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Hollywood21115

How is it that the month of March has already thus come upon us?  It seems to me like I was just getting finished with Bizarro’s and my birthday weekend, which happened the first week of February and now I turn around and it’s March.  Where did the time go? What happened?  Hmmmmm…..My friends and I used to always joke about how days would get away from us.  Now I guess I have moved on to entire months, maybe even years.

The Chris’ Birthday Bash

ChrisBday4It was suppose to be a one night drinkers take all kind of party of Feb 6th.  Instead it rolled into two solid nights of Wild Cat mayhem.  This was an important year for the two of us.  Bizarro was turning the big 30 and I had planned to announce my semi-retirement from the Santa Barbara party scene.  It has been a great run, but I am pretty sure there is more to life then partying, casual sex and getting completely obliterated and I feel it is time to find out just what that is.  I have had a long and fruitful run starting from when I was 13 years old back in Manasquan, New Jersey being held upside down for a keg stand by a dude twice my age to prove I could hang with the big boys.  Since then I have been mixing it up with both friends and randoms all over the world.

There have been fun times, sad times, pathetic times and then the times I just can’t remember, mostly the latter.  At 34 I am starting to feel my age and I think my body is telling me to seriously give it a rest.  I always said that once my drinking began to affect my health and subsequently my surfing I would slow it down.  Plus I sort of liked some of the positive effects in my day to day not being drunk, sick and hungover had to offer.  Finally since Heather and I are giving things yet another go and a major part of our problems was my excessive social agenda stepping away made sense.  Of course Lisanti can’t live with all work and no play.  That being said I have limited my party appearances to just a handful of times a month and stay on the more sober side when I do.  So far so good.  Better to go out on top then found a bloated dead body lying face down on the sidewalk somewhere in a puddle of your own piss and vomit.

Surfing

NewJetty22415_1

Photo: Christopher Dunlea

I don’t really know whats to be said here that hasn’t already been done in detail in the surflog. El Nino started out strong bringing heaps of perfect angled WNW swell that basically lit up everything in this area.  I even got a session at Sand Spit.  Unfortunately I was stuck working most of the time and was only able to half utilize the swell on offer.  Then it pretty much went flat for the back half of the month.  For a very thorough look at the month of February in my surfing life click here.

Some early month point action.  Photo: Christopher Dunlea

Some early month point action. Photo: Christopher Dunlea

Work
I have come to the realization that I hate the act of working in general.  Sure, I especially hate my job, but I don’t believe that matters as much as the fact that I hate that I have a job.  More then anything I find it quite absurd that I have to strictly adhere to a schedule that has been forcefully imposed upon me against my will.  I don’t really feel like I need to be at work from 12-8:30 pm five days a week.  Honestly I could get the job done in like five hours.  Why can’t I come in at 1 some days or if the surf is going to be better mid day come in at like 10 am, prep out all my shit, leave and come back at like 3?  Its just asinine in my opinion.   Yes I understand that one has to have order and conformity in the work place.  Unfortunately my surfing schedule and my working schedule so rarely coincide with one another.  Fuck work!!!

Maybe I would be more jazzed if I actually made some real money and got to live the “good life” so to speak.  I don’t make shit.  I have way too many responsibilities for my pay grade and most days of the week am directly in charge of anywhere from 10-30 employees.  On the weekends I am the infallible boss.  I do all this for less money then my superior pays to get his car detailed each week.   I should just go get a second job so I can be less poor and then I wont have to worry about fitting in surfing cause there just won’t be anytime for it at all.  Then again the second job would put me in a higher tax bracket and in the end I would probably have less take home.

There was a time in this country about 50 years ago where almost everyone made a real living wage instead of just 25% of the population like it is now.  I swear one of these days I am either going to cash out and disappear to someplace with good waves, cheap living and no crowds or go postal and start taking heads.  Blaaaaaaah!!!!!  Fuck it, I will just commit kitchen seppuku with my 7″ boning knife.
SeppukuBesides that I don’t really know if there is anything more to really say about the month of February except that its fucking over.  Looks like El Nino has decided to quite on us along with the entire North Pacific.  With some luck there might just be a few fun wind swell days here and there.  For the most part I am looking at six months of shitty south swells, long gas and money burning drives to either Malibu or Jalama and of course absolutely terrible Emma Wood.  The only upside is with te coming of May and the end of the semester approaching I have only two more months till being laid off for the summer.  The downside to that: absolutely no money.  I may have to suck dick for crack and then sell that crack…happy March everybody!!!!

