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A Sea Going Voyage, Part II: Quality Ocean Time

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 31, 2011| 8 Comments »

If you missed Part 1: Gearing Up click here. 

As we motored out of the Santa Barbara Harbor my apprehension quickly turned into excitement and awe.  I had never been on a boat out of the harbor before and I have never been on a real sailboat. There I was first mate on a two man excursion to hopefully score some worth while surf.

Cit immediately began teaching me the names of all the different parts of the boat most of which I forgot leading to his frustration later when asked to do something.  I did actually learn a lot.  I had three main duties: Cooking in the Galley, Operation of the Hook (anchor) and keeping our coarse with the till (long stick used for steering).   Occasionally I had to help raise and lower the sails as well and propeller kelp detail.

The wind was nonexistent for the first 20 miles and it is around a 35 mile shot to the surf spot.  We got a late start no shoving off till after one.  Due to the calm conditions we had nice smooth seas but no wind thus having to use the small out board motor and only making a progress of 5.5 knots an hour.  Slow and steady wins the race.

On the way out we passed buoys laden with seals barking at each other.  The funny thing is I can hear those same seals at night from the patio of my apartment.  It was nice to finally see them up close.  There were all these tourists on kayaks sitting around the buoy staring at them as if they had never seen a seal before.

After about twenty minutes Cit handed me the till and said keep our course on a certain compass reading that I am not going to give out.  It was a warm summer day making visibility only about 15 miles or so thus you could not see the islands allowing navigating by sight to be impossible.  I grabbed the till and at first it was very hard to keep the boat on course with out constantly meandering in a serpentine motion, pissing off Cit.  After about 30 minutes I got into a groove.

We passed the rigs and let me say they are not nearly as nice when you get up close to them.  Most are just weathered boxes on stilts with cranes hanging off them.  I don’t know why I thought there would be more to it then that.  I think I have over glamorized the oilrig life style.  After being near them up close it seems a very solemn life for only the most salty or hardened of souls.  Apparently the majority of them all line up perfectly when you are next to them and it is because they pump along an under water mountain range that runs the channel.  All I know is that I will have a greater appreciation of the rigs next time I stare off at them from the shore.

About 20 miles out Cit yelled “there are dolphins coming up the bow”.  He took the till and let me go up to the front.  I hung off the mast’s suspension cables over the bow and watched and listened to the purposes as they playfully showed us how more capable they are then us at sea travel.  The sun was shinning and the water was the clearest dark blue I have ever seen.  I could not see land on either side of us and I was enjoying the spray on my face as it splashed up over the bow and then trickled down my bare chest sending exhilarating chills through out my body.

I began laughing out loud.  Two months ago I wanted to kill myself over a woman.  A WOMAN! What a waste that would have been.  If it were not for her I would not have even been standing there with the realization of just how wonderful life really is.  The world is an amazing place and I think we get bogged down by life too often and forget all the awe-inspiring things it has to offer.  Two months ago if someone told me I would be hanging off the bow of a sailing vessel playing with dolphins I would have said he were crazy.

There are just so many moments in my life where I just keep expecting to wake from this dream I am living, but I never do.  While everyone else was at Emma Wood getting all grumpy and annul this is what I was doing.  Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.  Sorry I had to just chuckle to myself a little more.

 The King of Beers

At our slow pace, even when we were able to get the sails up we still only were averaging 6 knots, making the journey about a 4-5 hour peregrination.  For this duration Captain Intoxication (why he was garnished with this name) kept cracking and handing me beers.  “When in Rome”, plus it made the trip go by much faster.  By the time we got near the Island both of us were ten beers in each and thrashed.  As Cit put it “I may be a drunk captain, but I am a good captain”.  Honestly the guy really did know his stuff.  I was impressed.  Heck we did not die.

Unlike the rigs the Islands are a magnificent sight up close.  Most consist of sheer hundred plus foot cliffs made of black, white, pink, yellow, brown and red rocks, depending on the mineral type.  Some of the cliffs fall right down into the ocean, while others guard black cobblestone or black sand beaches with no other disturbance then the birds. Atop the cliffs are miles of tall yellow grass, cypress trees and just open space.  The whole area is a protected National Park allowing for no development.

There is wild life everywhere.   Seals swim in large packs, twenty or greater and jump out of the water in unison similar to dolphins.  Purposes swim around, sea otters, jelly fish and birds, tons and tons of sea birds of every variety.  It makes you think that is probably what most of the California coast looked like 200 years ago before man ruined it.  It was breath taking.

 Smugglers Cove

We pulled up at a “safe” anchorage, by the Islands standards.  All of them stick out in the middle of the ocean, where the weather is super fickle and all are uninhabited meaning no man made ports.  As Cit put it “we are pirates out here”.  Smugglers was a small cove semi protected by high cliffs on each side of it.  In the middle was this impressive rock/sand mix beach.  Up the hill from the beach was an old Olive Orchard that sill looked rather tame for not being manned in fifty years.  Cit said there was a ranch house up above the orchid as well.  Initially we were going to row into the beach and check it out, but it was already pretty late when we got there.  Then I cooked up some Rose Mary Chicken and mixed vegetables in tomato sauce.  After eating that and washing it down with the bottle of Merlot we were exhausted from the journey, good and drunk and with waning light decided it was better to chill on deck.

I passed out shortly after.  I awoke sometime in the night freezing cold after getting thrown off the seat I feel asleep in onto the deck.  Still drunk I crawled below deck climbed into my bunk and wrapped myself in my comforter.  In that position I stayed till morning.  Getting drunk off beer is a big mistake, probably my worst handover next to tequila.  Cit and I were definitely hurting from the previous night’s festivities.  The surf was on as we could see 3-4 foot south swells rolling past us and crashing onto the rock covered beach.

We hoisted the anchor, which by the way is a pain in the ass to do manually.  It takes so much strength to get the chain off the bottom and it is heavy as hell.  Not to mention it burns the fuck out of your hands.   We let out 75 feet of chain.  Hook detail fucking sucks and now I know why it is the first mate’s job.  Dropping anchor is a bit easier.  All you have to do is steady the line with your hand as it falls into the water to make sure the chain does not pile up on itself.  Finally it was off to the surf spot.

Stay tuned for Part III: The surfing, Island Adventuring and the Trip Home.

The rigs falling in line

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A Sea Going Voyage: Part I; Gearing up

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on July 30, 2011| 3 Comments »

I am going have to postpone this week’s UCB a day or so to write about a “most excellent adventure” to quote Bill and Ted. I was lucky to survive the whole ordeal actually, as my captain put it “if _________ happens you probably wont survive”.  This may take more then one part.  I literally have only been on dry land for a few hours and still feel like I am on a boat, not to mention the fact that I have had in the last three days a total of 10 hours of sleep and being it is my roommate’s last night living in Lisanti Land I promised we would go out to the Wild Cat tonight.  I am going to need a beauty nap at some point before that happens.  We will see how far I get.

A Sailing Trip, with a little bit of surfing and way too much drinking

Being temporarily unemployed is a wonderful thing.  Sure not having a ton of available cash is a bit of a bummer, but having oodles of free time is priceless.  Actually I have been putting a few applications out all over town and have gotten a bite or two, one being very prestigious for an aspiring chef.  I even have some cash work going at the moment as well, but those are blogs for some other time.

