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Feeling Awkward?

August 17, 2011 by clisanti

First off let me apologize to everyone for the lack of writing this month.  In my defense things have been a bit crazy with the play opening, my New Jersey/New York trip/performance, breaking in a new roommate and some other incidents in my personal life I have yet to address here.  All I can say is I have been busy for me. This weeks UCB makes a winner of my boy Kiefer, whom I got good and shitty with Saturday night.  He asked, “What is the most awkward situation I can remember being in”.

 

Awkward situations! Awkward situations?  My whole life is a series of awkward situations usually brought on by bad decisions.  I never have been a very good decision maker after all.  As everyone knows when faced with a logical option I in most cases will choose the illogical.  The propagation being I always want to see, as I like to put it “what could happen”.  Thus is why we have so many entertaining stories and moments in Lisanti Land.

 

Believe me this system works both positive and negative. Back to awkwardness, I find just about every social situation I enter into to be an awkward situation.  It sounds absurd right?  Its true, my coping mechanism used to be to avoid them like the plague.  Then one day a few years back I realized I was letting life pass me by and decided to step up, dig down deep, find some self-confidence and grab the world by my hands.

 

I find my worst moments of awkwardness always seem to revolve around women I care about, particularly when I make a frail attempt at actualizing my innermost feelings.  During the end days of Adrienne there were plenty of awkward moments including when I found out she was cheating on me.  When I showed up and met the guy she was cheating with to see what I was losing out too.  When I decided to try and win her back while she clearly had already made up her mind.  There is nothing more awkward then watching the person you love walk past you, smile, say goodbye and then go off to be with another.

 

Truthfully I don’t really care to dawn on that moment of my life anymore.  Looking back I know it was silly to let another bring me to my knees.  Now my life is amazing and I am happier then I have ever been.  They have that expression “God closes a door and opens a window.  In my case he torn down a wall and I could not be more grateful.

 

Kiefer asked for a story of awkwardness and thus far I have just talked out of my ass.  I am going to tell about the first kiss between Sindia (my ex-wife for my new readers who have not been following since ’06, yeah this shit has been running for over five years now!!) and I.  Nostalgia is great and I think it may have been the most awkward I have ever felt in my entire life.

 

I had been hanging out with Sindia for about two months with the predisposed hope of us dating.  We were both really backward in the department of romance.  Myself I was still carrying a chip on my shoulder from the atrocities performed towards me thanks to my very first girlfriend and her because she had never really been romantically involved with another.  Strong feelings had grown between the two of us, but neither had brought them to contrition and things were getting very awkward as a result of the confusion.

 

Finally I had reached my breaking point and knew I just had to step up.  We met my father down in Trenton, NJ to go see this jazz combo play.  It was a fun show and a good time was had by all.  We drove back to the shore and the whole drive both of us were completely silent.  I was nervous the entire night and now full on in understanding that I had to tell her how I felt was a near basket case of nerves.  My hands were shaking so much that I had to clutch the steering wheel with them both in a death grip.

 

Sindia and I got back to the beach where she had parked her car. I think we must have surfed before going to the show.  We ended up having one of those lingering goodbyes where you basically say your leaving more then ten times but no one actually goes anywhere.  Conversation had hit a complete impasse and the both of us were just gazing into each other’s eyes.  It was a perfect moment for me to kiss here, that I stewed on for nearly 15 minutes.

 

In her frustration Sindia blurted out “so what is the deal between us anyway? Are we friends or more or what?”  “DAMN, she beat me to the punch” I thought.  By that point it was nearly 2am and there was surf.  I mean the whole time we were sitting there we could see giant walls of white water in the darkness.  My fight or flight instincts had taken over and flight was winning.

 

The larger half of me was pushing for me to jump back into my car, drive away and never call her again.  My face was so red with embarrassment that I had blown the perfect moment I could have passed for a turnip.  After about another very awkward five minutes I responded with some nearly inaudible dribble pertaining to the fact that I thought we should be more then friends, after which we hugged then had this terrible teeth knocking kiss.  That was followed up by an almost proper kiss.

