it Gets”, “What if this really is as good as it gets”? I suppose then the existence I have eked out is not that bad. Complacently content? I don’t know. Have I hit a plateau? I do live on the Mesa after all.
My entire life I had always been climbing this inevitable steep slope to an unknown peak. Many of time I felt like Sisyphus. I realize now that those times of intense hardship may have been the most invigorating. When I blew out my knee and wondered if my surfing career was over, when everyone in the establishment said I was too commercial to make a dent on the sax, when I was brought to my knees by my ex-girl friend and lost a year of my life to drinking. Maybe those were the times that were the most stimulating. I don’t know…
Lets hope that I am just walking through a valley right now in between then next slope to climb. Santa Barbara is a pretty darn nice valley to be in, my Rivendell. At the moment I am going to make the most of what is around me and try and stay as relatively positive as a person of my demeanor can. Heck I am sure there are scores of people who look at everything I have, and what I have accomplished and where I am right now who would happily take it. I won’t sit here and cry. On the contrary, this is me just thinking out loud.
Now for the reason I really began writing this. In about five hours I will be boarding a plane to Portland, Oregon to meet up with some family for my first cousin Rich’s wedding. I am not really one for weddings in general, besides the open bar and excuse to where a suit. This is one I could haves easily declined like so many of the other’s in the past. For whatever reason when I got the invitation a few months back something told me I needed to be there. Truth be told I have not been anywhere outside of California and Southern California mind you since I went to Australia five years ago. There was a time when if I was in the same place for more then a few weeks I got antsy.
This is rather out of character for me, but I am rather excited to get out of Santa Barbara for a few days and even more enthralled to get to spend some quality time with my family some of whom I have not seen in almost two years. Remember I am Italian so to be a stranger for so long is considered disrespectful and borderline ex-communicable. Also I am not bringing a board and have not surfed since last Tuesday. I won’t be back till next Tuesday meaning this will be one of the first times not being injured that I went 14 days with out a surf session. I am bringing my computer so stay tuned for some travel blogs via Oregon with pictures and hopefully adventures. Talk you from Portland folks.
I’m an addict and I’m strung out. Its been one bad fix after another for me and at this point I am at my wits end. I have paid dearly for this bad habit for the better share of my life. The worst part is 90% of the time all my efforts go to scoring deplorable dope a best. There was a time when I thought I had a chance at beating this illicit action and even had it well at bey and under my control. Now I realize I am beyond hope and will suffer at my own lack of self control for the entirety of my existence.
I have known others through out my life with the same affliction and watched such destroy them as it has been slowly destroying me. I have seen others successfully enhance their problem so that they could make the most of their self indulgence. What am I talking about my friends? Is it my alcohol problem, I really wish that was the case. That is something I have always been able to control. I am talking about my surfing problem.
I get plenty of emails and messages asking why surfing ruined my life. The answer I always give is that surfing ruins your life when it becomes your life, your main purpose for waking up in the morning. When you get to this point your life as a citizen of our current social structure ends and your life as a surfer begins. Tons of people claim they surf and that they are a surfer, but until you have blown off some of life’s most important happenings to ride 2ft wind blown close outs or cashed out on your entire known existence to move half way across the world in pursuit of a wave that has a name you can’t even pronounce your just a dabbler.
Is it worth giving up everything you know for this everyday?
I surf close to 7 days a week and have put myself in a situation where I can surf every day if I really want to. Those few days a month when I don’t surf I hate myself all day for it. Don’t believe me peruse the surflog section of this site. Most surf addicts are in the same boat as myself. I will even give an honorable mention to guys who although may not get to surf everyday have put themselves into a position that they can and won’t ever miss a fun day. It is very understandable if you have a wife, kids, house and full time job necessary to support the latter that it is not practical to blow off responsibility for 2ft blown out crap. Those guys have a schedule to keep and for the most part have done a stellar job to make surfing a part of that schedule.
A few days I posted a surfing blog and a positive one at that, “Better then Sex“. This blog epitomized the true essence of what surfing is all about. Its propaganda like this that has the masses stoked on getting into flopping around on a piece of foam. It fuels, magazines, websites (this is loosely one of them), movies, television, surf camps, surf schools, surfing resorts and as a direct result surfing is more popular and profitable then it ever has been even in a current period of fiscal recession. Out of this giant “surfing” population it is only maybe 10% who are truly addicted, 5% who have given up having a “regular” life for it and 1% who have given up everything in pursuit of the perfect wave everyday for the rest of their lives.
I fall into the 5%. I need to surf everyday and have like I said structured my life through many series of pain, heart ache and tireless frustration in order to accomplish this. I have also caused similar to plenty of loved ones and great friends on my journey. In all truth I really don’t have any friends. One cannot count on a person who’s entire life is based and planned around a 5 day forecast. Sure there are as far out as 14-day forecasts but those who are really serious know only the five day can be trusted. For the last 12 years my life has revolved around the 5-day surf forecast. At first friends, family, women I have cared about find this intriguing, attractive, even entertaining, but when reality sets in and they realize its not a sport, instead a way of life, a tragic one at that. Those same allies sooner or later give up. Just like you would on a hard drug user who won’t quit.
I have begged, burrowed, hustled, stole, lied and cheated in order to keep getting my fix. When things are good and the surf is pumping us addicts are stoked and awesome people to be around. When it begins to falter and conditions meager our attitudes change very fast. Instead of that happy go lucky perpetually stoked individual all the propaganda portrays you have a cranky, frustrated, irritable, aggressive, and ultimately depressed entity that is a far cry from the advertisements that got one to buy a surf board and wet suit in the first place.
As stoked as I was on Saturday with near epic River Mouth is as let down I have been since. Following that session of amazing proportions I have surfed nothing even remotely worth the price of admission. There have been bad winds, even worse tides, terrible swell angles and poor periods. To make matters worse add in the regular problems and stress of the everyday grind and things become unsettling really fast. I lost my job, my roommate, can’t keep a girl, summer traffic has been worse then ever thanks to a new highway expansion project that is going to make my life miserable until 2015. By the time that date comes the population will have doubled and the traffic as well thus making the road work to be completely obsolete. There is nothing worse then sitting in traffic for 2 hours to get to a surf spot that should have taken 20 minutes only for it to be over crowded and 2ft and windy.
Throw in a host of new surfers, both beginners and intermediate. Its those average “I surf a few times a month or when surfline.com tells me to” that really cause all the trouble. We can thank every surf camp, surf instructor and the creator of the fish and fun shape for this. Believe me I helped, which makes it all the more ironic. Now when its small and terrible, a time when I usually had most breaks to myself or shared with a few other die hards it is packed with groms who think they could be the next Dane Reynolds, kooks who just graduated from their soft tops, soccer moms on their stand up paddle boards and valley boy Joe who just pulled up in his mustang convertible.
It is these days when I hate surfing the most. I have given up everything to go ride those terrible waves that were once uncrowded. My stoke meter was already at a 3 and I was forcing myself to paddle. When you add the crowd that level decreases to .01. That was me this morning in the dirt lot above Emma Wood, where I sat for a good hour deciding if I should surf, go home, or throw myself off the cliff in front of a passing train. The train option being my best bet especially since I failed at successfully constructing that guillotine out of the trunk of my car.