Wednesday morning I got a text from an acquaintance of mine who incidentally has a boat and owes me a tad bit of money for some ding work (what else is new, the ding repair business never changes).  “Are you free the next few days” the text read.  I have gotten these texts before and that means one thing: Island trip.  What am I talking about?  The Channel Islands of course, those south swell blocking curses of land that span the length of the coast line of Santa Barbara keeping it flat all summer long.

Those Islands don’t just block the swell they also funnel it in and enhance it at certain surf locales.  This person whom I am going to call Captain Intoxication, Cit for this blogs purposes knows the place like the back of his hand and will stay anonymous as will the actual location where we surfed.  This is to both protect the spot and keep either one of us from being banned from going back.  Also there will be no photos either for the same reason.  Sorry folks, but to make up for it I will try and be as descriptive as possible.

Captain Intoxication (Cit) and His Almost Sea Worthy Vessel

 I have been on stand by all summer long for one of his voyages.  Each time I have been bumped for his regular first mate he has been cruising there with for years.  Finally when I got the call I jumped on it.  I had to move a few things around, but I was not about to let this rare opportunity slip from my grasp.  Cit I found out has a kid on the way in November so life may not grant him the freedom to cut away as much in the future.

Certain influences in my life, those I value rather highly warned me more then once to stay clear of Cit.  I hate having a negative predisposition towards another person on behalf of a third party.  Cit has always been decent to me and never really given any reason not to be trusted.  I needed a pick ax for my garden and he lent me one. I have fixed boards for him and he almost always paid up front.  As far as I was concerned I was willing to entrust my life to him despite the misgivings of others.

After getting to know Cit over the last 48 hours I must say I found him to be an alright guy and I am proud to call him an acquaintance no longer in exchange for friend.  I pulled up to his slip at the docks with two boards (5’11 J7 round pin/5’10 J7 short board), sleeping gear, food for at least 5 meals (frozen chop meat/chicken breast, angel hair pasta, sauce, olive oil, canned vegetables, cookies, granola bars, 4 plums, bacon, dozen eggs, swiss cheese, 1 tomato, garlic, bananas, which went overboard cause of bad luck, a loaf of slice bread and two cloves of garlic, I was after all in charge of the galley), an old, but freshly sharpened santoku knife, 2 gallons of water, two wetsuits and my warmest cloths.  In addition I took along a change of clothes, a camera (never left my bag for fear of Cit throwing it over board), Oliver Twist (yes I am still reading it, I have been busy so get off my back), a bottle of merlot and sun block.  I don’t know why I felt the need to jot down the contents of my provisions, but it may prove beneficial later on in the story.

The Boat

 She floats, was the first thought that came into my mind and truth be told the 25-foot sailing sleuth was although beat up far better then anything I expected.  Once a few years back some friends and I stupidly believed we could get to the Ranch from Gaviota State Beach in an old beat up rubber ducky that was supposedly “water tight” with an electric motor that barely clocked the little boat 4 knots an hour.  This is definitely a good blog for some other time, but long story short we ended up deflating about 5 miles in and had to paddle the vitiate craft in on our backs.  It was a mistake I did not want to repeat again, but left me with low expectations for his boat.

The mast looked solid, the jib was good.  It had a small but adequate two bunk cabin, new radio, GPS, an out board motor, rescue skiff, a small two gas burner range with a sink and life jackets.  She needed a coat of paint, but besides that was more then sea worthy and in the harbor looked rather impressive.  Let me tell the reader that 25 feet is very small when you’re in the open ocean taking swells over the bow.

We stowed all the gear, tied up the sails, battened down the hatches, filled the water and gas tanks and shoved off.  Look for more on the voyage there and adventures from the island in Part II.

The Channel Islands

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I’m Calling Out to You!!!

Posted in Appalling Gnarl from the Net, Life, Music, News From Lisanti Land, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 30, 2011| 7 Comments » 

*all the blogs linked in here are because they explain how I ended up where I am.

Maybe I should not put three exclamations in the title line.  Someone once told me that is the equivalent of shouting.  I could have put it in all caps too.  I’m not trying to shout at anyone in particular, but to shout out to all of you my faithful and truly loved readers, your friends, family and diverse spheres of influence.  I…well we, need your help.  Sit back, relax, read on and find out just what it is I ask of you.

Well it all started over a glass of port back in early April at a small little beatnik hole in the wall off State St.  It was right around when I wrote: “The House of Lisanti is in Disarray“, wow that seems so long ago now.  I went downtown with my friend Jules to pretty much cry about my desperate situation.  Early on in the evening she ended up bailing on me for one reason or another leaving me sitting all by my lonesome looking rather pathetic at this tiny little table in the corner.

While there weeping in my $8 glass of less then stellar port this group of four people came up and asked if they could join me.  There were plenty of available tables yet they were rather persistent.  The ringleader of the group, this strange looking Australian dude just would not take no for an answer.    Too distraught to put up any type of fight I agreed.

They asked what was a matter and my response was” you don’t want to know” To which they insisted to hear my story of deceit, heart ache, despair, destruction and ultimate heart break (although at that time I still believed I had a chance). You can read about that story in “Bowing Out“.  They were pretty genuine people and all seemed like worthy and respectable individuals, traits very uncommon amongst many today.  With their careful prodding and fun input the story took on a life of its own and when all was said and done I had four new friends.

Turns out the Aussie, Nick was throwing a party at his house the following day and invited me to come.   Although my plans were to stay in bed for the next five days or so I decided to attend.  The party turned out to be a ton of fun where I met heaps of wonderful people.  About a month later right after “One Last Perfect Day” was dropped, Nick had another party, which I also attended.  Trust me if you ever have the opportunity to go to one of his events make sure you grab the bull by the horns and show up.  They are just about unsurpassed.

Since my life went down the crapper everyone loved to tell me that everything happens for a reason and other bullshit cliché stuff of that variety.  Up until now I did not believe them and just frankly wanted to bash skulls in each and every time I heard that type of stuff.  Now looking back I realize there may have been a lot of truth in that adage.

The thing about these parties is that I seldom know anyone at them because everyone is rather new to me.  It is a completely different circle then I am used to traveling in.  The majority of the attendees are really positive, hardworking, professional people all around my age, instead of the typical burnt out waste of space characters I usually choose to keep around me.  I must admit it is a very refreshing change.

At this particular event I began talking with this pretty chill guy Ken, who ended up with in the course of a few casual question most likely just to be polite and make conversation got wrapped up into a string of tales from Lisanti Land.  Poor guy.  As it turns out he is a musician as well and we had very similar musical roots.  Ken apparently runs this theatre company here in Santa Barbara with his lovely girl friend Kyra called Proximity.

Through the course of the evening Ken said he thought he could use me in the company.  We exchanged numbers and then I cruised out to meet up with some friends at the Wild Cat, after all is there any other way to end a perfectly good Saturday? I think not.  I was thinking it a 50/50 chance he would hit me up.  I was sort of hoping he would though, because I have just recently been wood shedding on my horns hardcore and would love to work my way back into the arts.