 

We both sort of looked at each other as soon as it was done with a bit of awe that we let things get to that point.  Next morning we met up for a surf way later then we should have even though it was going off cause we kept each other up till 3am trying to express our feelings for one another.  There you have it, the most awkward I have ever felt in my entire life.

 

On a side note for anyone wondering: Sindia now lives in Whales, UK and is I believe a world renowned Scientist in the field of chemical paleo-oceanography or something to those regards.  I never quite got her actual field of specialization.  We broke up on mutual terms I guess around four years ago.  Our lives were just going in different directions.  We still keep in touch and from what I can infer she is doing very well for herself in both life and love.  I could not be any happier for her.

 

As for me well I don’t feel I need to fill you in considering I write about everything here on a daily basis.  If your lost there are over 485 blogs on this website alone and thousands on the old myspace blog.   Go nuts reading if you feel that inclined.  All I will say is that I too am happy.

Now that is an Awkward situation....

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Life, User Choice BLog | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments »

Shandy Wilkes is Here!!!!!

August 10, 2011 by clisanti

That was probably one too many exclamations points, but then again there is proper reason for excitement.  Tonight is the opening night of the play I have been working on for the last month or so with the theatre group PROXIMITY.  You remember back in July when I was fundraising for this cause?  Well if you don’t we needed to raise $20,000 to get the show off the ground and into the theater, see I am Not a Whore and Im Calling Out to You for more details on that.  We got the money during our benefit show at Soho, read About Last Night for more on that one and have been since working very hard on putting the play together.

When I say very hard I mean it.  These folks have been practicing eight to twelve hours a day for the last month at least.  I did not have do even a quarter of the work they had to and just that little bit was exhausting.  Tonight is the culmination of all of our hard work, Opening night at the Center Stage Theater.  The show starts at 8pm and tickets are $20.  I can personally vouch for the validity of the  integrity of the performance and you have yours truly on the soprano saxophone, so you know you can’t go wrong.

Come and check us out tonight 8pm at the Center Stage Theater in Downtown Santa Barbara.  If you cannot make it tonight or love it so much you need to see it again Shandy Wilkes will be running Thursday (8/11) and Friday (8/12).  For my east coast friends you can catch us next weekend at the Robert Moss Theatre in NYC Aug 18-20.  Hope to see you there.  Don’t miss out on this wonderful opportunity to have a grand old time and support the arts.

Here are some videos for a sneak peak at what you will be missing if you do not come out:

Shandy Wilkes Promo: Burning Dance from Proximity Theatre Company on Vimeo.

Shandy Wilkes Promo from Proximity Theatre Company on Vimeo.

Posted in Music, News From Lisanti Land | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments »

Fiesta 2011 Ole!

August 10, 2011 by clisanti

Every year Santa Barbara throws a giant five day/night street party downtown for Fiesta.  It is basically our version of Mardi Gras, although we celebrate pretty hard for the real one in March too.  Ok, lets face it, Santa Barbara can celebrate a Wednesday hard.  It does not take much of an excuse to get this town made up of a majority of alcoholics to break it down.

Fiesta is the end all be all for the SB party scene.  A few years back there was this gang shooting down there.  I was trashed and just remember people stampeding past me screaming and yelling.  Then some cop tackled me screaming, “You have to get out of here its not safe”.  I was laughing the entire time.  There are some situations in life where being a bit faded works to one’s advantage or in my case a lot of bit faded.

After that year I took a few off from Fiesta.  During those years apparently there were stabbings and other gang related issues. Also ever since the shooting the town has stepped up they’re game having police everywhere.  The place looks like it is under marshal law.   It is definitely better then the alternative when the gangs used to always ruin everything.

First Night

This year being that my new roommate had never experienced a Fiesta before I felt it my personal duty to show the guy a fun time.  I had just got out of a three hour band rehearsal and for whatever reason felt like a night of heavy drinking.  I got home busted out the handle of rum in my freezer and emptied it.  Then on the walk down I stopped by JJ’s this ghetto ass liquor store and filled my pockets with eight little airplane bottles of Sailor Jerry’s.