Whoot, Whoot,  small, shitty windblown Emma Wood for the next six months!!!!!  Photo: H.Rayburn

Whoot, Whoot, small, shitty windblown Emma Wood for the next six months!!!!! Photo: H.Rayburn

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Bookclub1

I have recently gotten a few messages/comments about what happened to the book club.  Some even asked if maybe I have killed so many brain cells from all the drinking and black outs that I might not even have the capacity to read anymore.  Never fear my friends I have not turned into a blabbering idiot just yet.  (hmm…do I even read most of what I write here cause all this site is composed of is the rants of a blabbering idiot).  Anyhow for those who have been wondering what literary works have recently tickled my brain here is what I have read over the past few months since the last time I decided to write a book club entry. In chronicle order from when I read it.

Book XXVI: The Prince and the Pauper, Mark Twain 1882, Bantam Classic Edition, October 1982, 219 pages.

What can I say I love satire, fuck my life is one.  Mark Twain has never failed to write a satire I have not enjoyed.  His wit in my opinion is surpassed by few.  In this classic he takes on the absurdity of the English monarchy and rule in the mind 1500’s in a story of a case of mistaken identity.  The Prince of Whales inadvertently switches place with a common London impoverished youth whom he looked similar to.  The novels plays out the misadventures of both as they become accustomed to their new lives.  I wouldn’t call this the best Twain novel I have ever read, but it is a short andan enjoyable read.  Certainly good beach reading.  Ironically I pretty much finished this waiting for the tide at Emma Wood.

Book XXVII: Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin, 1956, 224 pages

“People who believe that they are strong willed and the masters of their destiny can only continue to believe this by becoming specialist in self deception.”  This was actually a Heather pick.  I make very few forays into modern literature on my own accord.  If someone in my life gives me something to read that was import to him/her then I make it the next book on my list.  I have found you can learn a lot about a person by what he reads or doesn’t for that matter.  Don’t ask me what I learned about Heather from this one cause I still can’t put my finger on it.  Giovanni’s Room takes place in 1950’s France and is the story of a bisexual early twenties male’s struggle to come to terms with his homosexuality, which eventually becomes him and his lovers undoing.  Baldwin does a masterful job of writing about the some what unpleasant and unsettling subject of homosexuality as it pertains to Americans in the 1950’s yet I would say still to an extent holds true today.   As for me the book reminded me of one two many nights at the Wild Cat.

B00k XXVIII: Persuasion, Jane Austen 1818, Signet Classic Edition, 1996, 285 pages

“She Learned Romance as she grew older-the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning.”  Austen’s portrayal of 18oo’s England and its upper class is always so remarkably splendid.  I love the manners and the courtships.  All the little acts of politeness that has all but been forgotten in today’s crude society.   I can escape to Austen’s world any time I like just by picking up one of her books.  I am pretty sure at the time I read this I needed such.   Persuasion  was her last novel and was not published till after her death.  Anne the middle daughter of three from a falling yet good standing family is forced at an early age to break a love engagement with a Naval officer as he is not considered an appropriate candidate for a women of her rank.  Years later he is thrown back into her life except this time as a man who has made his fortune.  At the same time another suitor, a family relation who would make the perfect societal match also steps into the game.  Anne is torn between her childhood love and saving her family’s good name.  Like I stated earlier Austen is always a good read and I enjoyed Persuasion as much as any.  Totally worth a read if you feel in the mood for that romance thing.

Book XXVIII: As You Like It, William Shakespeare 1599-1600, Signet Classic Edition, 1998, 227

“With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that hath not the gout; for the one sleeps easily because he cannot study, and the other lives merrily because he feels no pain; the one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury.  These time ambles withal…With a thief to the gallows; for though he go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there.”  So do you notice the pattern here.  I got lost in Austen and then subsequently lost in my own turbulent love life (see “I Still Wear My Heart on My Sleeve” blogs, PART I, PART II, PART III).   Shit maybe I should have read Dostoevsky instead and my current state of things would be a bit more palatable.  Anyway with the state of things at this time in Lisanti Land Shakespeare made sense.  I chose As You Like It to get lost in the “Forest of Arden” for a while.   Orlando’s quest to find and win Rosalind’s heart seemed a perfect fit since I was sort of in the same parallel.  Actually a funny thing happened to me about two days after I finished the play.  I was playing my Saxophone down at Leadbetter Beach in front of my house, a common occurrence for me whenever I find myself in hard times of introspection, depression, or just plain boredom.  Those of you who complain I don’t perform enough find your way down to Leads after dark and you just may her me blaring hip jazz into the darkness of the night.  I had finished blowing and was walking back to my apartment when I was stopped by a woman who had been listening to me play for a bit.  We got to talking and turns out As You Like It is one of her favorite Shakespeare play of all time.  We ended up talking till nearly 5am.  She moved to Oregon or something like that directly after our conversation and is now engaged and doing well.  Crazy right?  The power of Shakespeare.  Anyway I know most people get down on him because of the language, but it really is beautiful and once you get used to reading it you find yourself engrossed in his amazing stories.