About a month passed and I figured that Ken was no longer interested.  It was no worries I was not sure if was ready to play in that capacity anyway.  Then I got a call from him that he was having a potluck dinner meeting with the group and if I would like to join.  I still sort of thought he was just trying to get me over so I would cook a banging dish for his group (I did my usual go to pot luck dish: Baked Ziti, it feeds a large number and is absolutely scrumptious, don’t worry I promise to post some new recipes soon).  Turns out he was pumped to have me and so was everyone else there.

What an amazing group of people he had assembled for Proximity.  With out even seeing them in action I could tell these artists were very talented (after experiencing their capabilities, I can vouch for the entire group).  They were all so passionate about what they have going on.  I had not seen passion like that since my early Berklee days and it was refreshing.  It’s not about the money or the accolade, but just about the pure love of putting on an incredible performance and that warmed my heart more then anything has in some time.

Important!  Read Here:

Why have I wasted your time with this pointless boring story you ask.  First off you should all know by now I am rather long winded much like Hawthorne, except I am not paid by the word.  Second I, we at Proximity need your help.

We are a very small group who are doing this for the love and not the money.  Proximity is also a nonprofit organization (its legit and tax deductible!)  This summer we are putting on a pretty big production of an original show written by group member Karina Richardson entitled Shandy Wilkes.  It’s a pretty cool story that I will not get into here but will furnish a link to it at the end of this blog.   All I can say is that it is guaranteed to be an excellent show.  The plan is to run it here in Santa Barbara from August 10-12 at The Center Stage Theater and take it to New York City from August 18-20at The Robert Moses Theater.

To put on a performance of this magnitude it is not going to be cheap and this is where I am personally reaching out to each and every one of you.  We are looking for donations (like I said before whatever you give can be used as a tax write off) from anybody looking to support something great. You can give as little as $1 or as much as you wish.

It’s not like me to go soliciting for money or I would have a donation button here on my site. Considering that, you have to think I must really have high hopes for this project.  All I can say is that this group has given me something to believe in again, has helped me get my life back on track and allowed me to once again enter into the music world, a place I once swore I would never take part in again.  I am very excited for this, but we can’t do it with out your help.  So if you have anything to spare even if it is just $1, throw it in the pot cause every little bit helps.

You can donate and learn more about the project here: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/kenurbina/proximitys-shandy-wilkes-in-sb-and-ny

Check out Proximity and what we are all about here: http://www.proximitytheatre.org/

Support this cause for no other reason then to get me back on the sax.

Thank you for listening.

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You Can Take the Girl Out of Jersey, But You Can’t Take Jersey Out of The Girl: An Unexpected Lisanti Adventure Tour

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 25, 2011| 14 Comments »

I used to work at a surf camp in the summertime back in my late Jersey years and one thing we always taught all the kids was that a friend of mine is a friend of yours.  In surf culture it works like this:  I have a good friend Rick and he knows someone who lives on Maui.  As it turns out I am traveling to Maui and being a broke ass surfer trying to turn a dollar into fifteen cents I reach out to Rick and ask him if maybe he could hook me up with his boy out on Maui.

Rick calls his buddy Keoni and says “hey bud I got a really solid friend here who I can totally vouch for.  He needs a place to stay on the island.  Can you help him out”?  Now Keoni and Rick go way back and he knows and trusts Rick’s judgment.  If Rick claims I’m cool that is all Keoni needs to know and more times then not a person in his shoes will put up a total stranger based on the word of a friend.  That is how friends of friends become friends in the surf world.

I have spent the majority of my travels couch surfing on friends of friend’s couches and have always put up friends of friends in my own abode as well.  It’s a reciprocal process.  You can’t take advantage of the system unless you plan to give back to it or the whole thing will come crashing down.  Hypocrisy in the surfing underground railroad just does not work.  If you take a couch then you must be willing at some point later in life to offer a couch.  That is just how it goes.

So when I got call from former roommate and brother from another mother Cory Kisiel wondering if I could put up two of his friends I was more then happy to oblige even though I already had and currently still have my boss sleeping on the couch.  In this case they were suppose to be two nice ladies from Jersey just looking for a place to crash on their summer graduation cross country adventure.  As it turned out there were three of them, Melissa, Devin and Danielle, but like I always say the more the merrier.

Turns out these were some of the most chill women I have ever had the pleasure to spend time with (get your minds out of the gutter folks they were very respectable females and actually helped restore my faith in their kind a bit).  They were cruising up from L.A. and being it was their first time in California I had them take the PCH up through Malibu for the best scenic results.  While they were driving up I prepared an amazing pork roast dinner, which I slow cooked for nearly 12 hours.

It came out remarkable, the best pork roast I ever cooked.  The bones came out clean being pulled with my bare hands.  I coupled it with a Lemon risotto with cranberries, corn on the cob and mash potatoes (don’t worry I promise to have some new recipes up soon).  It was quite the feast.  My Roommate Bryan and his two friends also joined us as well rounding out the dinner party to eight, the biggest one I have ever hosted here.  It made me realize to my own embarrassment that I need to buy new plate and glassware, not having anything matching and not nearly enough wine glasses to go around.

Next day the girls were cruising up to Lompoc to go skydiving, which went off amazing for them, despite the fact that they were a bit apprehensive.  I gave them some classic Lisanti words of wisdom “Girls you miss 100 percent of the pitches you don’t swing at”.  If you’re a regular reader then you have definitely heard that one pounded into your skull a few thousand times.  I coupled it with “Well I reckon if you jump and survive it will have been a good time and if it doesn’t work out then SPLAT! No Worries”.  They did not die and were glowing from the experience.

Meanwhile I was off slinging drink all over town.  I tried to send the girls on a fun valley adventure to Ostrich Land, Solvang and few other choice locales there, but they decided to cruise back to the Barb and enjoy the beach.  Later they called me and asked how they could get to Montecito to see how the other half lives. That night I cooked the best version yet of a new dish I have been working on I like to call Pasta alla Rosado.  It’s a pasta casserole dish similar to baked ziti but utilizing a tomato/roasted red pepper puree.  I think the dish came out rather incredible, as did everyone else who partook.

After dinner I just could not let the ladies leave without a night experience of the Santa Barbara Downtown party scene.  Devin and Danielle were exhausted from the day’s excitement.  Melissa on the other hand took it like a champion, got dolled up (she looked exquisite by the way) and rolled with my boss Steve and I.  It was a Wednesday leaving us no other option but Sharky’s.  By the time we got there the line was crazy long and the cover was $10.  At one time I had some swing there but these days after taking an almost two year hiatus from the scene Im back to square one.

When all else fails I go to my standard drinking joint the good old Wild Cat.  Wednesday is hit or miss there, but luckily for us the place had a healthy mix of folks.  I looked rather proper walking in with a woman of Melissa’s standing.  Truth be told what Lisanti Adventure would be complete with out at least one night at the shitty kitty?

The next morning the girls packed up and headed up San Francisco.  Having no place to stay there either I took the liberty to call my minion turned partner in crime John Mauriello and asked if he could put the ladies up for a night to which he obliged.  Once again I sent them up PCH to get the best vistas and adventure for their buck and even set them up with this little burrito joint in Santa Cruz that in my opinion makes the best burritos I have ever eaten in my entire life.