I gave my Roommate, Nick, two and downed the rest through out the night.  By 11pm I was gone, so drunk.  I found myself stumbling around the Presidio, lost Nick, ran into my friend Ryan from OC and some other guys I used to roll with and was dragged into the beer Garden.  After that I have no recollection of anything else that happened.  I thought I was gone for 15 minutes, only later to be informed by Nick that I went missing for nearly two hours.  I find a good black out on occasion to be invigorating.

Saturday Night Lets have a Bar Fight!

 Nick wanted to roll out and try to meet up this chick he thought he could score with.  I had my doubts, but having nothing better to do I accompanied him downtown.  I had some friends at Dargan’s and figured I would just mossie over there.  State St. was packed full of people.  I can’t remember the last time I saw the place so busy.  Every club and bar was hopping.  Nick and I cruised around a bit before going our separate ways.

I went into Dargan’s only to find out that one of my friends swooped and was gone already and my remaining two were over it and going home.  They got me a drink in their haste to leave as a consolation prize, A Jack and Coke, c’mon people for an extra UCB half point: What is the official drink of Lisanti Land and for another half point what is my preferred brand?  First person to get the right answer in the comments wins.  Then I was about to leave myself when some random guy handed me a beer and said he had an extra one cause his bud split.  I am never one to look a free drink in the mouth, let alone two.

Dargan’s is an Irish pub and definitely not my scene, but on this night there was this crazy funk band playing.  The group was five pieces plus two horns, all black guys, so you know the shit was authentic.  I was super into it and after I finished my beer got down on the dance floor.  Nothing is better then a night of good music and dancing.

I was having a blast doing my dance thing when this huge black lady decides to get up in there with me.  Now I have no prejudice when I’m getting my groove on just as long as you can keep up.  All of a sudden this big black guy grabs her arm and says “Marla what you doin?!?”.  She yells “leave it be Leroy” turns and slaps him in the face.  I busted out laughing, which further exacerbated the situation causing Leroy to swing at me.

I ducked, although a bit intoxicated my wits were still about me.  The intended assault caught the Mexican dude dancing with his lady behind me right in the side of the face.  He was none to happy about this.  In retaliation he lunged at Leroy pushing me aside.  They went at it pretty hardcore.  One of Leroy’s buddies came to his aid and two other Mexican guys jumped in to help out their boy.

Next thing I know I was standing right smack in the middle of a good old fashioned bar room brawl.  People were screaming and running out the doors. Drinks were dropped, the band stopped playing and yelled for security, who could not get through the panicking crowd.  What was I doing through all this you ask?  Mostly laughing my head off and drinking whatever un-spilt cocktails that were jettisoned in everyone’s frantic sprint for the door.  I guess everyone expected another shooting.  A fight between Mexicans and blacks can only mean trouble after all.

It was hilarious.  I full on accidentally started a bar fight. Yet did not throw one punch or get hit.  Finally the cops came rushing in and arrested everyone involved.  Luckily by that point I had slinked off into the shadows and out of sight.  Security cleared the place. The band counted off and stuck another groove.  All was well. I jumped back on the floor and enjoyed the rest of my night.  The best thing was that I had just recently told Nick that I really wanted to get into a good old fashioned bar room brawl.  Check that one off the list! That my friends is how you step in shit and come out smelling like roses.  If you are going to get into a bar fight it might as well be in an Irish bar even if it involved two black guys, three Mexicans and one ridiculous Italian.  No Irish necessary.  Sounds like the whole ordeal could have been the punchline for some bad racist joke.

Posted in Anger, Life, News From Lisanti Land | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments »

Its a Human Thing

August 6, 2011 by clisanti

This week’s UCB finds the magnanimous John Mauriello back into the limelight.  He suggested I write about my thoughts on mankind as a whole.  Now we all know I have plenty to say on this topic and have already said plenty about it.  Before I get into that I want to take a minute to remind everyone that the bonus “Top Ten UCB” for August is up for suggestions.  If you have forgotten what I am talking about all you need to do is suggest 10 one word or short topics and I will address all in one fun blog.  It’s worth double points and everyone gets one set of suggestions.  Read You’re a Fucking Idiot But So am I blog for more details.