Book XXIX: The Scarlet Pimpernel, Baroness Emmuska Orczy 1905, Pocket Books Enriched Classic Edition, 2004, 356 pages.

“Strange extremes meet in love’s pathway”.  My life ended up leveling out into a sort of crazy semblance of its former self only completely different as I embarked on yet another very serious relationship and all the stupidity, anger and frustration that goes with such. Oh yeah and I suppose there were some good moments too, though I stress the word moments.  Wait, I am still stuck in it at press time.  “Stupid is as stupid does” classic Forrest Gump.  Who know we could learn so much from a retard.  The Scarlet Pimpernel is a swatch buckling good time (ok, it said that on the cover).  In all seriousness it is a really cool historical fiction work about a league of English gentleman who took it upon themselves to save French aristocrats who were destined for guillotine during the French Reign of Terror.  Its a roller coaster ride of narrow escapes and near encounters with death.  Throw in a little love story for good measure and you have a winner in my reckoning.  Definitely worth a read and is a very high paced novel that can easily be read in a few short sittings.

Book XXX: Two Years Before the Mast, Richard Henry Dana, Jr. 1840, Signet Classic Edition, 2000, 391 pages.

I am not really a non-fiction reader though at the moment it seems that has been the bulk of my reading, soon to change.  This novel is basically Dana’s first hand account of his own personal sea going voyage as a common sailor after he had dropped out of Harvard due to health related issues.  His journey took him around Cape Horn to trade for cow hides in California during the 1830’s.  As a new Californian myself I found his descriptions and commentary on California coast rather intriguing.   It is also a perfect historically accurate look at what a sea fares’ life during that time period was like.  Dana spares no detail in his descriptions and insights making the book a bit of a slow read though very interesting.   Eventually the book was responsible for the early US settlement of the state.  Its not the most thrilling read but if you ever wondered about California or sailing during this time period you will be hard pressed to find a more thorough account then Two Years Before the Mast.

Well there you go, every book I have read over the last six months or so.  Normally I would have read double that amount, but I have been crazy busy and my life super hectic.  Currently I am reading Fates worse then Death, by Kurt Vonnegut.   Wow this was exhausting.  I need to try and stay on top of this blog more.  Thanks to John Mauriello who on my recent San Francisco trip mentioned that I had not wrote about what I had been reading in quite some time.

bookclub2

Yes I have become one of those crazy book people. At my current rate I will be dead before I get to read all of these novels.

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No blogs, just surf

No blogs, just surf

June came and went with not a piece of writing here on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net.  For that I must say I am sorry.  I thought I would take a moment to explain myself a little bit.  First off things have been a bit on the crazy side.  Alright, when isn’t my life on the crazy or hectic side?  Normally by July I have hit my stride of chilling on Uncle Sam’s nickel.  That was exactly where I saw myself by now.  Unfortunately my superiors at Westmont had other plans for my summer.  While I would usually find myself living on the dole of unemployment with a little hustle and flow on the side I found myself stuck in the kitchen four days a week.

The Westmont Grind

Back in April I had been asked if I wanted to work May term hours.  May term is a one month micro semester Westmont runs for it’s students.  Like any institution of higher learning this means they compress classes into a short time period but still charge students the same amount of money per credit for the normal semester.  The motherfucking business of education.  “Hey come spend all your money and go into debt, then graduate with a useless degree and have to go work for minimum wage for some idiot like me”.  The only difference is I too am a well educated idiot working way outside of my degree or education for way less money then I should.  I think I just summed up every American from 22-35 at the moment.  Ain’t this country grand.  America land of the free only if your rich while the rest of us have become the in debt slave laborer. Sorry for the rant but it has been a while.