After waiting till the wind got harder and the crowd tripled I suited up and headed out. There were about four peaks working with a few sneakers thrown in. On the beach there were three telephotos and a video? I looked around. There was no one in the lineup worthy of such an entourage and the surf was barely chest high, windy and inconsistent at best. Then I saw Dane suiting up bringing things into perspective. Has the surf been that bad this season that photographers have gotten so desperate they need to try and sell pictures of Dane groveling? I guess so. He did his usual half hour of Emma.
I jumped in and the water was freezing. If it was 58 I would say it was warm. I had a 4/3 and booties on and was cold the entire time making the drive home one of me blasting the heat to get the blood flowing again. I felt like I was in the movie “Top Gun” when all the fighter jets were swarming around Maverick and Goose. There were groms paddling every which way, kooks in front of me, body surfers and even some idiot on an ocean kayak. Apparently some people got lost on their way to Mondos. I got a few forgettable ones that I had to fight tooth and nail for. Then a set wave slipped past the pack and swung wide right to me. I dropped in, it sucked up and I had a solid stand up tube, came out clean.
My initial instinct was to claim it so that if one of the photogs managed to shot it the sequence would end well. Then I realized that they were all focused on Dane and these two groms who were ripping. As I was paddling back out this random dude threw a shaka at me and I was glad to share that little bit of stoke on an otherwise uninspiring day with him. After that it was more terrible ones and more paddle battles, near collisions and tons of frustration. Finally I got my 20 wave quota and was just looking for that one more.
Of course if you surf this almost always means the ocean is going to go flat and that the good wave wont come. You have to end on a good on otherwise your whole day is going to be shit. That was exactly what happen. I got dropped in on twice. Blew three late take offs. Then finally a good left came my way. I was about to drop into when this little grom maybe 12 paddled me and closed out the section on me. Normally I let these instances go, but everyone hits their breaking point and this was mine.
I paddled up to the poor unsuspecting grom and looked him right in the eye “Did you think I was not going to catch it?”. He responded “No”. “Then why the fuck did you paddle me then?” I replied and I splashed water in his face, the most degrading thing one surfer can do to another in a lineup confrontation and usually when a fight breaks out. “You know me, I surf with you all the time and you know I don’t miss the waves I paddle for. Don’t paddle me! I don’t paddle you!” He had a stunned look on his face. So did I.
I caught the very next wave and went in disgusted with myself for such behavior. The kid made a common mistake and he was after all a kid, but I was over it. Then again when I was a kid I would not have even thought about paddling a guy who had been surfing longer then I was alive. The pecking order in today’s lineups has really fallen apart, but that is a blog for another day. Mostly I was angry at myself cause I ruined this little kid’s stoke for the day and probably put some fear into him about lineup etiquette making him over cautious for a while.
Five days ago I was out having a ball with my fellow surfers, hooting and hollering. Everyone was stoked and life was great. Today I wished I had a water proof uzi so I could have mowed down 3/4’s of the lineup. When you want to know why surfing ruined my life just mull that over for a while. Surfing sucks don’t try it.
For some reason I feel a bit gypped being it is 2012. Were we not suppose to have flying cars by now, wearing futuristic clothing with strange rings round different parts of the outfit and I’m pretty sure we should have had robots doing all our work for us? So much for that shit. If the world does not end in December I am going to royally be let down this year.
I have not written too much as of late. My excuse this time around is that I just feel sort of bored with my life. Trying this normal “real life” thing and doing what I’m “suppose to do” really leaves a lack time for adventuring and a paling few opportunities for spontaneity, two aspects of my life that I have constantly thrived on, well since birth actually. Don’t get me wrong I am digging this “settling down becoming a useful member of society” idea.
I guess its fun to have to go to work five days out of the week. Who really liked all that free time anyway? NOT ME…NO! I love to sweat it out for eight hours a day in a hot kitchen serving some other guys dreams while burning my hands and arms. All so I can be told I forgot the sauce, or the cheese or this side, or “this steak is not well done enough”. Bitch if I cooked it any longer it would have been a piece of mother fucking charcoal!
Now that I got that off my chest this new mundane life of surfing the same shitty breaks, in the same shitty town, in the same shitty state, in the same shitty country has caused a sort of mental paralysis. I literally have had blog writers block if such a thing is possible. Then I gave my life a bit more consideration and realized that even though I am living like everyone else my life still manages to be crazy and intense. Just going to the bank and grocery store at times produce ridiculous stories.
Rather then just write the surflog and the occasional UCB (which by the way has been rather sterile as of late, get those power of ten lists in for July) I have decided I am going to write about the adventures I have in my vain attempt at social normality. Its usually a collection of great moments of failure. The first subject I would like to write on is dating in today’s I’m too busy, high paced, smart phone society. As most of you know I have been single now for just about a year and unfortunately have had to partake in the world of adult dating.
Meeting Members of the Opposite Sex
I use the term adult dating to describe dating after college years. Once you get out of school meeting people becomes quite the challenge, at least for me anyway. When your young there are plenty of social circles one exists in where there are plenty of opportunities to meet new and different people. Those people introduce you to others and so on and so forth. By pure probability of the social circle system there is a decent chance of meeting a member of the opposite sex who you may click with.
As an adult those circles get smaller and tighter. While new ones become nearly impossible to penetrate. If you have a group of friends you have been hanging out with for twenty years and you bring in a new person that poor schmuck has a lot of catching up to do. Its hard trust me. There is only so long you can pretend to find inside jokes that you are on the outside of funny before you get fed up and go your own way. It sucks when your that guy people have to constantly be explaining what is going on and who is who to.
The Bar
Then there is the bar/club. This is my natural scene to meet people. Why do you go out to such places? To meet new people. Face the facts why go out and spend the price of an entire bottle or six pack for one drink if you just wanted to hang out with your friends and not meet anyone new? You could stay home with all your friends and drink for a quarter of the price. On paper this looks like the perfect scene for singles to go out and mingle.
Maybe at one time it was. These days its a mess out there. Your average person might go out a few times a month at best more times then not opting to stay home and sit around on the couch. I love the rules of probability so I go out a few nights a week. My attitude being nothing is sure as hell going to happen on my couch besides Alfie clawing the shit out of my legs. Of course when you go out a bunch there is another probability statistic that holds true: becoming an alcoholic. Its very easy my friends. One drink turns into five, then shots next thing you know your being woken up at 4am by the cops cause you passed out against a gas pump.
The quality of people you meet here are for the most part less then stellar as well. Drunks love drunks after all. My buddy and I have this running rule now: No Regulars. For me this is sort of an oxymoron cause we are regulars. The idea being if a woman is out as much as we are then she most likely has bigger problems then us. Basically we hang around looking for the women who have come out for some special occasion such as a holiday, birthday, wedding party, etc. These girls are most likely decent people looking to have a good time and worth meeting and they don’t know that we are there all the time.