 

Mankind baffles me.  I just don’t understand humans in general.  Up until recently I had always believed I was above them.  I have always felt at the very least an outsider looking in.  I know I am insane, but its people as a unit that really scare me.  We are all fucking nuts.

I don’t have the answers, but I think I have figured out how to eek out an existence that I am pleased with.  I watch people everyday walking through life like zombies.  I see others who are completely miserable.  Why do we always want more?  These days I find myself wanting less and constantly getting more.

Humans seem to be in a constant struggle speaking their mind.  Everyone puts on a façade.  It’s those false pretenses that fuck everything up.  Shoots I lived a lie for nearly eight years.  I don’t know what it is I’m living now, but whatever it is, it’s the most honest thing I can remember.

For all of the advancements we have made technologically, we have taken ten steps back socially.  Human communication is at an all time low.  Everything is good as long as you hit the “like” button on your friend’s dumb ass face book status.  I have an idea, call your friend instead and see how him or her is doing.

I am just as guilty, but at least I can admit that out of the 284 friends I have on Face Book I may actually know half of them, and out of that half am lucky if I actually talk to twenty regularly.  It’s much easier to hit that like button.

See that is what I am talking about.  Our society has had a social break down.  Then we wonder why no one can keep a relationship together anymore.  There is no like button in Real life.  Two people actually have to communicate with one another.

I have a few select people in my life right now whom I feel very deep love for and I know they are better then the rest, most better then me.  I try these days to only surround myself with people of quality.  In the human race there is more static then picture.  You choose what you wish to portray.

Don't let yourself get lost in the sea of mediocrity....

Posted in Deep Thoughts, User Choice BLog | Tagged , , , , , | 12 Comments »

A Sea Going Voyage: Part III; I Didn’t Expect That to Happen

August 3, 2011 by clisanti

 If you missed Part I: Gearing Up or Part II: Quality Ocean Time click the links.

We motored around the corner from Smugglers Cove and passed about three random surf spots that Cit said were of little significance compared to where we were going.  I had to take his word for it being that I had never been there before.  All I knew was I wanted to hop off the boat and take advantage of some of the fun rights I saw.

Pulling up to the actual spot was as much invigorating as it was disheartening.  Here we were out in the middle of the ocean in one of the most remote places around and sure enough there were ten boats in the cove.  One was this half a million dollar yacht from Huntington Beach with about ten guys on it.  They had all the fixings, hot tub, big cabin, bbq, probably a nice galley with refrigeration, a shower, and lord knows what else.

Meanwhile we pulled up on our barely sea worthy sailing vessel with nothing more then a hot plate, a cooler and a couple of boards.  We were pirates as Cit put it and he was not pleased with the crowd situation.  The lineup was easily twenty five guys deep, everybody hassling and frustrated.  You could hear the jeers from the boat.

I decided to cook us breakfast, scrambled eggs and bacon.  Let me take a moment to describe exactly what cooking on a boat is all about, especially in the ghetto ass little galley I had to work with.  I had never cooked on a boat before and all I can say is that it is as challenging as it gets.  Imagine getting knocked around by waves and pushed in every direction while attempting to chop, sauté, boil and sear food.  How I managed to keep from getting burned or lacerated is beyond my comprehension.  Its funny because all the pots are designed to clip into the range so that you don’t have to worry about a pot of hot water or even worse hot oil bouncing off into your face.

I think I made some pretty decent meals considering what I had to work with.  It’s a ton of work.  I kept getting knocked over by waves and was on a constant battle with seasickness.  Cit was overall pumped on the quality of the meals and it’s always good to keep the captain happy.