There you have the surfing couch share system working in full effect again.  Cory set the girls up with me.  I in turn set the girls up with John.  At the end of the day everyone was more then stoked.  Melissa, Devin and Danielle have been on the road for almost two weeks and I believe have another week or so to go before making it back to New Jersey.

They keep their own blog of the tales from the road less traveled upon.  I highly recommend giving it a view: http://traveltheus.myblogsite.com/.  If you want to read their take on the time spend in Lisanti Land this link will plug you into it directly: http://traveltheus.myblogsite.com/entry18.html#body.  I always think it is interested to read the same instance described from two different points of views.  Their blog will also be featured on my link bar if you care to visit it in the future as well.

The Jersey Girls and I

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Kooky Kyle Speaks Out

Posted in Blast From the Past, Life, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 4, 2011| 11 Comments »

Its rare that I let anyone else have any word time here at Surfingruinedmylife.net except for in the comments, where of course you can sound off on anything you like.  Kooky Kyle as everyone knows took the UCB championship last year thus winning his self expensive paid trip out to Lisanti Land.  He finally booked and actually arrived to Santa Barbara this previous March.    I told Kooky if he felt so inclined to write up a summary of his Lisanti Adventure Tour and if I thought it worth while I would post it here.

Initially this blog was suppose to be posted right after he left, but as soon as he left my relationship with Ades when bad.   Unfortunately for Kooky his blog got shelved in the vault of unwritten blogs (stay tuned for a possible new segment called blogs that did not make the cut.  I actually write nearly double the amount of blogs that I post.  Some nights I come home trashed from the bar and write the strangest things, some are just ludicrous rants, others just took too long for me to finish and thus the moment passed).  Poor Kyle’s blog fell into that category, most likely never to be seen by the public.

Well my friends although three months late here is Kooky’s take on his week in Lisanti Land.  It was suppose be published right after the “Kooky Kyle’s Chris Lisanti Adventure Tour” Blog . I would give that a perusal as well to refresh your memory or bring you up to speed if your new here, also you can compare both his take and mine on the same set of days.  Similar to the blast from the past blogs I will put any hind sight notes in Red.

 ——————————————————————————————————————————————————

I first met Chris the way many of the SRL characters met him, back in the 3rd ave surf shop. Chris was a messianic like figure, sacrificing himself for surfing instead of humanity. Compared to others from that period in Lisanti Land, I did not get to spend as much time with him due to my predicament of residing in the middle of Maryland the majority of the year. For whatever reason, he eventually accepted me into his circle and much to my displeasure gave me the nickname Kooky Kyle (which to my dismay has followed me to college) I did spend some time with Lisanti building out the now gone Dings on Demand. I told my parent’s Chris was paying me, which was a lie, so I would not have to return to MD.

By my sophomore year at UNCW Chris had moved out to California. That spring, when I helped him pack his things as he got ready to leave NJ for good, Chris extended me his invitation to come visit. I took him up on it and booked a ticket for my last spring break. Due to ridiculous airline rules, my short temper and the circumstances under which I was visiting the trip was botched and our friendship almost ended there. I tried booking again in December to come visit but as a result of some glitch, my connecting flight from the east coast did not have the connecting flight to CA. Third time was the charm and I got out to CA march 11.

Based on statistics this trip seemed like a bad idea. Late season in a La Nina year, all arrows pointed towards surfing blown out beach break. But the best laid plans fall through and when one flies by the seat of their pants they are rewarded. 10 days in Lisanti Land resulted in roughly 24 hours of actual surfing.  And not at shitty C-street or ventura.

I knew the trip wouldn’t be a complete skunking when John got in touch with me and informed me that he too would be in Santa Barbara for my first weekend. It also looked like the surf would be coming to the party. I got on my flight for a change too, and then it was game on. Of course my luck is not perfect, tsunami warnings had my parents fretting . I touched down in LAX and took the shuttle to Santa Barbara, driving up the coast is an experience. “This must be C-street, that must be Pitas, that must be little Rincon, and there is Rincon.  Once off the shuttle I attempted to find the trail to Chris’s apartment but if you don’t know what you are looking at, the thing looks like a washed out strip on the hill. Luckily Chris was out from class early and he picked me up and we checked Sandbar, which was just a little too high.

After checking in with John and Brennan we hopped on the freeway to go surf Rincon, but the traffic was impossibly thick, instead we settled on Hammonds. John and Brennan met us in the parking lot for a sunset session and then we headed back to Chris’s apartment where we pregamed for the wildcat.  Everyone who comes here gets at least one crazy night at the Wild Cat.  Due to a lack of forsight, I neglected to mention my peculiar dietary habits (Kooky does not eat pork or beef, but will eat rabbit and venison) and was only able to eat the dirty rice, which was stellar.

I do not remember much of the shitty kitty, but I am told I was quite entertaining before I disappeared into the night. Blacked out I almost made it home, but made a wrong turn. Adrienne luckily came to the rescue and I passed out on the futon. I woke up $26 gone from my wallet, a handful of condoms, and a blue tire cap in my pockets.

John and Brennan had to head back to San FranFabulous, and once they were gone, Chris and I surfed Rincon, I got some that ran and even got a few turns and a barrel or two. The next day Chris had to head down to Ventura for car shopping and other errands. Since the swell was down up in SB it was a better bet for waves.(see surf log). Anyways, the car shopping was quite amusing, Chris has to be the most difficult person to sell a car to.

Sales person: “What are you looking for?”
Chris: “A car”
Sp: “what kind of car?”
C:“one that drives”

No enthusiasm, no emotion, just total apathy. See the More Shackles blog for more on this. One car dealership had no one on the lot, no prices on the cars and pretty much no one inside. When we finally found someone he brought out a rack of car keys and let us check out the cars. “Yea we should have the deeds to most of these cars” and “Yea if you guys want to test drive you can just take one of the cars” sketched us out about the place pretty badly. I still can’t believe how dumb Moses (the guy whom I bent over when I bought my car) and his whole dealership was giving Chris that car with no money down, a blank starter check, no deed to Sammy, no proof of insurance, and a terrible credit history. If you want to steal a car, Bunnin autogroup can make it happen easier than you would think possible.

Tuesday Chris had to size up some suits so we hit up all the surf shops in town, and being in town we checked Sandbar. Chris was not too excited about it, but considering how rarely it breaks, I seized the opportunity to surf it and made him surf it. At first he seemed pretty pissed about it, but once he got some waves he cheered up and was getting plenty of waves. I actually did get some really fun waves that session although I still think Rincon would have been better and I heard EL Cap was good.

Two days later we hit gold. El Capitan broke.  El Cap breaks good like three times a year. That wave is amazing, the bank there is engineered to create the most perfect spinning pits one can imagine. Sure it was packed as hell, and I had to fight for every wave, but I got a few great barrels, probably the best of my life. It was a bit rattling to have rocks thrown at me. I feel I was completely unobtrusive and stayed out of people’s way, but tensions were running high when we got out as the swell had dropped and the crowd had increased. Whatever, it was an amazing session

Chris has always imparted his fucked up wisdom to his little disciples. Whether it be on women, waves, car shopping, music or life plans he has been through some shit and usually has a worthwhile two cents to put in. After talking with him I have come to realize I can finally do the surf travel I have always wanted to do before I get locked into a career or a relationship (that’s right ladies, I am open for joy rides).