“Do you come here often” she asks. “Never, this is only my third time at the Wild Cat” I reply as the bar tender hands me another rum and coke with out me having ordered it. It just so happens everyone I know is at that bar by coincidence that night. The other problem with the bar is the fact that when chicks go out they either put on their battle armor ready to fend off any suitor in their sights thanks in part to all the tools and douche bags out there who have ruined it for guys like myself. Getting past this armor is a hard one. If they don’t have their armor on then they have come out to get laid meaning come morning I am most likely never to see her again.
Yeah, the club does have some fringe benefits 😉
The Grocery Store
This is a place I have just recently come to embrace for meeting women at. For starters there are tons of women at the super market. I am personally a terrible opener. I never know what to say and most times when I do try I feel like I am just being bothersome, get flushed and quickly walk away as fast as I approached. At the grocery store I am the man.
I’m a chef. I know food and wine. No matter what section of the store I’m in if I see a woman looking at a certain item and she seems a bit confused I add my two cents. More times then not it leads into a conversation. Then I always blow it by not getting any digits. I like to leave things up to fate that way. I think if I see her again it was meant to be and I will ask for her number at that time. This system is double flawed. My short term memory and face recognition is spotty at best and odds of running into her again slim. Its a lose lose for me.
The Beach
There was a time when I was a professional surfer and I killed it on the beach. All I had to do was get out of the water and chicks would flock to me. These days I don’t have stickers on my board any more and therefore when I get out am just another average schmo. Yeah I still rip, but most women have no idea what good surfing is. Its been my understanding that in general they think who ever rode the wave the longest got the best ride even if that meant riding the white water all the way to the beach. Whenever I take a chick who knows little about surfing down to the beach with me all she says is “why did you keep falling” or “your rides were so short”. “Look at that guy he has been riding his waves all the way in” as she points to some kook on a soft top flailing his way in on the soap…FML.
Besides surfing I have no beach game what so ever. I think this is mainly because I am not a bro. Also I have chicken legs thus shorts are not flattering to me. One looks like an idiot on the beach in a pair of jeans. Here in Santa Barbara there are no surf able waves on our beaches most of the time and zero in the summer when chicks actually go to the beach. The surfing approach just does not work.
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
The Coffee Shop
My buddy Mark thoroughly believes in this approach. Its true there are tons of woman at coffee shops just hanging out. Next to the bar I would have to think they are the second best casual social meccas. I have a problem. I don’t drink coffee. The caffeine makes me crazy. I am a naturally hyper person to begin with. Throw in the caffeine and I get neurotic and even at times am prone to have anxiety attacks. Between the two It makes me rather unattractive. Me on coffee:
Library, Gym, rec-center, church, parks
Although I love books and reading I do not like the library. Taking out books is such a hassle. Then I always forget to return them, lose or damage the material thus that “free” book became more then it would have cost to buy it. Here in Santa Barbara the library has become the headquarters for the homeless. I think we all know how I feel about bummery. Yes bummery is not a word. You can quote me on that: Bummery – the act of vagrancy. Honestly I rarely see good looking chicks in the library and they come there to read not be bothered by dudes looking to get in their pants.
I don’t work out and even if I do don’t develop muscle tone. I would rather just go surfing, skating or on a hike for my exercise. I do like cute girls in spandex though. Believe it or not I actually tried the gym briefly last summer on a one month free trial membership I got from Spectrum when I worked with FRS. I did not meet any one and mostly got yelled at for misusing the equipment. Eventually I got tired of the ridiculous amount of old men walking around the locker room butt naked with their shriveled up figs dangling about.
The reason I gave up on the gym…
What the fuck is a rec-center. Do they even exists anymore, seriously. If they do and they are filled with eligible hot single women please my readers enlighten me. I will reward you by building a statue of your likeness out of a block of Wisconsin cheddar cheese. They are more likely just to be filled with more naked old men walking around with their shriveled up figs.
I tried the church thing. For the most part churches are full of beautiful good hearted single women. The draw back is most of these women want to get married. I don’t really have a problem with that per say, second times a charm right. I do have a problem with the fact that the majority of these girls wont have sex with me until that marriage takes place and then some don’t believe in contraception. Although I would like to have children some day I would like it to be planned and limited. Oh and for whatever reason they are against drinking, partying and just about everything else that is fun. One thing that is for certain about churches is the likely hood of running into naked old men is rare if any.
Parks are cool. I love a nice park. There is nothing like a good stroll through a nice park on a gorgeous summer day. If I had a dog I would be golden. Chicks love dogs. Then again I don’t really want to walk around picking up dog shit in a little baggie and then having to carry that around till I find a trash receptacle. As much as chicks dig a guy with a dog I do not believe they fancy a guy who picks up shit and then carries it around with him in a little baggie. My dog would probably be gnarly and eat some little kid on the play ground. Then authorities would shot him on sight and then me cause I wouldn’t let them take me alive. Maybe its best if I just stayed at home with Alf. Plus I once saw an old homeless guy drop his pants and take a shit against a tree in a park once. That breaches both my homeless and old man fig problem.
The Internet
I don’t do the online thing. A bunch of people have recommended some great sites for me to try. I have heard countless success stories. On the other hand I have heard countless horror stories as well. What if I just end up having some weirdo old man send me a picture of his figs? I know it is the “way of the future” for people to meet. It seems really unnatural and forced to me, borderline desperate? I know I am old fashioned but what happened to meeting someone awesome in your day to day and having dinner? That is actually going to be our next segment in this new series.
I have messed around with the Craigslist personals. That shit is fucking gnarly. You want adventure start answering some of those adds. Unlike match.com and those other accepted, safe dating sites craigslist is dangerous and you never know who or what you are going to meet. Anyone who is willing to put themselves on that forum is got guts and worthy of my time. Believe me I have been on some interesting craigslist dates to say the least. Needless to say I am still single.
Singles Mixers
Yep I have tried some of these too. If you think internet dating is bad this is far worse. On the whole it is a collection of busted ass people thrown together in a somewhat hostile setting. Its almost like going to a stud farm. There is always more dudes then chicks there. Then we are all thrown into the coral together with alcohol. It is sort of like the bar but with bright lighting. I did two of such events saw just about the same people at both, drank my two complementary drinks and went to the Wild Cat. Mostly if was old men walking around with their figs safely concealed in their trousers.
I hope you found some humor in this. If you are single then you see that you are not alone my friends. Even a person as wonderfully man pretty as myself cant nab a girl friend to save his life. For whatever reason I don’t think this blog helps my case. Oh well if they can’t accept me for who I am then I don’t want any. Look for more dating fun in another segment soon.
With a face like this I am always in constant wonderment why the ladies stay away. I know what it is: My good looks and charm are too intimidating for them.
I took this while driving to Oakland. One hand on the wheel the other on the camera.
***Post Script: I started writing this blog on May 26th about an adventure that happened May 17th thru the 20th. As usual things have been crazy in my life and I was not able to get it finished and published till now. Normally when that happens I just shelve the blog. I thought there was too much here to just let it fall by the wayside. I hope you enjoy a great weekend in Lisanti Adventuring. ***
What a difference a year makes in ones life. That was exactly what was going through my head as I was cruising up the 101 north toward a crazy weekend in San Francisco. It was precisely one year ago that I was on the same trek, but under very different circumstances. Last time around I went in a vain attempt to run away from my problems for a brief stint. This time my intentions were all about having some fun and adventure while spending some quality time with some very good friends.