After breakfast he jumped in and paddle over to the line up.  I hung back to finish my food and clean up the galley.  I sat there and watched as this perfect 6-8ft + A-frame came out of deep water hit the reef and just went perfectly in both directions.  The left was good for about three to four turns before ending up on dry reef.  The right was a perfect wall bowling around the reef with anywhere from four to eight hit sections depending on the wave.  It was not really a barrel but a perfect wall with just enough lip to get gnarly on.  Cit said you could not ask for a more rip able wave and I would have to agree with him.

According to Cit there was a landslide 200 years ago or something like that and it created this perfect reef pass.  He is not a geologist by any means, but he seemed to know his shit about the island.  If you looked at the way the place was laid out there was nothing but sheer cliff all around and then this small rocky beach with a perfect wave in front of it followed by more cliff.  There was enough evidence for me to accept his reasoning.  Truthfully I did not give a shit how it got there. All I cared was that it was there and I was about to rip the fuck out of it.

It sort of reminded me of Hammonds but with out the shifty lineup and a bonus killable left.  The crowd slowly began to thin out as the early morning crew slowly made their way in to eat their own breakfast, “the bacon effect” as Cit called it.  I jumped off the boat and the water was a surprisingly warm, 65 degrees.  Hurting from the previous night I took my time paddling over to the peak.  Cit was sitting way outside and not looking to mix it up with the pack yet I sat with him.  Then a set came in.  Cit went on the first one leaving me out the back and in perfect position for the second.  I turned and burned to the chagrin of everyone out there.  One dude even yelled “way to just paddle out and snag a set wave”.  Shoots I don’t know how he was going to get it anyway if I was in the perfect spot for it.

Right off the drop I did a huge vertical tail free reo, which I recovered backwards in the white water.  I thought I lost the wave but then bottomed turned right into the next section perfectly and banged out another three good turns.  After that wave I hung on the inside and scraped a ton of fun lefts and rights.   I stuck a nice front side air reverse landing nose pick only to spin around staring dry reef in the face.  I bailed and swam up to face to avoid taking the rocks head on.  Still I got worked pretty good on them and learned that urchins live on those rocks the hard way.  I calmed down a bit after that thinking it would not be a good idea to get injured that far away from proper medical attention.

I paddled back to the outside to focus on the sets, but I think the crowd was still rather salty that I snagged that set wave off them.  I got a really nice right super deep off the pack.  This Long boarder tried to paddle on me, but in the process created a perfect section.  I hit it, launched a nice clean three foot backside gap air, landed perfectly on the other side, coupled by a few good hits and finishing with an air reverse in the shore pound.  Upon paddling back out no one had shit to say to me any more about anything.  Instant respect.

We ended up surfing till round two when the wind came up.  A decision needed to be made on whether to hang around for the wind to go offshore and have an evening session or cruise to the Santa Barbara side of the island and go for a hike.  Cit had his heart set on the latter, I really did not care either way, almost wanted to just sail home so I could get back to the Barb.  The ruling was to go for the hike.

We docked in a place called little scorpions that was supposedly a safe anchorage.  Thanks to a sudden change in the wind it became hell on water.  I cooked us up Spaghetti and meatballs as a celebratory meal.  Exploring the island was a total trip.  Turns out there used to be a ranch settlement there in the early 1900’s and as a result the parks department has a chill little museum and old farming equipment set up.  The place really was amazing and I am very fortunate for the opportunity to get there.  On the way back to the beach to claim our skiff and paddle back to the boat we passed this random group of people hanging out.

“Hey, you guys want a cocktail?” a voice chimed.  Well you folks know that one does not have to ask me twice and I think Captain Intoxication who was already five beers deep and a glass of wine felt the same.  These people opened up a cooler that contained a properly stocked bar.  Then they busted out a bit of chronic as well.  At that point I had a feeling we were not getting off the beach.

Normally I’m not one to indulge super hard (ok that’s a lie), but as I looked at our boat getting rolled around in the distance I knew I needed all I could get in me if I was going to make it through the night.  The stars were stunning.  I had not seen a sky like that since my New Zealand days.  Our new friends were hired kayak guides who spend five days on the island, two days off.  In a way I almost envied them.