The trip was completely worth it. The food was fantastic, the company stellar, and the surf was great even if the wind was being an uncooperative bitch at times. Though all things considered it kept the crowds down and allowed me to get some waves. I strongly suggest those of you readers out there who have never entered a UCB submission to do so. If you don’t play you can’t win, and quite frankly I feel like Slater in 1999 unchallenged for my dominance here, bored and contemplating retirement. This trip is very worth it, quite frankly if we had an off day of surfing I would not have been disappointed, there was plenty of fun shit to do.

The time period when this blog came out I was oblivious that Ades was unhappy or that she was cheating on me.  I was too busy surfing and it was the last time I would be truly happy till  This week.   Looking back I would not have traded one of those surf sessions to allow for a different out come on things and I’m glad I catered to everyone’s needs who came out here for an adventure tour at least I was able to make someone happy during that time period.

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A New Normal: The One Year Plan

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Life, News From Lisanti Land, User Choice BLog, tagged , , , , , , , , on May 30, 2011| 7 Comments »

This weeks UCB brings Kooky Kyle back into the victory circle.  Back in September when my life was in order I wrote a UCB entitled the Ten Year Plan where I pretty much wrote both a very real and then a dream plan to be accomplished by the time I was forty.  You can click the link above if you missed it or just plain want to refresh your memory.

Since then things have changed quite a bit and I have found my life in utter shambles.  Adrienne finally moved out this past Saturday.  I would be lying if all of me had not wanted to drop to my knees and pleaded with her to stay.  Of course that was out of the question for both my own personal respect and the sake of her and my mental health.  I don’t really know whether our split is a break or a break up.  All I know is that it was necessary.

I’m pretty torn up over the whole thing and miss her to death.  Looking back now I realize there was just too much drama between us to fix at the moment.  Maybe in time if it was meant to be the two of us will be drawn back in to one another.  That is a long shot and one I need to put out of my head for the moment.

In the movie “Food Inc” there is this lady who has a segment in the film in which she speaks about the loss of her six year old son to ecoli bacteria. She said she had to establish a “new normal” since with out her son alive her life could never be the same again.  My despair of losing a lover absolutely does not even come close to the loss of a child, but that idea of establishing a new normal is exactly what I have to do.

Right now the immediate goal is to force myself to get out of bed every morning and stay out of it till night.  This may seem like an easy task, but when you feel crushed like I do it is very hard.  Alfie gets me up to feed him around 7am every morning but after that it’s back under the covers for me.  I try to pry myself out of bed by 9am and go for surf.  Eat a little breakfast (that’s right I am finally eating again at least) and keep myself occupied for the rest of the day.

Aflie mopes around the apartment all day long making this horrid meow that sounds like a mix between a moan and a screech and when he is not doing that he lays flat on my dresser hanging his head off the edge all pathetic looking.  I guess he is taking it harder then me.   In all actuality I was prepared a bit for what was coming, but poor Alfie knew nothing of it.  One minute Ade’s was here and the next gone for no rhyme nor reason as far as he was concerned.  He barely made it through the loss of Sindia.  Hopefully he will get over Adrienne as he sits on my lap as I write this with the most pathetic look on his face.

Attempting to establish this new normal is a bit hard at the moment considering I am also teetering on the brink of financial ruin.  Adrienne’s departure from my apartment and life came at short notice and a tough renting season up here on the Mesa.  With both City College and UCSB out for the summer there are an abundance of rooms for rent out there and not too many potential renters.  As of June 1st with a few bites but no concrete commitments it looks like I am going to be out a huge chunk of change.

Upon further inspection of the state of my bank account I determined that I spent way too much money in the attempt to woo Ades back.  As it turns out I burned through all my auxiliary funds leaving me with just enough to cover the whole rent on my apartment if (which at this point seems to be the harsh reality) I cannot find a roommate by the first.  If you live in Santa Barbara and happen to know someone looking for a place I have a really nice room in a great apartment available immediately, check it out here: http://santabarbara.craigslist.org/roo/2409336577.html

 

Currently I am unemployed till September with just a small amount of income being rendered from unemployment.  At the moment I don’t even have enough money to eat.  There is nothing worse then when your cupboards are bare.  Things are beginning to look a bit on the grim side for me at the moment.  At this point I am applying for any position I can find to get my hands on some cash and tomorrow will attempt to sell the majority of my quiver on craigslist.com for a fraction of what its worth.

Just think eight weeks ago I was on top of the world feeling strong with a firm future.  Now I may be homeless in 60 days watching my car get repossessed. Don’t worry this is all worst case scenario stuff.  I am sure some good fortune will come my way.  On the other hand my immediate survival problems trump my emotional turmoil.

If I get all this handled in the next few days then I can go back to establishing my new normal.  As far as a one year plan goes its up in the air right now.  I am going to continue with culinary school and keep working at Westmont.  I want to get back into music.  Ever since all this bull shit started I have been shredding on the saxophones again.

Over the summer I have a few little projects I want to get done.  One in particular is to finish the coffee table (see coffee table link at the top of the blog for more about that).  I want to grow my vegetable garden and work on me as a person.  At the moment I have been pursuing my spiritual side at this church call the Mansion here in Santa Barbara devoted to lost souls finding their way back to God.

So far everyone there has been really wonderful to me and are like a second family.  They all go out of their way to invite me things, make me feel like I belong and help me strive to be the great person I want to be.  Pursuance of my new faith is a serious goal over the upcoming year.  Mainly I need to regroup, rebuild myself and find out who I am again.  When you’re with someone as long as I was with Adrienne that person becomes a part of you and you a part of her.  When that person is taken from your life it is like losing an appendage.  Now I have to be strong and stand on my own two feet again.

This may be my new home very shortly. Alfie is not there because I most likely had to eat him to survive.

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I Bombed Lombard St: SF Day 5

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Skating, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 29, 2011| 6 Comments »

Lombard Street from the bottom. The difficulty level here is no joke folks.

If you’re not familiar with Lombard St it is this crazy windy street in the Russian Hill district of San Francisco completely made of bricks.  The street is a major tourist attraction and a major skate destination for hill bombing enthusiasts alike.  I have seen this street in skate videos, read about it in skate magazines and it was even used in the X-games a few times.  Ever since I was a kid I always thought it would be cool to go and bomb it.

Up until I was about 15 years old I spent the bulk of my time and efforts with skateboarding living about twenty miles in land from the nearest waves.  Once I moved to Manasquan, New Jersey I was only about two miles from the beach and redirected my focus onto surfing.  Leaving most of my skateboard dreams unsatisfied.   I practically gave up the sport till I was 23 and then thanks to a job managing a small surf shop got back into it.  I will save the history of Chris Lisanti skateboarding for another blog.

Due to my circumstance (see blogs, Bowing Out and One Last Perfect Day if your not up to speed) I found myself coming to San Francisco with a bit of a death wish.  No, I’m not suicidal or anything, although I did think of a great way to turn the trunk of my car into a make shift guillotine.  I just kind of showed up with a reckless abandoned not caring if I lived or died.  With this mentality surfing in heavily shark infested waters and bombing streets I would have never dreamed of became a very real possibility.

