It’s Surfing. You Know, Like, Real Surfing
I don’t have many rules. Phil Connors in Groundhog Day pretty much sums up the rules a regular guy needs:
Clean up your room, stand up straight, pick up your feet, take it like a man, be nice to your sister, don’t mix beer and wine ever. Oh yeah, don’t drive on the railroad tracks.
There’s wisdom there, and in his heart he knows it, even though he’s kvetching a bit.
But I have one more rule: Your surfboard and your snow skis should be longer than you are.
Get yourself a long board and cruise. And by the way, when you’re making a surfing video, skip the thrash metal soundtrack and capture the ambient noise of rollers breaking and surfers yelling Hell yeah. It’s glorious.
One thought on “It’s Surfing. You Know, Like, Real Surfing”
Last time I was in Hawaii, there was a surf competition. I was asked to leave because the surfers were all young ladies, with ripped abs, and outstanding presentation. I was asked to leave , of course, by my wife, and, of course, I complied. Fantasy is fleeting, love is forever. There is no snark or sarcasm there; that is the truth. My wife is wise; I am mentally 16 years old, but I have learned to trust her…