Initially I had planned to go up sometime in June to cause trouble with one of my favorite partners in crime and SurfingRuinedMyLife.net all star John Mauriello. Then my former roommate and another SRML all star, Brennan invited me to the 2nd Annual Lobsterfest at our buddy Christian’s house in Orinda. From what I heard the the inaugural Lobsterfest was all time. Who am I to pass up an event that with my presence could go from all time status to epic? Finally my roommate Dan was going up the same weekend for an event, the 101st Bay to Breakers. I mean did I need anymore reasons? Game, set and match.
“I will be on the road by 8am”
Well that was what I was proclaiming at my usual Wednesday night dinner party. Which sadly was the first without my sous chef and good friend Calvin, whom like many became a Santa Barbara, but really a California in general, casualty and moved back to Boston. (thats a blog right there for another time and definitely a topic worth shedding some light on) Dinner was with out a doubt not the same with out him. For starters we went through a lot less wine. Oh Cal why?!!!!!??? The food was superb as usual.
I guess I drank too much as always and did not wake up till 11am. So much for the 8am start. Then all sorts of things happened to keep me off schedule. Schedule! Ha ha ha ha. That’s a joke. There has been a running gambol among everyone who knows me. We like to call it the “Lisanti 10 minutes” (which I am pretty sure I wrote a blog about either here or on Myspace. I will have to dig that one up. Find this blog in the Myspace archives and I will give you 5 UCB points copy and paste the actual blog text not the link in the comments). In a nutshell I have little concept of time as it is and now that I am not working well forget it. If it was not for the contrast of night and day I would be completely hopeless.
I did not get on the road till nearly 5pm. So much for grabbing a surf on the way up. Instead I trucked it through the 101 north. Around Salinas I get a text from Mauriello “I hope you brought good clothes, we are going out tonight”. Now this is the same guy who a week before told me he did not want to get wasted with me this year. You don’t have to twist my arm to party. Did I bring nice clothes? Fuck I had five pairs of shoes in my trunk alone. The Civic and I went into high gear and I don’t know if it turned into the Delorean or what but I made it in just under five hours.
Wheres Doc Brown? Marty!!!!! I really want to own a Delorean some day
Night at the Roxbury Gets a Little Out of Hand
I don’t know if it was from all the excitement or what but I as soon as I showed up at John’s place it was time to game up and move out. Apparently he was doing a promo thing for this fledgling sunglasses company him and some friends are getting off the ground. I don’t know, but somehow I think a very sound promotion would be to get Chris Lisanti on a program, but considering I broke a pair at this promo event I may be more of a liability then an asset.
It was at this club called Manor West. I could not find my way back to the place if my life depended on it. I only know the name because It was on my most recent bank statement five times. I am not going to mention the size of the tab, but will put it this way, upon leaving the bar tender handed me his personal phone number and told me if I wanted to come out at all over the weekend he would make sure myself and party would be on the VIP list, no line, no cover. Just use your imagination.
A high bar tab leads to a high level of intoxication which in my world usually leads to a high amount of absolute ridiculousness. We get to the club are through VIP the whole way with one of the most ridiculous looking promo girls I have ever seen. She had to be at least my age trying to sport an outfit that barely fit her with a push up bra that I was afraid might explode at any minute taking my eyes out with the under wire. For my sake it did not happen. I was handed a pair of the sun glasses to put on. I concurred, which allowed me to not see a thing but shadows in the dark club.
For whatever reason this place felt a bit like the Wild Cat. There are plenty of you out there now who have experienced a night at the Kitty with me and know what it entails. Those of you who have not but are a regular reader I am sure have a well enough idea. Upon walking in John and I were both very sober only having a PBR and a Bacardi mini shot. That being the case it was time to do some damage at the bar where round after round of tequila shots were reciprocated. As a result it did not take long to become completely inebriated.
The blonde bizzaro promo chick draged Dave, John’s partner out onto the dance floor and we followed. From there John and I full on became Chris Kattan and Will Ferrell in “Night at the Roxbury”. Remember that scene of them dancing out of control at the club. That was us in a nut shell and we were all dressed up in sport jackets an nice duds for dub step night. We have this friend called Face who is now a San Francisco based dub step artist. At one point in the evening we started screaming FACE! as loud as we could. Before long the crowd joined in and at pretty much most of the dance floor was screaming FACE.
I hit on some chick all sloppy. I’m sure I drooled all over her face while slurring my speech. Surprise, surprise she walked away. No worries all I wanted to do is dance anyway. That is about the last thing I remembered from the night. The rest was all provided by Dave and John. Some how I managed to close out my tab and we began walking to catch a bus. On the way we stopped at an all night doughnut shot at my request. I got a bear claw and forced John to eat a pink doughnut. I guess I was a bit obnoxious to the counter help.
The Social Experiment
After walking out of the Doughnut joint we ran into two homeless people. John proceeded to pull out three dollars form his pocket, our bus fare. He gave a dollar to each and then put the third one up and told them to share it. One bum grabbed the extra dollar and ran leaving the other bum all surely about it. In response to the incident he scolded John about how that was not good bum to solicitee etiquette. All the while Dave was holding me back from beating the bum while screaming profanity. How a good old fashion urban bum shanking did not take place is besides me.
Thanks to the social failure in sharing I had no money to get on the bus. I drunkenly pulled out a ten spot but could not get it in the machine. Over it the driver just let me ride for free. John tried swiping his metro card but was too drink to make that happen either. I think everyone on that bus was just happy none of us vomited. Apparently we had a deep philosophical conversation before I passed out on Dave’s couch. The first adventure happened being in the city for less then eight hours.
Lobster Fest
Brennan and I about to put our new friends in the Jacuzzi. Wait is 180 too hot?
I missed the first Lobster Fest last year by about week or so and heard nothing but rave reviews after. This year when my boy Brennan invited me jokingly on Facebook I decided why not. It was not like I had anything better to do. Besides someone had to help cook all the food. The party was located at Christian’s family’s home in Orinda, a ritzy little suburb just outside of the city.
It was a quaint home with an amazing view. They had this cute little antique stove that took a few minutes to get acquainted with before being able to work with it. We had over two dozen lobsters to cook, I made a rice pilaf and roasted potatoes. The boys grilled up some vegetables. Their friend Andy, another crazy mofo who happened to find his way down to Santa Barbara a few years ago to party brought a few bottles of his own personal home made wine. He had a Montreux red blend that I found most enjoyable. I was supposed to meet up with him and see his set up and get a bottle myself but unfortunately had to leave sooner then I had expected.
All I can say is that a solid crew of people showed up. Everyone ate, drank and had a good old time. There were some failed pyrotechnics that could have burned the house down. A drunken attack on a pinata filled with mini-bottles of booze where near death by falling off the balcony fifty feet down lurked in the shadows. There was a computerized toilet I for one made a point to take full advantage of and a state of the art massage chair that basically had it’s way with me and I pleased for it. I don’t usually do house parties but I must say this one was top notch. You can definitely count on seeing Chris Lisanti at Lobster Fest 2013. The Surfing
While going up to SF is never about the good surf you are going to score, especially in the spring time when the winds are primarily bad and swell window finicky. The one thing you can count on about Ocean Beach is the fact that there will be waves of some kind be it good or bad and no matter the size it will take you way too long to paddle out if caught inside. I was in the full on frother mode I have been in since winter’s end. To Mauriello’s dismay I made him surf more then one session I think he would have been more then happy to have lived with out. You can read about those surf sessions in detail at the May edition of the Surflog, 5-18 through 5-20.