For that reason I found myself standing at the top of Lombard Street with a skateboard in my hand, fifty tourists pointing and taking pictures and my heart in my mouth (or what was left of my heart for that matter).  The funny thing is I really did not think I was ever going to go through with it.  Especially when I got face to face with the beast.  According to the books Lombard is a 17% grade.

When I had a look down at it I was rather intimidated.  I mean the street was nuts.  I had never seen anything like it before in my life. It was a man eater for sure.  Not to mention the fact that there were easily like 50 tourists all over the street taking pictures and a steady flow of cars driving down it. Lombard not only traversed like a slithering snake but on each side there was nothing but a sheer four foot drop off to a steep flight of steps.  Basically I was looking at getting hit by a car, taking a terrible spill due to lack of control or falling over the side and then tumbling down thirty flights of stairs.  Either way I was going to get very messed up.

John made many rational attempts to keep me from doing it and the bare truth was I really did not believe I had the skill level to complete the task.  Then I got a rush of adrenaline and remember that in order to achieve greatness one must take a leap into the unknown regardless of the consequences.  With that in mind I decided to give the bomb the green light.  I went back to my car and fully padded myself.  I’m talking helmet, elbows, and knees.  I wanted as much protection as I could get.

Mauriello was going to film it so he went half way down to document my death.  I told John he was responsible to tell the world my story if I did not survive.  I really did believe that I might die. Now we had observed the street for about twenty minutes or so and realized that when a sight seeing trolley came by it blocked traffic at the top of the street giving a three-minute window or so to bomb it.

I was standing at the top with my board preparing for the bomb and waiting for the next trolley (apparently they ran every ten minutes) when there was a noticeable break in the traffic.  John signaled me to go and I was pretty antsy to get it over with.  I ran to the middle of the street to the delight of the many tourists, hopped on my board and began to descend into oblivion.  I got about ten feet down the first turn and fell flat on my face in an attempt to power slide it.  I heard ooos, ahhs and laughter from the crowd as I got up and dusted myself off.

Determined to make it down to the bottom at all costs I jumped back on my board and kept moving down hill.  I made it through another three turns or so before falling again, but not as dramatic this time.  The entire run is around 10 switch back turns.  I ended up falling four times.  With a grade that steep you get moving very fast in a very short interval of time.  The only way to really do it is to pull super big power slides.  Most of the slides I was doing slid for twenty feet.

When I got to the bottom there were around another 30 tourist cheering and taking pictures.  I guess I gave all of them a story to tell. I came out of the last turn, did a big power slide in the middle of the cross street and then spiked my skateboard on the ground.  I turned and looked back up at what I had just done and reveled in the feat I had performed.

Then John came running down the steps all stoked as well.  “I think you should do it again,” he said.  I had already decided I was before he even mentioned it.  The second time went a lot better.  As soon as I got to the top a trolley pulled up chuck full of more tourists, who began point and yell as I bomb dropped onto my board right in front of them.  I had my rhythm worlds better this time around and only sort of fell once, although I did not lose my board.  My back foot just came off while recovering from a big power slide.  I bet if I gave it a third run I may have made it down flawlessly.

I did not want to push my luck though.  Also I was not sure my wheels could handle another run.  They had already lost two years worth of life from the previous two runs as it was.  I guess I will have to save it for next time.  I was super pumped just for the fact that I actually did it.

So many people in this life think about doing things like this and then let rationality talk them out of it.  I am not a skater by any means and Lombard St. was with out a doubt way out of my ability range.  I had an opportunity to realize a dream, do something great.  Yeah bombing a crazy hill on a skateboard is not as great as helping starving orphans or something of that aperture, but for me at that moment it was a heck of an accomplishment.  It is another check off the list.

What I am trying to say is that when an opportunity comes your way you should seize it no matter how scary or difficult it may seem.  I have always believed that anyone can do anything if they wanted it bad enough and I meet and see other people all the time who prove this to be true.  Maybe this blog will inspire you to go out and take a chance, do something you always wanted to, but have been hesitant for whatever reason.  Life is short and we are only here for a limited amount of time.  I think we owe it to ourselves to get the most out of it we possibly can.  I have said it once and I will say it again “You miss 100% of the pitches you don’t swing at”.

Stay tuned for a video of my SF skate adventures and more photos from Lombard soon.  They are on John’s Camera and he left it in San Francisco.  Click here for the video of my Lombard Bomb.

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Clearing My Head: SF Day 4

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 26, 2011| 6 Comments »

Empty Waves of north county

When I initially decided to travel to San Francisco I had a few must visit items.  Alcatraz was one of them and the giant redwoods was another.  Alcatraz was out because upon research the cheapest tour was $26 and just a tad to pricey for John’s and my budget.  Yesterday the plan was to meet up with my old roommate Brennan and go up to the redwood forest.

Being from Santa Barbara I never even thought to check the weather report before plotting out how I was to spend each day of my trip.  In Santa Barbara 300 days of the year you can count on sunny days where the temperature always gets above 70 degrees F.  In San Francisco however things are well a little bit more fickle.  While on the phone organizing the day’s festivities with Brennan he mentioned I should check how the weather was going to be.  Sure enough rain was forecasted and upon waking up it was raining and miserable out.

“When one is given lemons why not make lemonade”?  It may have been cold and rainy out but the wind was light for north county Santa Cruz and according to the surf report there were waves.  I love surfing north county and driving the PCH south from SF to Santa Cruz is one of the most awe inspiring rides a person can embark on along the California coast line.  The road traverses along steep cliff side banks with the vast expanse of the blue Pacific Ocean to the west and green rolling hills with scattered eucalyptus tree forests about them.

Along the road one also dips down into all these quaint little coves and valleys where a collection of beaches span out offering solidarity and a variety of river mouth, reef and beach breaks usually empty for the taking.  One must be an intrepid soul for although there may not be another human in sight there other creatures who lurk beneath that my not be so kind.  The men in gray suits ask no question and are non-discriminate in who they decide on taking.  I’m talking about sharks folks.  That whole zone is part of the red triangle and a seal rookery.

We started our way south from Ocean Beach down the Great Ocean Hwy and passed a number of almost adequate looking waves.  With 60 miles of road and over 100 surfing possibilities not to mention a guaranteed pay off at Steamer Lane John and I were not about to settle for anything less then great.  In my head I still had a vendetta to settle with a certain river mouth fed beach break called Gazo Creek back when I visited Santa Cruz in the fall of 2009.  Check back to the Myspace.com blogs for that one.  I may post it as a Blast from the Past at some point.

Long story short my boy Mark and I paddled out there just before dark and it was solid 8-12 ft and macking, but near perfect.  The paddle out was a nightmare and when we got out it was way bigger then we thought and both of us were on 5’9’s completely under gunned.  We freaked out, took one wave and came in.  A surf spot had not beaten me like that in years.  Ever since then like Captain Ahab and his whale I have sworn redemption from this wave.

Before getting to Gazo’s we stopped at this tiny road stop Greek pizzeria called Odyssey Café in Moss Beach just about 20 miles south of San Francisco.  I love little hole in the wall mom and pop type places that serve nothing but comfort food.  Some people are all about gourmet and fine dinning.  Sure that has its place in society but for me it’s all about places like this and I spend my time seeking them out where ever I am.