I did the math and realized if I worked all of May and saved the bulk of that money I could kick it on unemployment for the remainder of the summer and still have my “extravagant” or lack there of life style with out any change, unlike my usual summers where by August I am eating out of the trash and basically sucking dick for crack.  Well maybe not that last part, but you get what I am saying.   The fuckers stuck me on the morning shift meaning I had to get up at pretty much 5:30 every morning and leaving me forced to surf windy blown out shit in the afternoons.  It was only temporary…or at least that is what I thought.

May term came and went and I began getting even more hours as an influx of camp and convention groups came in.  Apparently Westmont whores out its campus to anyone willing to pay for it all summer long.  This sort of makes me a prostitute for the institute I suppose.  Whatever, dollar bills!   I have been working about 25-40 hours a week, work depending since May.   My schedule changes week to week which is certainly a pain in the ass.  I still manage a surf everyday and am stacking some mean paper while flipping burgers.

Reaping the fruits of my labor.  Your looking at a bacon double cheese burger for yours truly.  You think I would feed the customer this well, as if.  Yes that is a plastic plate on top a 350 degree F flat top grill.  Safety as always is my number one concern.

Reaping the fruits of my labor. Your looking at a bacon double cheese burger for yours truly. You think I would feed the customer this well, as if. Yes that is a plastic plate on top of a 350 degree F flat top grill. Safety as always is my number one concern.

Also it looks like I may actually become the full blown sous chef this fall considering that our old sous chef and my fellow friend in suffering Geoffrey is taking off a few months for hand surgery due to old age.  The guy is like 62 and been a war horse in the kitchen for over 40 years.  I am bummed to see him go as I have been able to learn so much from him and he over the past  six months has become sort of a mentor to me not to mention a great friend.  Honestly I don’t really want his job.  If I get impressed into it I am looking at twice the head ache, three times the responsibility, 100% more bull shit for if I am lucky $2 more an hour.  Whooooooooooooooot!!!!!!!!!  I am actually going to have a sit down with my general manager this week to see what is going on with the fall semester.

Catering

This was close to 150 salads for a wedding at some Hollywood directors 30 million dollar estate in Montecito.

This was close to 150 salads for a wedding at some Hollywood directors 30 million dollar estate in Montecito.

Those of you who frequently read the surflog know all about most of everything I have written and will write in this blog.  Basically I may not write blogs everyday or even monthly these days, but I do however write in my surflog, my online journal, daily.  So if you have not discovered it yet give it a peruse every now and again.  My boy Trevor recently became Executive Chef for a local catering company here in Santa Barbara.   I will not disclose the company so as to not cause any problems that this blog so often does in my life when I name, names.

He asked me if I would help a brother out for a bit while he got on his feet there.  At the moment I am currently his sous chef.  I am a double sous.  Always a fucking a bridesmaid and never a bride!  On my days off I am stuck either at an event busting my ass or in his kitchen prepping for an event.  Its a good learning experience and even more paper to stack.  At this point I am doing the best I have monetarily in about eight years or so.  Last night I took Heather out to dinner, where I proceeded to get sloshed and told her “MONEY IS NO OBJECT”.  And you know what?  It wasn’t…

Here we are at the Palace toasting to Trevor's new found success

Here we are at the Palace toasting to Trevor’s new found success

And we cooked up a surf and turf feast for the occasion.  That is grilled tri tip, Grilled fresh local prawns, orzo and roasted vegetables, and goat cheese horse radish bruschetta

And we cooked up a surf and turf feast for the occasion. That is grilled tri tip, Grilled fresh local prawns, orzo and roasted vegetables, and goat cheese horse radish bruschetta

DING REPAIR

Look at the ghetto set up I have going here.  My board is propped up by a cooler in the ally way on the side of my building.  I like to call what I do no guerrilla surf board repair.

Look at the ghetto set up I have going here. My board is propped up by a cooler in the ally on the side of my building. I like to call what I do now guerrilla surf board repair.

It never fucking ends. Just when I think I am out I am always sucked back in.  I don’t even have a space to repair boards.  I literally glass boards in my bathroom and then sand them in the ally next to my building.  Its a fucking pain in the ass and I hate it.  Yet for some reason surf boards keep showing up at my house to be repaired.  It’s true that  I am always breaking my own boards and needing to fix those.  I have four spares meaning I only really need to fix boards a few times a year when I have destroyed all four.  Usually in that time period I end up getting a new one anyhow.  My quiver is in reality a bunch of destroyed boards with one or two good ones.