The food!!! Now keep in mind I am not a fan of food in California in general. Next to New York I have to say things are lacking. Maybe that is just my own personal taste. As far as San Fran is concerned I have no complaints. Every time I am in that city I eat like a king. Remember I love jank joints that serve comfort food. you can take that gourmet shit and shove it up your ass. I have a serious hankering for luncheonettes. First morning, well more like afternoon by the time we got back from the crazy night I described earlier in this blog, we hit up this awesome little eatery called Sea Breeze. The nostalgia from Spring Lake New Jersey had me won over. Then the food and service were even better.
John and I were still dressed in our out clothes from the night before and our waiter thought we worked in sales. We hit up this amazing little mom and pop Mediterranean place literally run by a Greek Mom and Pop. I was enthralled and had to try just about everything on the menu. John broke the atm machine and I scared this poor lady off most likely being a “cocky prick” as Amber from Wild Cat likes to describe me. Whatever the case the food was some of the better cuisine of that genre I have ever had.
Finally no one likes an all you can eat Indian lunch buffet better then I do. SF is full of the places. The one I picked was all you can eat for like 8 bucks. By the time we got there the buffet was seriously lacking so we decided to order an Indian pizza “with out pizza sauce” as the menu described it. Although I would noy call it a pizza by any stretch of the imagination I will say it was very tasty and I would totally get it again.
I love Mediterranean food.mmmmmmm
Bay To Breakers Finally we get to the main reason I ended up in SF ahead of schedule, Bay to Breakers. Apparently Every year during this time there is a running race that runs 8 miles across the city and it is a qualifier for the Boston Marathon. After the race is over around 9am a ridiculous amount of people take to the race course dressed up in costumes drunk and walk the course while drinking and partying in the streets. This thing is a full on party for miles. As far as you can see in either direction of the street it is packed with costume clad enthusiasts all going nuts.
I for one found myself hammered by noon. A bunch of my friends were going dressed as animals thus the group was know as the “party animals”. I went as Ace Ventura cause you cant have a bunch of animals running around all over town with out the pet detective. There was every kind of costume imaginable and some people were even naked. If I had known I could have went naked, well lets just say I would have had a different kind of out fit on or not on. There were house parties happening along the street on the route. Some with DJ’s, others with professional bands. All the parks were filled with parties and some even had people doing trapeze like stunts in the trees. It was a sight to be seen. I would with out a doubt recommend giving it a go at least once in your life. There is a good chance I will be a permanent fixture.
Here I am caught in the middle of all the chaos.
That damn Route 152 My plan was not to leave for a few more days. My roommate Dan who also came up for Bay to Breakers got screwed over by his ride home and hit me up. Although exhausted from the long day, heck long weekend for that much I agreed to leave by the early evening. Being it was a nice night I decided to take the Pacific Coast Highway California Route 1. The drive alone is a breath taking one weaving down the vista laden Northern California coast. There was a solar eclipse happening at the same time. It was definitely the perfect way to cap off an already splendid weekend.
I made sure to stop for a burrito at my favorite burrito place in the entire world located right off the hwy 1 in the heart of Santa Cruz. There are basically four options once in Santa Cruz for getting back to Santa Barbara. One can stay on the PCH and keep enjoying the views through Monterrey and the Central coast. Although a very nice drive it also takes double the time. Since it was already dark there was no point for any more scenery. Next option is the 17 which runs straight across to San Jose and then links up with the 101S.
The route I like to take is the 183 which cuts across on a southerly angle from Monterrey to Salinas finally linking up with the 101S. It is the hypotenuse of a right hand triangle and always my choice of route in any circumstance. Unfortunately I was not paying attention and jumped on the god damn 152, the fourth and worst option. On a map the 152 in theory looks like the best way to go distance wise. Topographically it winds through the hills and is only one lane on each side. It reminded me of driving in New Zealand, but with out all the giant logging trucks zooming past at 60KM.
I ate up about an hour and half of this sketchy road where I was owned by some dare devil chick in a Prius. I can drive and my Civic totally handles better then her shit car, yet she was traveling easily 15 to 20 miles per hour faster then me around every turn. Ultimately we all ended up getting stuck behind this RV pulling a trailer causing us to have to cruise at 25mph for the next 50 miles. As it turns out the 152 is also supposedly haunted cause of the high accident rate and that back in the 1920’s some sheriff used to hang people along the side of it. All I can say is that I was a little bit spooked and I did not even know it was haunted.
Well there you have it a fun filled action packed three days of pure Lisanti mayhem. Yep all of this you just read went down in a three day span. I assure I spent the next three days doing absolutely nothing to make up for it. Look for more adventures that happened over the last month or so to come soon.
Happy Cinco de Mayo everyone although it is sort of a bull shit holiday that has been over dramatized and commercialized by America in order to sell tequila and cheap shitty Mexican beer. Seriously Mexicans don’t even really celebrate it. Many believe today is Mexican Independence Day. If you thought such you would be wrong . Mexican Independence Day is actually September 16th. Cinco de Mayo actually celebrates some battle the Mexican Army won against the French in 1862. Now it is just another bullshit drinking holiday so that the general public can feel better about going out and getting absolutely shit faced.
I for one was planning on jumping on the bandwagon. I mean who am I to pass up an excuse to drink? Then as I thought about all the fucking idiot amateurs that were going to be out tonight, the incessant lines and excessive cover charges for that reason I quickly got over it. I went out last night and had an average time at best. I think I will leave tonight to all fools who need an excuse to get drunk rather then be honest with themselves that they enjoy to get plastered from time to time. What is with all these drinking holidays falling on a weekend this year? First St. Pats, now Cinco de Mayo. They are way more fun on weekdays so everyone who works a normal Monday through Friday week can feel what its like to work the entire day with hangover like us weekend workers do.
America Fuck Yeah!
Enough about tonight before I change my mind and cruise to the bar with the idiots and on to my initial reason for writing. A blog ago or so I wrote about my current lot in life and feelings (see Food for Thought). In this blog I am going to explore some of my thoughts about moving forward in life. Take some stock in the direction I would like to see things move for me.
The Path to Enlightenment
“Before enlightenment, chop wood carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood carry water”. This is an old Buddhist proverb I picked up in the brief survey I gave to the study of the religion. I took from them what suited me and left behind the organization. My religious views are not to be explored in this blog. I feel this is a really good mantra to try and follow. One who is truly enlightened knows he must keep at the path that got him to that point.
I am constantly striving to find out more about myself, who I am, what I am about and what I am capable of. I don’t believe many understand such entities of themselves or want to for that matter. When you start digging into your mind, heart and soul honestly there is much there that is amazing, alarming and somewhat a bit unsettling. Once you open the flood gates its not like you can turn back. You must keep moving forward. I have discovered a bunch about myself in the past few years and even more over the last year.