Odyssey did not disappoint and kept the good eating streak alive.  The place had four tables and offered pizza, Greek specialties and sandwiches all at a very affordable price.  I had a gyro and John got a chicken sandwich, both of which were delicious.  Did I mention they had an eight-foot rusted out metal sculpture of Tyrannosaurus Rex out front?  It was a most pleasant dinning experience.  From there we headed to Gazo Creek.

Gazo’s was small and although a few scattered lefts and rights hardly worth the shark risk.  I knew of spot a little farther south just on the other side of Ano Nuevo that I thought could be fun.  It has a name but for this blog’s purposes and the fact that I would love to surf there again with out being pummeled by angry locals I am going to call it The Saw Mill.   Basically the place has some scattered beach break peaks to the north and to the south about four reef breaks with on premiere right and left.  I had surfed the right back in the fall of 2009 and scored it.

On this particular day the left looked very appealing.  It was far from the best wave I had ever seen but no one was out, it was about chest to head high on set and peeling at least fifty yards down the reef.  I had a couple five to seven turn rides.  It was a bit soft, but every now and then there was the occasional double up and it was glassy.  As we got on our suits the sun came out.  The water was colder then yesterday except it was so much fun out there I did not even care.

John and I had a ball surfing for a solid two and half hours the entire time having the break to ourselves.  In all truth it was near perfect for about an hour and then the tide and wind slowly changed breaking up the lines.  It was still fun but not as easy to make all the connections.  It was by far the best surf session and most fun I have had in nearly a month.  My head has been so clouded lately with lamentations of my failed relationship with Ades.  I think she only popped into my head three times the entire session.

Oops I guess I am going to have to get a punch in the arm from John for that.  I have been obsessing over Adrienne for the past six weeks and now that we are done I need to get her out of my head and mouth.  I told John to punch me whenever I bring her up.  I know it’s a bit inappropriate but it has been helping.  Sometimes I mention her with out even knowing it.  Both my arms are getting pretty black and blue.

After the surf we headed back to town.  Brennan was to come up to the city and meet us for a night of more party shenanigans.   John and I had dinner at this random Chinese food restaurant in his neighborhood.  We ordered chicken chow mien, pork fried rice and General Tso’s chicken.  The General Tso’s was delicious the rest was edible.  I always make it a point to eat Chinese food when I’m in San Francisco.

We met up with Brennan and headed downtown.  I was really excited to go downtown since partying in downtown Santa Barbara is fun I could only imagine how crazy it would be in a major city.  I know it was Wednesday night but I’m sure in New York one can find some very happening parties going off.  John’s fifi being a San Francisco native knew the scene well and gave us two places to go.  The first was a club called Infusion.

At the door there was a small line and the bouncers were pulling that ratio bullshit the guys were pulling on Sunday night.  What is with this town?  Are there no females here?  In Santa Barbara the ratio is solid with out any bouncer interference.  The promoter lady tells us the ratio is 1:1 and unless you have a girl with you the chances of getting in are slim.  If I already had girls with me why the fuck would I need to go out anyway (I had a girl and blew it for just that reason, but that is why I am a fool and am suffering).  The three of us are on line when the promoter tells us to leave.  “Get off the line guys cause your not getting in”.  Meanwhile this pimped out escalade full of gangster looking Mexicans pulls up, all dudes and they walk right in.

I thought she was joking, but then she proceeded to get angry and told us to beat it or they were going to have to take adverse measures.  I have never in my life been kicked off the line at a club before.  We were three well dressed good looking guys that any club should have been happy to let into their establishment.  We went on to the next place, but they wanted $15 to get in on a Wednesday night, Brennan tried to talk the bouncer down to $15 for the three of us, but it was to no avail.

Beaten we went to some other place that had about 35 heads in it, 25 dudes and maybe 10 girls out of which maybe six were not taken and out of that there were really only two decent ones who every other guy there had already hit on.  Brennan always told me how much more fun partying in Santa Barbara was and now I believe it.  All I know is that I hate that I have to resort to going back out to meet people.  Being single sucks. I forgot how little fun the game is.

We bounced out of that place and stopped by an Irish pub that was filled with couples and people over 40 before making our way to a 24 hour diner.  Back in New Jersey I always ended my nights in a late night diner.  It was just the place to brighten up the night.  John was bummed out because he felt he let me down and I was bummed out like I am every night.  We were seated by this very attractive foreign waitress.  She was terrible at her job but good to look at.

It was a classic dingy dinner with terrible food and even worse staff.  Just what the doctor ordered for a smile.  Brennan starts running all these “what if” scenarios like he used to do when we lived together that got all three of us laughing and smiling again.  We ended up hanging out there shooting the shit for nearly two hours.  It was great to be out with two of my best friends and just laugh.  My life for the last two years had been adjoined with another’s and maybe somewhere along the way I lost sight of myself absconded in the collective us.

Now I am finding myself again and it should be a very interesting journey that I need to embrace and not cry about anymore.  John may have been bummed about not finding me a woman up here, but that is not why I came to San Francisco in the first place.  I came out here to celebrate his graduation and be among my genuine friends.  Mission accomplished.

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Urban surfing: SF Day 3

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on May 25, 2011| 3 Comments »

OB blowing it up.

After our shenanigans the previous night we were left to yet another late start.  I woke up and noticed the wind was rather light.  When I got out of bed the first thing John said to me was that we should check the surf.  Off to Ocean Beach we went.

Ocean Beach is this four mile long beach break at the western end of the city.  The place is pretty much a ghost town.  It is really weird to be at the beach looking back at a major metropolis.  Sure enough there were some less then perfect chest to head high waves coming in with rather light winds.  It looked a bit on the mushy side, but I was sort of interested to give it a paddle.

Of course we did about an hours worth of car surfing and another half hour milling around the parking lot before actually hitting the water.  We gave it just enough time for the wind to come up a bit harder making it even less desirable.  This was a relatively small day for OB and let me tell you what a bitch of a paddle out it was.  I could only imagine how much it sucks when it is double or triple overhead.  No thank you, I think I will just stick with Rincon.

Overall it was rather poor quality.  I managed to snag 11 waves, which believe it or not is pretty good for the place.  Most waves were nothing more then a drop and cut back.  I had one or two that offered up a little bit more but overall it was far from killable.  The water was freezing.  I wore a hood and was still cold the entire session.  After an hour or so we were over it and retreated back to the warmth (or lack there of) of the beach.

I was pumped to surf in the heart of the city. For how terrible it was there were easily twenty guys out.  I guess surfers are frothy for garbage everywhere.  Straight from the surf it was grub time.  I noticed this all you can eat Indian lunch buffet not far from John’s pad for $9.95.  There is nothing better then gorging yourself with massive amounts of Indian cuisine after a vigorous surf, or paddle in this case.

John and I are big eaters so you can bet your ass we did some serious damage to the place.  He did three and half heaping plates and I ate four.  We definitely got our moneys worth. The food was rather decent to.  I must say eating wise I am so far very pleased with this trip.

Following all that food John was beat and went into an immediate food comma for two hours while I entertained myself with internet porn (no, I was writing yesterday’s blog).  Around six I woke his ass up cause I was bored and wanted to explore more of the city.  He took me to Golden Gate Park where they have a really cool art museum and a science museum as well.  They were closed but the architecture of the buildings was worth a look in it’s self.