People still show up at my house with dings.  They hit me up on Facebook.  “Hey so my boy said you fix dings…ummm can you help me out bro?”  My own friends are constantly hitting me up to repair their boards.  “Please Chris, don’t make me go to a surf shop, your the man”.  I am the man who hates fixing surf boards.  I even get phone calls on occasion from people in New Jersey who need a board fixed.  WTF.  It will never end will it?

Just in case you thought I was exaggerating.  That is a surfboard about to be glassed IN MY MOTHER FUCKING BATHROOM!!!!!!

Just in case you thought I was exaggerating. That is a surfboard about to be glassed IN MY MOTHER FUCKING BATHROOM!!!!!!

Surfing

I have actually been surfing up a storm.  Jalama has been the best it has been in ten years.  The kelp is good, the sand is decent and there have been waves thus I have been staying wet.  A normal day for me goes like this.  I wake up a 5:30am, go to work and make food for about eight hours.  Then I get off at around 3 pm, meet whomever hit me up first at my apartment to go up north with me.  I only take one person and its first come first serve, no nepotism.  Read The Rule of Two blog for more on my philosophy on that.
Jalama7314-173

I change out of my work clothes, load up the car and shove off on the hour or so drive to Jalama.  When we get there its not over, oh no.  There is about another 25 minutes of walking on the beach to get to the spot, maybe further, swell and crowd depending.  Then we surf for two hours, make the walk back, followed by the drive.  If I am with Trevor we always stop at Denny’s in Goleta for a post surf dinner.  If it is a party night then my day is not over.  I come home, take shower, suit up and cruise to the Wild Cat.  As you can see by this account of my day to day there is not very much time for blogging.
SpringSurf14-524I managed a perfect month back in May surfing every single day of the month 31 sessions in 31 days and a few doubles as well.  I don’t think I have accomplished such a feat since I lived in New Zealand.  It was fucking exhausting and I surfed all sorts of garbage in all sorts of dumb crowds.  You can read the May surflog to find out all about that one.  Basically I have found a renewed love for surfing and my performance is off the charts. I may be surfing better right now then I have ever surfed in my life.  Maybe I will write something about the perfect month here if I ever find some time.
Jalama61214
I guess that pretty much should bring everyone up to speed on what has been happening in Lisanti Land.  Heather and I are still together.  Even I don’t understand how or why that is.  At the moment it is actually going along at steady calm.  Whether or not I am doing the right thing for me or her is yet to be seen.  Just as I felt at the beginning I still feel now completely uncertain and confused.  Then again who really gives a fuck anyway cause at least I am surfing every day.

My cooking partner in crime Calvin finally moved back out to Santa Barbara and is currently living on the couch here at the Palace.  Where would I be with out a guy on the couch?  Him and I are in the process of the early stages of planning that Italian restaurant I always talk about opening.  He moved here with the intention of getting this place off the ground with me.   With any luck our goal is the try and open it by July of next year.  Lets keep our fingers crossed.  Expect to hear more on this from time to time as it begins to consume my life.

Here is some homemade potato gnocchi in a meat sauce to get your mouth watering.  This is just a taste of what I will be serving up at my restaurant.

Here is some homemade potato gnocchi in a meat sauce to get your mouth watering. This is just a taste of what I will be serving up at my restaurant.

What can you look forward to here on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net?  Kooky actually wrote a Kooky’s Korner for me to publish.  Of course this happened about a month ago or so, but my lazy ass never got around to publish it.  Since I have not heard from him since he may be dead in Tanzania right now, though he will live on here on the blog.  Nick the Kook was nice enough to write some of his recent adventures in Chile.  He wrote these like two months ago and I never posted it.  I am sure at some point I will rant about some bull shit like how I got a pimple on my right ass cheek and now it hurts every time I sit down to take a shit (that has not happened).  There you have it,  the last 45 days or so in my life.  Glad you still decide to read the trash I put out here.  Bye bye for now…

Calvin, Mark and I doing some R & D for the restaurant at the Wild Cat.

Calvin, Mark and I doing some R & D for the restaurant at the Wild Cat.

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Chris Lisanti & Alfie

Well about a month ago I started to tell a tale about Heather and I in “Whats Been Goin Down in Lisanti Land” blog.  Since then I pretty much have fallen off the face of the earth as far as blogging is concerned.  Although that is not entirely true.  If you are an avid reader of the surflog then you already know most of what I am about to impart here. In that case consider it a more in depth recap of a very strange, emotional and trying month in Lisanti Land.  Those of you who have been on the edge of your seat I really hope you didn’t fall off.