The more I learn the less I know. “The wise man knows that he knows nothing at all”. One thing I do know is that I know what I stand for as a person and what I do not. I also know that I will not compromise this for anyone or anything and I never have. I rocked long hair for nearly 16 years despite pressure from my ex-wife, family, society, jobs, etc. Yeah I finally did cut my hair, but for me. I entered a new chapter in my life and wanted a new hairstyle to go with it. I plan on continuing this existential journey through my character and how it interacts both positive and adverse in our society making adjustments where necessary to suit me and no one else. No one can tell you what you need or want besides you. That my friends is how I intend to live out my days.
The Short List
These are some things I wish to accomplish over the coming months or at the very least better myself in. If you don’t have some type of direction then you are just running around like dog chasing his tail. Here is to moving vertically.
Get Back into Music I play the saxophones rather well and enjoy doing it. At one point it was my job and that basically ruined the whole thing for me. After a very short stint in that industry I burnt out and went rouge. That was over ten years ago. I have never stopped playing. I did a little work last summer in the musical theatre genre that was a blast (see “A Trip Back East” Blog for more on that). I really want to get back into Jazz. I’m not even talking about performance. I would just love to meet a few like minded people who would be stoked on pulling out a real book and blowing from time to time. So if your in the Santa Barbara area and have a yearning to play some of that Jazz music please hit me up.
Learn to Speak Italian This is more of a necessity to go with one of my other more long term directions, which I will discuss later on. I am not sure as of late how to accomplish this task. At the moment I am leading towards taking classes at Santa Barbara City College. I was also thinking about trying some of those language tapes as well. Any suggestions would be very helpful. Maybe I will just kidnap an Italian, lock him/her in my hall closet, force feed him/her cat food and speak conversational Italian with me on a daily basis. I could def think of one Italian here in SB that deserves such treatment.
Go Surfing As Much As Possible This plan has already been put into action. I have been really lazy as far as surfing is concerned over the past year. Yeah I don’t do it competitively or professionally anymore, but it is my best source of enjoyment, exercise and therapy. I know we are steadily approaching our off season here in the 805. There are still plenty of waves that can be enjoyed by the intrepid and willing. I was once both and want to be once again. Its always more fun when your out there. Visit the surf log for my daily surfing escapades and more.
Time to get my grovel on…
Read More Books I have been very, very lazy on the reading front. I used get to read nearly two novels a month. Now I am down to around three a year. This really puts a damper on my thirst to read as many great works of literature as possible. I have a rather extensive collection of classics many of which I have sadly yet to read.
Write More This one goes all around from blogging, to my novel, to another writing project I have been working, to a possible cooking show my buddy and I are working on pitching, to short stories. I am also in the process of a SurfingRuinedMyLife.net redesign.
Explore more of the greater Santa Barbara Area It was not long ago, maybe two years to be somewhat exact that my boy Brennan and I set out to attack a list of 101 free things to do in Santa Barbara. In the process we did and saw many really fun and amazing things. Since then I have still been striking out to explore my home albeit not as frequently. There are plenty of places with in a fifty mile radius or so that I have to check off my list and this may be the summer for it. No matter what I’m sure you will get to read about the results here.
Just another Santa Barbara Adventure!
Finish the Coffee Table Ok this project has been going on for almost two years now and the odds of its completion slim, me ruining it in the attempt very good or finding a better one on craigslist most likely. You never know at the moment I am feeling very ambitious. We never thought the renovations on the Lisanti Palace would come to pass either.
The current state of my coffee table:(
Drink and Party Less How am I going to accomplish all this you ask? Well one of the things I am going to cut out is the number of hours I spend per week getting hammered both downtown and at home. When you drink and party all night you sleep and are sick all day or even days depending. The amount of money such a life style amounts to is preposterous. That does not mean I am going all Mormon on you. All it means is I am going to bring things down to a safer more manageable level before I end up dead by 40. Everything in moderation after all.
The high life…Looks enticing huh? Its not all its cracked up to be.
Grow a Mustache
I DON’T THINK SO…Been there done that scared myself and everyone around me for one week too long.
That is the meat of what I think the “Summer of Alf” (what I am billing the summer of 2012) is going to be all about. Stay tuned for some of my long term accomplishments soon…And of course regular updates, departments and other fun from Lisanti Land.
Where has Kooky Kyle been? What has that crazy guy with the giant red clown fro been doing since his departure from Lisanti Land? These are all very good questions. Yet I am not the one the answer them. Finally after nearly two weeks of incommunicado Kooky hit me up with a short but sweet Kooky’s Korner. I will not ramble on anymore cause you have that inflicted upon you here a bit too much. ..Chris
It is bizarre some trips it doesn’t set in that you are leaving until you are actually leaving. That was certainly the case here. I might have said I knew I was leaving before I left but only upon finding myself on the bus to LAX did the actual excitement set in. The airplane ride was boring, but what does one expect of a 12 hours in an aluminum tube? (I guess Kooky did not take full advantage of the open bar. Shit every time I fly overseas I am hammered on the plane. Last time I went to New Zealand the flight attendant cut me off cause as she put it my drunken antics were causing distress to the other passengers. Then I passed out in the airport at Fiji and nearly missed my connecting flight, which I would have missed had it not been the only flight leaving and their port authority would not let the plane take off unless the entire roster was accounted for. Needless to say I ended up delaying the flight by about a half hour…Chris)I was in and out of Auckland and I really lucked into my room at the hostle, as it was the last one available. Same thing happened at Solscape this hostel in Raglan on the middle of the west coast of the north island, not to mention one of the best surf spots in the entire country.
I slept off my jet lag on Saturday and surfed on that Sunday and Monday. Chris’ friend Sara from back in New Jersey now currently chilling in New Zealand, Sara hooked me up with a WOFer positon. I work for two and a half hours around the resort and I get free room. It is really stretching my money. All things considered at the moment I plan on staying in Raglan until about the 25th of March and then depending on the swell forecast I might travel. I have a few different possible hook ups, two in Taranaki, and a spot in Christchurch and Hawkesbay. So my plans are really wide open.
Dave Rastovich was here all last week and Tom Curren played a gig in town as well. The surf spots here are pretty good. Whale bay isn’t a great wave, but Indicators and Manu Bay are world class. The beach is a cross between wrightsville beach and a doubled up closeout. I made it up to Rapuke , another beach break a with a ton more exposure to swell just above Raglan, once. Ironically I ran into a group of guys from NJ, but the tide was too drained out and it was a massive closeout. Looks like there is a little flat spell coming with mid day low tides so hopefully I can get in up at Repuke.
This is really all I have time for as I pay by the minute for it…Till next time Kooky Kyle.
Well there you have it folks the thrilling adventures of Kooky Kyle thus far. Stay tuned for the final installment of my Spring Break 2012 series and this week’s UCB. Dont forget to submit your power of ten lists for March. They are good for two points.
A look at two of the spots Kooky has been surfing. Indicators is the far point and Whale Bay is in the foreground.