The science museum had a self sustaining roof mad of dirt, grass and solar panels and the art museum was this crazy shape of twisted metal with lots of cool sculptures around its perimeter.  Then there was this cool walk with three complimentary fountains.  It was a chill place to cruise about.

I promised John’s little fifi Elise that I would cook a meal for all of us before I left and last night was the night.  She is a vegetarian (except she eats fish, since when have fish been considered a vegetable.  I mean I know they put halibut genes in strawberries so they can grow in colder climates, but that is a whole other can of worms not be opened in this blog) so I decided to make this new dish I am perfecting (stay tuned for a recipe soon) with the hearts of anise, and a creamy Bechmel sauce over linguine with artichoke hears, fresh basil leaves, mushrooms and tomatoes.  I had to leave out the tomatoes because apparently John doesn’t care for them.

The meal came out superb.  Fifi brought over a nice bottle of resling from Napa and dark chocolate and sugar covered ginger for dessert. All and all I would say it was a most splendid evening.  Since the last two nights had been so out of control we decided to kick it in with an early night.

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Talk About a Miscommunication: SF Day 2

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 24, 2011| 2 Comments »

This town is freezing.  I was very grateful to have even woken up and not have died of hypothermia in my sleep.  We had a slow start after the previous night’s gallivanting about.  I love nothing better then a good breakfast.  John brought me to this quaint little crepe place in his neighbor hood that was absolutely to die for.  They made like 15 different crepes, and then an assortment of other breakfast items.

I got what they called a California crepe stuffed with egg, avocado, mushrooms, green peppers, tomato and green onions, served over freshly cut home fries and a side salad.  Everything was super fresh.  It tasted amazing.  Then my tea was brewed from the actual leaves, no tea bag and I had to use this tiny strainer to pour it into my glass.  It was a most splendid eating experience.

From there we decided to do a little good old-fashioned hill bombing and street skating.  After all San Francisco is one of the great skate cities in the world.  I personally would put it just second to Barcelona.  “When in Rome…”.  We cruised to Ocean Beach where there is less traffic and an agreeable number of very long hills.  I am talking easily 15-20 city block bombs that took around 5-8 minutes to get to the bottom of.

Before getting into the skate session we took a quick peak at the surf, which courtesy of 40-knot onshore wind was complete trash.  The wind was so strong we could not even stand on the dunes to look at it directly because of the sheer volume of sand blowing around.  Street surfing would have to do.

Now I have not skated since John was living at my place over the summer and I must say I was a bit apprehensive about getting wrecked or run over by a car for that matter.  John had a good handle on the situation.  We took the street trolley up the hill in between each run.  These hills were massive and would have taken way to much time and been too exhausting to walk up.  First bomb I took very conservative just feeling things out.  By the last one I was power sliding all over the place, hitting banks, ollieing gaps and just having a ball.

When all was said and done John had a broken bearing and I had just about completely worn out the bushings on my trucks.  I would say it was a successful day of skating.  Neither of us got hurt nor hit by cars.  John even saved the world from a renegade pink stripped Victoria Secret bag that was blowing all over the street.

After the skate we just sort of kicked it the rest of the afternoon.  Did a little moseying around town.  That night one of John’s friends from school was having a party.  We planned to make an appearance.  When we got there the host had already passed out.  Turns out the event had started at 1pm.  There were still a hand full of good time seeking enthusiast about the place and John’s boy Whiter this crazy dude from New England, whom was drunk as a skunk, just brought three 12 packs.

Phone calls were made and a new venue was quickly acquired.  Whitter shows up out front of the building with this red 80’s ford pick-up truck.  The truck was suppose to usher eight of us to the new spot.  Being the gentlemen we are the girls got to ride in the cab while John, myself and one other dude laid down in the dirty, rusted bed with all the beer.  My first thought was this is a very bad idea then my adventurous spirit kicked in and I jumped in and held on tight.

Now we had no idea where we were going or how far it was.  All I know is we were getting bounced around in the back of the truck being operated by a very inebriated driver for what felt close to ten minutes.  The tuck comes to a stop and we get out in the middle of one of the swankier neighborhoods in the area.  I am talking fancy high rise apartments with door men.

Immediately I am under the idea that there is no way we are going to be let into any of these places.  Sure enough we walked right into the lobby of this gorgeous building that the rent had to be at least $4,000 a month, got in the elevator and went up to the top floor.  The apartment our group ended up at was a luxury one bedroom.  Expensive kitchen appliances, big flat screen TV.  The dude had an electric drum kit, 88 key electric piano, and two really decent guitars in his bedroom.  This kid was loaded.

The party was your standard house party.  Everyone there was super nice and I found it pleasure to make all their acquaintances.  Upon seeing the keyboard this chick visiting from Idaho claims she is a classically trained concert pianist.  Our host put her to task.  “Im a little drunk so don’t expect much” she said.  As soon as she sat down on the keys she started wailing Bach and Mozart.  It was rather impressive to say the least.  After that a group of us had a little jam session that was terrible, but with a few cocktails in us I guess it was an adequate jam.

On the tenth floor of the building was this outside lounge area that gave a 360 degree view of the entire city.  I went out there to check it out and it was exhilarating.  You could see everything.  The tall buildings of downtown, the Golden Gate Bridge and the ocean.  Must be nice to have that kind of money.

By about midnight the party was done.  John and I not quite ready to call it a night hailed a cab.  I get in and tell the driver “Take me some place we can meet pretty girls”.  The driver was an Indian guy and did not have the best grasp on English or just misinterpreted what I had in mind. Next thing we know we found ourselves in the middle of the XXX district of San Francisco.  The cabby looks back at me with a shit eating grin and says “There are very many pretty girls here”.

I almost died laughing.  Not wanting to spend any more money on that cab we got out.  At the very least there was probably some rat hole dive bar we could drink a beer.  As John and I are walking around this gaudy neon light driven block he mentions to me that he had never been to a strip club before.  I personally am not a fan of such places, although they can be rather entertaining more for the actual patrons then the girls.

I told him to pick one.  Every man aught to visit a nudie bar at least once in his life.  It is sort of a right of passage.  I always thought it was something everyone did when they turned 18.  We walk into this trashy little place called the I Club.  There was a $15 cover but being it was late and a Monday night the bouncer let us cruise.

Just as I expected it was a sleazy dirty bar with average looking and in some cases over weight strippers.  Luckily for us it was just a topless club or I think it would have traumatized the poor kid.  I went and cashed in $10 for singles and gave John six.  That is how those girls earn their money, ugly or not I was not going to cheat them out of their bread.

We stayed for three acts and then bailed.  I must say although not the hottest strippers I have ever experienced they were some of the best dancers.  The place had an eight foot high pole and two of the girls managed to climb all the way to the top and then slide down it upside down with out breaking their necks.  After 15 minutes we had seen enough and bailed.

John looked at me and said I will never go in one of those places again.  I patted him on the back and said that was a very good idea.  I think that may have been the lowest level of human degradation he had ever been exposed to.  I know I always walk out of such venues with a little less respect for mankind on a whole.  All I can say is I have been in San Francisco for less then 48 hours and already have had a crazy series of adventures.

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