When I last left off Heather and I had decided to take a break or more like she decided she needed more time for that break.  I did my usual grieving and spent the weekend at the Wild Cat finding my way to fancy town with Bizarro and the usual regulars.  I had by that point just about written the relationship off.  Fuck, I am a pessimistic person after all.  Its so much easier to figure you are going to get screwed in the long run.  This way if you do get screwed at least you knew it was coming and if you don’t then you are pleasantly surprised.

It all started at work on the Monday after the above mentioned Wild Cat romp.  I was lamenting of my pathetic situation as most despondent poets and love enthusiasts do in such a situation to my buddy Hugo.  Hugo to his credit has been with his girl friend for about a year or so and in his own way is rather romantic about it.  If he reads this he will probably shank me for stating that.  He told me straight forward “If you love her then fight for her”.  I didn’t really know what to do or how to do it.

She wanted a break and space.  How could I manage to make contact with her with out violating those wishes?  Then the gears started to turn in my head.  I immediately went to Shakespeare and re-read Romeo and Juliet.  Alas that romance would not do for it did not apply to us.  I thought harder into my archives and then it hit me.   As You Like It, was the perfect place to start.  Just as Orlando went into the forest of Arden to woo Roslyn I to would take up my quest to the West Side of Santa Barbara for my Heather.   I hate to say it, but I think I would rather spend a night in the Forest of Arden then on the West Side.

I know I denounced flowers and poetry years ago after failed attempts with both Adrienne and Vespera.  Then again that is the language of love.  At first you don’t succeed, try, try again.  With that on my mind I proceeded. It also helps to note that I figured I had lost her forever anyway thus what harm could a little courteous harassment do? I decided that at seven days before we were to meet I was going to leave her a flower and poem a day on her doorstep every morning.

Flowers in Victorian times, when matters of the heart and lust were done more discreetly held many different meanings to their beholder.  I started with a singe yellow rose for friendship on the first day with a small poem and elaborated every day after.  I was making custom bouquets, hand picking cards from this salvage shop downtown that went with the message I wanted to convey.  I even potted a small arrangement in her grandmother’s antique flower pot she had left in my yard.

Mentally I was barely sustaining through all of this. On one end the effort put forth gave me a sense of hope.  On the other a higher sense of despair.  We were suppose to get together on a Thursday, but a deadline at work had her unable to meet me.  Discouraged, yet not put off I rescheduled for that Saturday, 10/19.  An alarming email sent by her to me, which I may have looked into a bit too hasty caused me to cancel and reschedule for that following Tuesday.  That’s the problem with email its way to vague.  I hate technology.  Lets just go back to horse and buggy times.

Years ago I scored Santa Cruz with Mauriello.  This was Middle Peak at Steamer Lane.  On this swell it could have been just as good if not better

Years ago I scored Santa Cruz with Mauriello. This was Middle Peak at Steamer Lane. On this swell it could have been just as good if not better

Then I got hit up Sunday morning by Mauriello claiming quite the NW swell was to hit his way.  All signs pointed to Santa Cruz being epic.  If I was to go I would have had to bail Monday night after work and not bet back into the Barb till that Thursday.  The allure of scoring some of my favorite SC spots was very appealing.  I almost pulled the trigger on it.  If I were to blow Heather off yet again what kind of message would that have sent?  

After much deliberation I decided for once in my life to go with my heart and not my crazy surf addiction.  I regrettably declined John’s generous offer to score three days of what could have been some epic surfing.  My life has been full of amazing waves and as hard as it was to not grab a few more I knew there would be plenty more opportunities to get barreled in my life.  If I had blown off Heather that could have been my last chance.  To my devote surfing readers believe me the decision sounds crazy.  At some point in life surfing will not be able to fill your every need and want.

At this point in my life surfing although is still at the forefront of everything for me it is not my end all be all.  Consequently the surf was absolutely shit here in the 805 during the time span I was suppose to be scoring up north.  As it turned out Heather ended up canceling on me due to her not feeling so well.  I knew she was not blowing me off.  When you were with some one for as long as I was with Heather and as intimate, you know when they are telling the truth or not.  We rescheduled yet again for Thursday, 10/24.   At that point I was bummed I had not just pulled the trigger on the Nor’Cal’ trip.  While I stayed home and agonized John charged size-able Ocean Beach.

Ok, I dont think it was this unruly, but Mauriello lives for this shit.  Nothing but big cold closed out barrels !

Ok, I dont think it was this unruly, but Mauriello lives for this shit. Nothing but big cold closed out barrels!