Well on day one Lisanti went into the Wild. On day 3 Chris Lisanti got fucking wild at the Wild Cat. Its only fitting that I started Day there at the Kitty. Last night, gay night was especially gay. I am pretty sure with the exception of my friends Mark, Adrienne (not my ex-Adrienne) and maybe a handful of other people everyone was playing for the other team. At first I was taking things in strides. I was a little bummed about how the weekend played out getting blown off by that chick I mentioned in both the surflog and yesterday’s blog “Busy Bee, Spring Break Day 2“.
I was determined not to let the instance turn me to depression drinking. Then boredom kicked in and around 1am with no real prospects cruising around the club Wild Cat Adrienne said “Get a shot with me”. I am on spring break after all and have not really gotten hammered in a long time. I’m lying I got hammered on Friday night with this UCSB graduate school chick I met. I thought I might be able to pull her, but then she was kidnapped by her friends in the last minutes of last call and taken home to Goleta. Goleta chicks are near impossible to bring home and visa versa.
Its a solid $30-50 cab ride, pain in the ass bus ride or long, long walk (trust me I walked it once) home for both parties. Rule of thumb downtown: if she wants me to come home with her and it is back to Goleta I pass and when I try to bring them home to the Mesa it is usually the same effect. Its just too far, thus the best one can hope for is digits and shoot for a follow up date. I got her number, now I just have to decide if she was worth giving a call.
Man that got off track. Anyway, Adrienne and I got a round of Fire Ball Shots (whiskey). Now I don’t drink whiskey because for whatever reason whenever I do it brings out the worst drunk I can possibly be. I get angry, emotional, and crazy in a scary way. Everyone who parties knows there is no such thing as doing one round of shots no matter how drunk you are. They are addictive. There is something about the bartender pouring your choice of poison into those little glasses and the looks on your face and those around you. Everyone knows that you are on a one way ticket to being out of your mind.
Yeah, one round led to three, the last one taken at last call. That my friends is the last thing I remember. What happened after that is beyond my reasoning. I went to black out town, population me. This time there was no Kooky to help me put the pieces together. Somehow I managed to get my jacket from coat check and sign out my tab. I also managed to walk home, but barely I think.
Fast forward to 9:30am. I woke up on the floor of my apartment directly adjacent to my front door to a text from Lindsay about if I wanted to surf or not. I was fully dressed, jacket, shoes and all. My pants were torn at the knee and the hip and I had a few bruises on my body. I assume I must have fell down a few times on the walk home, but that is speculation, anything could have happened for that matter. I checked my outbox/inbox of my phone to see if I sent or was received anything. Apparently I sent Wild Cat Adrienne a very incoherent angry message, which I apologized for and she was cool with. That was the only lead I had and she had no recollection of anything after that last shot either.
Whatever, I am still alive. Since I was up I got changed and decided to go for a surf and it was a good thing I did cause Rincon was breaking. It was tiny, waist with the occasion chest high set through the Cove, but it was flawless. I mean oil glass and running down the Cove perfectly. Some how despite being a bit messed up still I surfed exceptional. I am talking a top notch backside performance anyone would be proud of. The crowd was myself and about ten other people. I was super stoked for the session.
From there I had just enough time to scarf down another bowl of cereal and run to class or nap time as I like to call it. Unfortunately we had to do group activities in class cutting into my sleepy time. It was fun and I found out about this cool jazz show that went down tonight of which I have just got back from. On another note before I get into the show I think this will be the last semester I am going to spend in the Culinary program at Santa Barbara City College. The program is very unimpressive to me and I just feel that I am wasting my time.
Instead if you remember back to a few blogs ago I mentioned something about how I really wanted to go cook in Italy. That is exactly what I am going to do. There are a few different culinary schools out there that offer intensive three month programs where I can earn a master chef certificate in Italian and European Cuisine, a stage 2 sommelier certification and a pastry and baking certificate. Basically I will do in three months what will take me at my current rate years if ever at City College. The last five weeks of the program I am required to cook in different restaurants all over Italy.
Who knows maybe I will even meet a nice Italian girl and bring her back with me to America. There will be more on this in blogs to come as I figure the whole thing out. It is about time I do something positive for me for a change. I think a break from both the Wild Cat and Santa Barbara may be good for my health.
Back to the jazz show. This girl in my group mentioned she was going to a jazz show at Soho, my all time favorite venue to listen to live entertainment at in Santa Barbara. I took the stage there once myself and all I can say is that it was one of the best sound stages I have ever performed on (check out the blog “About Last Night” for more on that performance). I asked her about the event and it turns out it was at 7:30 that evening.
I cruised and my buddy was working the door so I got in for free. Turns out all the cats were local and they burned. The majority of the cats on stage were so hot they had me hooting and hollering the entire time. As it turns out they do these “Jazz Jams” as they call them every few weeks at Soho and anyone is invited to play. The next one is April 2nd and I will guarantee that they will be joined by jazz saxophonist, Chris Lisanti. I can’t wait to get up and blow with those guys.
I am even more stoked that it is a fairly regular thing. Hopefully they like my stuff and invite me back to play on other occasions. I guess I am going to have to do some heavy woodshedding over the next two weeks. They had another saxophonist with them and he was exceptional, but in a completely different style then I play. the group was ironically very “West Coast Cool”, where as I am definitely “Harlem Eclectic”. West Coast Cool is a style of jazz that is more lay back and relaxed such as Wes Mongomery or Bill Evans. Harlem Eclectic is more in your face hyper active like Sonny Rollins or John Coltrane.
That brings me to right now sitting here on my couch under my leopard blanket putting the finishing touches on this piece while Alfie lounges in felicity on my lap. Goodnight everyone and stay tuned tomorrow for more Spring Break action.
I am sure I can find a bar just as gnarly as the Shitty Kitty in Italia.
I came to an elevated realization today. As much as I love my job what I really love is not working at all. I always meet people who claim to love work and that they would not know what to do with themselves if they did not have a job. My response has always been “are you nuts what wouldn’t you do if you did not have to be some place for upwards of forty hours a week”. Do realize that I spend the bulk of my time inside of the Westmont College kitchen.
Don’t get me wrong I really do love my job, but I love having free time more then anything. There is an upside to working for a college, SPRING BREAK!!!!!:) Yep that’s right at thirty one years old I still get to enjoy spring break and it is amazing my friends. For the next six days I don’t have to work. Sure I don’t get paid for it, but what is money anyway but a giant inconvenience in this life. It has certainly inconvenienced my life more times then I would like to remember.
This is the most time off I have had since December. I know all of you work-aholic busy people out there are probaly thinking “so what I never get any time off”. Remember I was once a professional surfer followed by a professional slacker at one time. Translation: I got to enjoy a ton of quality free time. Over the years I had become accustomed to such. I learned to appreciate the art of nothingness. It is perfectly ok to spend two hours watching a flock of seagulls fight with a flock of crows over a trash can. When you have no commitments or obligations you learn really fast how to enjoy all of life’s stupidities.
I have spent entire days of accumulated hours of my life picking flowers, collecting sea glass, enjoying beach walks, sunsets, full moons, star gazing, stacking rocks and adventuring. I would not consider any minute of any of it a waste of time. On the contrary I think being cooped up in the work place for the bulk of my life so some rich asshole gets richer, while I am constantly under paid and under appreciated a waste of my time. Unfortunately to exist in our society I am forced to conform. These days I feel I have conformed to a point where I hardly recognize myself. I cut my hair. This is old news but my latest hair cut has me looking the way I should have for all those good jobs I turned down in the past because my hair was too long.