Cit and I decided to cruise as our wits gradually came back to us.  As we were walking away he tripped over a rock and fell flat on his back.  Some how he managed to miss hitting any rocks.  Good old fashioned drunken luck strikes again.  We sloppily attempted to push our dingy back out into the water through the by then dicey shore break.  In the process we ended up springing a leak in the bottom of the hull.  To get back to the sailboat it was a quarter of a mile row through what now had become some very rough seas.

This was all going down in a beat up five foot dingy.  A few minutes passed and I felt a tingling in my feet.  The first thought that came into my head was “man that was some really good ganja”.  Then Cit yelled, “We are talking on water”.  I looked down and sure enough I was in water up to my ankles and growing.  Luckily there was an empty milk carton in the dingy.  I ripped the top off and started bailing to literally save our lives.  Its shark water out there, the night was cold and we were drunk.  I am pretty sure if the dingy sunk I would have drowned.

The Gods were smiling on us that night cause we got to the boat with the skiff barely afloat.  Immediately we pulled it up on deck and gave it a quick epoxy, during which I passed out.  I awoke to Cit freaking out at around 3am as the boat was getting tossed back and forth by five foot seas.  It was too dark to set sail but way to uncomfortable to sleep.  The two of us sat there in the dark sick from the rocking and drinking, just waiting for the sun.

At 5am we set sail.  The wind was howling and it was a different kind of scene then the previous day’s.  It looked so angry, like a scene out of Hemmingway’s Old Man In the Sea.  The sky was dark gray, the sea a bellowing deep greenish blue.  There were white caps everywhere.  Once under way Cit handed me the till.  He was exhausted and very hung over.  Turns out he did not get any sleep that night.  I was feeling bad too, but Cit definitely needed a nap.

I grabbed the till and held a steady course.  I had to work it so that the boat rode up and down the swells evenly to keep as minimal water from splashing over the bow as possible.  At first it was daunting.  Then I got the hang of it and I was cruising.  It became quite salubrious out there in the wee hours of the morning.  There was not a boat in sight except a giant barge being pulled by a tugboat and visibility was limited.  I could see the island getting smaller behind me and the ominous gray horizon in front of me; my trust was in the accuracy of my compass to get us home.

We moved at a humdrum pace towards Santa Barbara, yet I was ok with it.  I was in need of some time to be alone with my thoughts.  That has sort of become a common theme for me these days.  I am not going to get into that now.  There will be plenty of time to come for Lisanti revelations. All I can say is I cherished every minute of “Quality ocean time” as Cit put it the very first moment we left the harbor.

After four hours I could make out the big while buildings of City College and knew our time away from the stain of man had come to a close.  Cit woke up, came on deck and we lowered the sails.  The sea went completely calm just a few miles from shore and we motored it back to port.  Just like that it was back to reality.  Its good to escape from life sometimes, I do it a bit more often then I probably should.  Its not like my life is real by any means.  Most people are like why do you need to escape?  Lisanti Land may be a fantasy for you my friends out there in internetville but for it is reality and every so often I need a break.

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 6 Comments »

A Sea Going Voyage, Part II: Quality Ocean Time

July 31, 2011 by clisanti

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

July 30, 2011 by clisanti

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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Oh That Summer Time: June Surfing 2011

July 27, 2011 by clisanti

June was quite the month. We had a few shitty wind swells, a few shitty south swells, but overall very little to get excited about.  As a matter of fact I think I have been more excited by watching Alfie switch sleeping spots all day.  June was also a break out month for me.  It was the month I stopped feeling sorry for myself and began surfing again instead of blaming it for all my problems.  That being the case I made the most out of every day of surf we had.  Here is how the month of June broke down.  By the way I have not done write ups on April or May so you will probably see those in the next few weeks.  Don’t forget to visit the Surflog to read about my surfing and life chronicled journal style everyday.