Thursday came and I must say that I woke up with an air of calm relief that if was finally time to face my demons.  Yet at the same time I was as nervous and anxious as I have not been in some time.  Unfortunately my shitty boss roped me into working the early shift by pulling a dick move and putting me on the schedule for the AM shift with out telling me.  I work and have been working pretty much the same schedule for the last four years.  That being the case there is no point in me checking the schedule ever.  Since I didn’t check it if I didn’t show up it would have reflected as an attendance demerit.  After so many demerits you get a write up and after too many write ups you get fired.

At the moment I am on somewhat thin ice as it is.  One because I can’t help but flap my mouth around when things are bull shit.  Two because this whole Heather situation has had my attention and concentration highly diverted, not to mention my nerves and patience lacking.  Three my drinking problem which I developed post Adrienne makes me a liability at times.  All my higher ups need is a valid excuse to can my ass with out my being able to go to human relations and demand a fair labor hearing.  Isn’t working for a big corporation awesome! If I get fired I am going to have to move on to my back up plan which is sucking dick for crack and then selling the crack for a profit.  As glamorous as that life sounds I think I will pass on it.

I pulled myself through a shitty work day made worse by the feeling of the unknown of what the out come of the evening would be.  I am talking beyond butterflies.  I could not even eat.  When 3:30 came I planned on bolting home and getting prepared both physically and mentally for the evening.  As I was cleaning up my station around 2 pm I got a text from Ryan that Rincon looked fun.  No matter the verdict of the night I thought there no harm in bailing out of work an hour early to go score some fun Rincon.  Lets face it nothing makes me feel better then a good session at the Queen of the Coast.

No matter what life sends me its all left on the beach especially when that beach is Rincon.

No matter what life sends me its all left on the beach especially when that beach is Rincon.

I got a few fun ones up at Indicator and River Mouth and for at least an hour I was able to forget my problems.  Or lack there of respective to people who have real problems in life.  To each their own.  The starving kid in Africa wishes he had the scraps thrown away by a low income American, who intern wishes he could eat filet mignon.  Meanwhile the rich recollect on those bygone days when he was young and free and not so tied down by all his worldly assets.  Its all relative.  With a better mindset I drove home ready to face whatever my fate would be….

****To be continued.  I know what an asshole I am.  First I don’t write anything for over a month and then I leave you with a cliff hanger.  Well read the old surf logs from October and November if you really can’t wait.  Its late now and I’m tired.   The rest of the story is pretty good and I do promise all the feeling and emotion that may have been graced over in the surf log and even some hindsight looking back over the situation. In the meantime here is a cute picture of Alfie to tide you over.*****

Black Cat with Crazy Hair

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Book XXV: The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins, 2008, 374 pages

“You don’t forget the face of the person who was your last hope…I wonder if she will enjoy watching me die.”  These two lines should set the tone and mindset for the entire novel.  In The Hunger Games Collins tells the tale of a dark future for man kind in which the divisions between the haves and have nots are great and control is instilled with fear.  Just like its predecessors, 1984 by George Orwell and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, The Hunger Games paints a picture of complete class control with little upward mobility for those of the lower ranks.  I for one can never get enough of these tales of warning of future Utopian societies based solely on the disappearance of the individual for the good of the whole.   Collins designs on paper what is to look like a rather civilized society. that is until the reader finds out that once a year an event takes place that involves children from age 12-18 fighting each other in an arena to the death until only one remains for the entertainment of the entire civilization.

For me the novel plays with the age old idea behind a mob killing.  The atrocity of taking a human life and especially that of a child is naturally appalling, but work it into a popular entertainment format and instill fear into the people who oppose it and all of a sudden it becomes a yearly celebrated tradition.  If one should take anything from The Hunger Games it is that if something seems inherently wrong to a person then that person should do everything in his power to stop it even if it costs said person’s life.   I have read way too many of these works and have traced them all to a future we are all headed to if changes are not made soon.

As far as the work itself goes I must say that I found the story to be written at a very easy level of literacy.  Since the book was geared to a younger audience and a less educated reader then myself I will let it slide.  On another note considering the narrative is written in first person from the mouth of an impoverished, poorly educated 16 year old girl the wording makes perfect sense.   My final thought is that it was 1984 meets “The Running Man” only with out a bad performance by Arnold Schwarzenegger.  I guess Hollywood produced from what I heard a pretty shitty movie of the same title on this book.  All things considered it was a fast read that I did enjoy.  If you want some good beach reading The Hunger Games is just that.