What happened to me? When did I become like everybody else? That is not entirely true. I am still far from that. As long as Lisanti Land is going strong I will never be like everybody else. What am I ranting about. Nothing actually. The point is for the next six days I don’t have to work and that means I am going to live every minute of it to its fullest and will chronicle it here at surfingruinedmylife.net.
Day 1 – The Hike
Last night I went out and got shit faced at the Wild Cat. I do not need spring break to do that. Its a rather regular occurrence. The beauty of spring break is that I got to sleep in till noon today minus being woken up by both my father and Lindsay. It was fine since both their business was pertinent. My dad finished doing my taxes and using his magic somehow managed to get me a fatty refund. Can you say new bedroom set, cause I can! Then Lindsay as a result of some friendly prodding from yours truly broke up with her boy friend and needed to get out of the house.
Don’t think less of me. The guy was not treating her right and needs a wake up call. She is too good for that type of bullshit. She is like a younger sister to me and I definitely was not going to sit by and watch what was happening and not get involved. She deserves better.
She got me through my Ades bull shit so I am now going to be there for her. I was going to go do something cool today anyway. If it was not for her waking me up I may have just slept the entire day. Maybe I should not buy a new bed. Mine is already too comfortable. If I step up to a queen size forget it I may never come out from under the covers. Sleep has become one of my new favorite activities for whatever reason.
The plan was to hike Gaviota Peak, but then we futzed around her house with her dog for too long causing us to get a late start. We set out for the Cold Springs trail in Montecito instead. I have hiked the many different trails that are in this region a number of times but have never made it to the actual top. Lindsay wanted to go on a gnarly hike as she put it. We took the expert trail where the entire time you are pretty much climbing at a 15% to 30% grade. It is the fastest way to the top.
It was a rather invigorating hike. We did not quite make it to the top but we did manage to get as close as I have ever gotten. It was getting late and the idea of getting stuck on the trail in the dark did not sit well with either of us. We did however make it to these two eucalyptus trees that were protruding. off the edge of the peak. I always forget how amazing the world around us is till I get some time to actually stop and take it all in. From up there I looked over the town, all the point breaks I regularly surf, the rich assholes and their million dollar estates and even my own shitty apartment that we have lovingly come to know as the Lisanti Palace and I realized no matter what our status is in this life we are all in it together existing the best we can.
That is all one can ask for out of life, do the best he can. I don’t know if this is the best I can do at the moment but I do know I am getting close. Its funny cause a year ago to this date I was on Spring Break and Kooky Kyle was out here for his very first Lisanti Adventure Tour (for more on that read Kooky Speaks Out) and I thought I was doing the best I could. I thought I had an amazing girl friend and that my life was finally taking shape. What I did not know was that the whole time I was showing Kooky the best time Santa Barbara had to offer some other guy was showing my girl friend a good time behind my back.
If it was not for that happening I would not have realized a lot about myself that I hated and would not have worked and am constantly working to change. I am not yet 100% there but I will venture to say I am maybe at 75%. Back then I did whatever I wanted regardless of the feelings of others. These days I find myself most times living on the up and up and holding myself to higher standard of class. Most days I go home proud of myself, who I am and what I am trying to become. Before enlightenment chop wood carry water, after enlightenment chop wood carry water.
As I sat there perched in one of the eucalyptus trees all of this became apparent to me. I looked out over all the beauty that is Santa Barbara and realized that this may be the first time in my life where I have not hated myself ever. A feeling of calm and peace came over me. I can’t say for certain, but I think everything is going to be alright. Stay tuned for more Lisanti Spring Break 2012 adventures soon. Here are some shitty photos I took on my cell phone. Enjoy….
Kooky’s time here is waning, closing in on just about two weeks. I must say the kid has certainly grown on me these past few months. I believe he has seen more sides of Chris Lisanti than anyone besides maybe my mother. Kyle has experienced, angry Chris, party Chris, drunkard Chris, depression Chris, suicidal Chris, hard working Chris even relationship Chris. Despite dealing with all my moods and insanity he has stayed true and loyal. In this day in age it is a trait hard to find in another human. I respect this trait for I myself am one of the most loyal subjects to be found. Those that head me will get the same treatment in return.
I feel a bit like a proud mentor at this moment. I have watched over the past four months a kid who I thought might get eaten up by the world learn how to survive outside of the realm of a book. Knowledge gets you far, yet knowledge plus experience earn one wisdom. Two months ago I had real fears for the kid over in New Zealand and in life in general. He survived an extended stay in Lisanti Land at one of the heaviest eras in it’s history. As I watch him command himself both at life and work these days I am honored to call him one of my brothers. Kooky Kyle is going to make it in this life folks and its not going to be as drone as I once was afraid of. I feel assurance that on the road of life he shall take the path less trodden upon.
What a month it has been since you last heard from me. I am still alive believe it or not. I surfed epic El Capitan and some really good Rincon with manageable crowds. I can finally surf a point as it should be surfed, linking turns and sections together. I am no master, but a wave is not totally wasted on me. After nearly four months here I finally got a real mattress and my room is my own, though Alfie still likes to use it as his litter box. Marc recently left, and left his sickness he picked up down in Orange County around the apartment. I am trying to dodge it as best I can. We now have a new couch mate, Dave. He came here as a guest of Chris, but now, I consider the kid a friend of mine too. I guess that is how these things work, shared roof, shared food, shared bar tabs, and shared friends. Gainfully employed, and secure in my living situation, I am now gearing up to leave Santa Barbara.
Why, you ask? First if I do not leave soon, when? Sure next month is a likely bet for some of the more elusive spots to turn on. After that the likelihood of scoring the points rapidly diminishes and what am I doing here? I have booked my ticket to New Zealand and will be there for forty days. I am really excited and a little nervous. Never in my life have I set off to be, as far from everyone I have known, as I am about to be. How can one grow though when they live in the shade of comfort? Even here in Lisanti Land I had a safety net of Chris and the Palace. Even though Chris and I joke about killing each other, I know he has my back as he has illustrated time and time again. Now do not get me wrong, I have grown here My surfing has definitely improved as I have constantly pushed myself in the water. I have also learned there is more to life than surfing. Surfing can be the avenue to what else there is in life or it can block you off to it. I hope that I can find the prior to be true, as I have lived most of my life so far under the later. I will undoubtedly make memories and grow on this adventure. No concrete plans, no travel partners, it is just me.
After New Zealand I have a few things cooking. Some opportunities have come up that I want to take but would have to give up on others. It does look as though I will be returning to New Jersey and rounding out my last summer as a lifeguard. It saddens me to think that my childhood is ending. I have spent every summer of my life with my extended family at our beach house. I spent more time there than many of my cousins, especially in these recent years. I made many of my best friends there, some of whom are more than friends now. They are family. Alas, all things must pass. I stand on the verge of my adulthood and see the experiences that lay ahead and I embrace it.
If you are in New Zealand let me know I wouldn’t mind grabbing a beer or some waves with anyone.
Surfing Ruined My Life 