Number of Surf Sessions: 18
Days Surfed: 17
Time Spent in the Water: 27 hours
Number of Waves Surfed: 387
Waves per Hour: 14

Spots Surfed:
New Jetty – 5
Santa Clara River Mouth – 3
Stanleys – 2
Emma Wood – 2
C Street – 1
Zuma Beach – 1
Leo Carrillo – 1
Gold Coast – 1
Dredge – 1
Rincon – 1

Top 3 Sessions

3. 6/7/11 AM Session: 2-4+ft, Zuma Beach
Time in Water: 2hrs
Waves Surfed: 38
I love Zuma.  Its one of my favorite waves in LA.  Sure its nothing more then heavy closed out glorified shore break, but I think by now everyone should know that is right up my ally.  Did I mention the backwash is sometimes bigger then the wave your paddling for?  The place can amplify just about any south swell in the water.  I checked Ventura Harbor early and it was looking doable but rather meager for my personal taste.  I knew my buddy Kevin was going down there and gave him a call to hitch a ride.  We cruised to Zuma and it was chest to head high and super punchy.  The wind was a bit onshore but it looked boostable to me.  As usual when I am at Zuma my froth meter goes berserk.  I tore on my suit and was out there for a boost and barrel fest.  Then after an hour it glassed off, but  got super lully.  Still there were some choice nugs to sink your teeth into.  I was having a ball till some local decided to sit right on top of me even though there were plenty of peaks for everyone. I tried to paddle away but the dude kept following me.  Finally I was just plain over it, stuck a backside air reverse and called it a day.  Stick that in your pipe and smoke it angry local with all your super cool fly aways.

2. 6/5/11 PM Session: 3-5ft, Dredge
Time in the Water: 2.5hrs
Waves Surfed: 34
I got out of church and had four missed calls from all my Ventura friends.  I knew there was going to be some minor bump up in wind swell but I just figured I would nonchalantly cruise down to Emma Wood on high tide.  I called back my boy Ryan and he was frothing on Dredge.  Ryan rarely is stoked on anything so if he was pumped I knew I had to get down there.  Sure enough it was solid chest to head high with the occasional bigger set with very nice long right hand lines.  Some were easily peeling for 75 to 100 yards, an anomaly for Dredge.  There were about six guys on it and some slight cross chop from the SW wind.  I got out there and for the first hour it was a bit bumpy and just when I was about to bag it the wind died out and things glassed off.  For the next hour and a half it was a playground.  I had at least four that I nailed no less then nine turns on.  I would have surfed longer but I was exhausted between all the paddling, surfing and walking back up the beach.  What a great day of surfing.

1. 6/14/11 AM Session: 3-5ft, New Jetty

Time In Water: 3hrs
Waves Surfed: 35

A serious lack of motivation had me slacking this morning.  A small jump up on the buoys had me give it a shot.  Next thing I know Im standing on the dunes looking a super fun combo swell peaks at New Jetty, glassy, head high and only a few guys out.  Well it did not take me much time to throw on my suit and jump in the water.  I was joined by my friends Bobby B and Gordo, both happily married with kids, thus helping to restore my faith in relationships.  All I can say is I had a ball and surfed amazing as well.  What a session.  Everyone was just going off and super stoked to be out there.  As depressed as I was on both Sunday and Monday that is how stoked I was today.  A good surf always puts things in perspective.

 

Talk about excitement. Nobody knows how to have a good time quite like Alife.

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About Last Night

July 26, 2011 by clisanti

Eight years ago I sold my soul for a measly $100 a gig playing with a discombobulate excuse for a jam band called Wooden Satellite. The name itself was a god dam oxymoron.  I mean if you built a satellite out of wood it is surely going to burn up in the atmosphere.  That is what for the most part happened in our case.

 

The group was myself on the saxophones, a guitarist, drummer and bassist.  Practices were spent with a three way drunken fight among the three while I blew Coltrane on my horn.  The fights always ended with a good old fashion bong rip session.  It did not take long before I stopped going to practices.

 

The gigs were a joke always at dive bars, but they had a following and I always got paid.  Finally it all ended because we lost a very lucrative running gig at a local bar. The three idiots did not want to pay their bar tab.  I felt like I was in the movie Blues Brothers sans Aykroyd and Belushi and the talented players.  Lets loose a $400 a week gig over a $100 bar tab real fucking smart fellas.  Rip another hit.