For our next book, XXVI lets go back to some higher order literature and enjoy The Prince and the Pauper, by Mark Twain.  Happy reading everyone.

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Lisanti Safety grab

 

What the fuck is going on here?  I turn my back for a minute, take a brief hiatus from hating life and some mother fucking small time poor excuse for an impostor decides to go and steal my thunder!  What am I ranting about incoherently you ask? Check this shit out: SURFINGRUINEDMYLIFE.COM circa 2012…Guess what? SurfingRuinedMyLife.net was established in August of 2010.  I know I have been a bit of a slacker as of late.  To be honest all sorts of random ass bullshit has been going on in my life both good and bad and I have not cared to write about everything as an actual post.  I decided to use the surflog for my day to day and blog posts for things of more substance or lack there of.  Just like this very important post.

I know imitation is the best flattery, but if one is to imitate at least get it right and don’t be some poor excuse for another shitty bull shit surf clothing company that means to portray a lie of a life style only really enjoyed by total and utter kooks.  Oh except for in this case where it appears to be two fat old men who can’t surf for shit and are probably just eternal kooks. Just when I though things in this world could not get more fucked up and stupid some idiots design a terrible logo, put it on a cheap fifty cent t shirt and then try and turn around and sell it for $22.  Meanwhile I give away the real thing right here for free.  Kooky Kyle said I should go after them for a share of the profits.  That sounds like a nice idea but I don’t want to end up owing anymore money then I already do cause I could not imagine anyone buying that ugly shit let alone wear it.

Yeah surfing a ton of fun. Just watch out for those fiberglass shanks attached to the bottom of your board

Yeah surfing a ton of fun. Just watch out for those fiberglass shanks attached to the bottom of your board

If you cruise through their nice little site and I stress the word “NICE” (real quick how nice is any of the content you read here?) they have tales of how surfing ruined their lives.  One is about ditching work on a good south to go surf Malibu and what a great time they had.  Let me tell a real tale about going and surfing Malibu on a south swell.  I left my apartment around 8 am, fought three hours of traffic on the 101 in my shitty beat up Saturn with out air conditioning.  Spent another hour finding a parking spot which was impossible forcing me to illegally park.  1st peak was shit house packed with kooks, long boards and SUP’s.  I paddled, got burned on every fucking wave I went for and some chick on a soft top ran me over and ripped my suit.  Then I got back to my car where I had a $100 parking ticket on my windshield and my driver’s side mirror was knocked off where some asshole side swiped me.  I paid $4.50 a gallon to fill my tank so I could drive home, where my angry girl friend made me sleep on the couch cause I forgot it was her birthday.  Now that my friends is a true story of how surfing ruined my life!

My fellow friends at surfingruinedmylife.com continue on in their about us section to talk of their life long devotion to surfing and how that devotion ruined their lives.  Hey boys here is a look at mine.  I spent 22 years chasing terrible waves all around the world in search of fame, fortune and glory.  So far all it has brought me is heart ache, frustration, and anger.  At 32 years old I am broke as fuck, owe money to more people then I can count on one hand, work a dead end job, can barely remember what the word stoke means and have nothing to show for my quest then tons of memories of perfectly good closed out barrels.  It has cost me a marriage, countless relationships, more money then I have earned, friends, family, jobs, schooling, opportunity, and dreams.

PGCB Fun

PGCB Fun

Am I complaining? Absolutely not.  On the contrary, I would not have had it any other way.  Before enlightenment chop wood carry water, after enlightenment chop wood carry water.  I have sacrificed everything in life in order to surf.  I do surf, nearly every single fucking day no matter if it is one foot and blown out or ten foot perfect Rincon.   Please my fat iconic, ironic, counterparts over at surfingruinedmylife.com cease and desist in your retarded portrayal of how surfing ruined your lives.  News flash; all of you have wives, families and most likely decent jobs and I am guessing all of you own SUP’s too.  Nice pictures of surf trophies you found in the trash at HB Pier.  I filled a garbage pail with surf trophies once too.  The guy who threw those away, well I bet surfing really did ruin his life.  Your shit is weak.  So I would like to invite you guys over at surfingruinedmylife.com to come up here to Santa Barbara and suck my BIG FAT HAIRY COCK!!

I think this picture of this bear says it all

I think this picture of this bear says it all

Now here is a guy who surfing has ruined his life.

Now here is a guy who surfing has ruined his life.

 

 

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