 

It was at that moment that I vowed never to pick up my saxophone in pursuit of pleasing the ears of others, who did not deserve to hear what I had to offer.  Fast foward eight years later.  You can only begin to imagine the gigantic internal conflict I was faced with when asked by my friend Ken to get up on stage with his solo project and blow.

 

I had been playing my horns regularly again and thought why not take a risk?  I spend more time then not preaching to everyone here to go out and lay it all on the line.  Since I hate hypocrisy I made the decision to put myself out there vulnerable for all to see.

 

What the fuck am I talking about you ask.  Well as most of you know by now I have been working with a small nonprofit theatre company here in town called Proximity.  Last night we had a fundraiser at this quaint music venue here in downtown Santa Barbara called Soho.  Initially I figured I would just go for support but then found myself up on stage with three saxes around me just like old times.

 

The music as Ken put it was “Electro-Funk-Pop” a very unlikely combination, but when all was said and done it came out awesome.  I had a few very close friends show up to the gig and the room was plenty packed with all sorts of cool cats out to support a good cause. I showed up and did my usual pre performance routine.  I put myself in a corner away from everyone where I could get in the zone and be alone with my thoughts.  Focus on the task at hand so to speak.

 

Normally I would have had a drink or two to set my mind at east, but I promised Ken no drinking before the show.  Then it was time to take the stage and my mind was a complete blank.  I knew what needed to be done and I was completely focused like the pinball wizard.  I was just a side man, but the thing about my playing is once I get going I never seem to be able to stay in that role

 

I looked out at the audience just as we were about to get started and I remembered how much I loved looking out from the stage into the lights, just barely being able recognize faces.  That moment of anticipation right before that first note is blown.  I recognized a new person in my life whom is steadily becoming an important character in Lisanti Land.  I was glad she came and could share that moment with me (look for more on this mystery woman soon, Im not quite ready to expose her to you folks yet).

 

The first two songs kept things mellow for me, a few easy riffs, some long tones and melodic lines.  The next few began giving me some room to blow.  By the end it was guns a blazing I had fully remembered why I got into music in the first place.  The crowd was on their feet.  I did my usual non-committal eye contact, half bow, turn of the shoulder thing that I always used to do on stage. Got my horns and stepped off.

 

The whole ordeal was eight years in the making and it went down in a mater of 35 minutes. In that short time I was reinvigorated.  Any doubts I had about my life after all the bullshit I had to cut through the last few months were gone.  I remembered exactly who I was and why I exist.  I define who Chris Lisanti is and no one else.

 

As I got off stage everyone was hugging each other and celebrating.  Turns out while we were performing my theatre company reached our goal of $20,000, the reason the event was happening in the first place.  The gnarly thing was we had only raised a little over $13,000 before going on and there was only about 16 hours left.  If we did not make the full quota we would have gotten nothing at all.  Big things are about to happen and just when I thought the golden age of Lisanti Land had passed we go and enter an even stronger age.  Cheers everyone.

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“Addicted”, Amy Winehouse

July 23, 2011 by clisanti

I am dropping a special edition of Groovin’ High tonight to say a sad good bye to yet another entertainer tragically lost before her time.  Just in case you have not heard Amy Winehouse was found dead today at age 27 in her London apartment, most likely as a result of a drug overdose.  Whether a fan of hers or not one has to be a little alarmed when a person of talent, beauty and accomplishment still cannot keep their shit together.  I for one am saddened by the whole ordeal.

Sindia turned me on to Amy Winehouse a few years back on a trip to Australia and since I have rather enjoyed her music. Sure she was a mess, but who isn’t?  When Adrienne left me her tune “My Tears Dry On Their Own” spoke to me.  Addicted is sort of a funny song about how her girl friend’s boy friend keeps coming over her house and smoking all of her weed.  I looked through a ton of different versions, even found one where she was so messed up she could barely stand.  I hate remembering people like that.  In this live version she lays down a confident performance that I think she was happy with.  Amy may you be in a happier place now.

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