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On a serious note:

On a serious note, one of our own needs some help. Washout shred-meister and all-around good guy Scott Hantske had his house burn down a couple of days ago. The family was all out of the house when it happened, so, thankfully, no one was hurt. But they lost everything they own. They have temporary housing thanks to the Red Cross, but need just about everything. There are three girls, ages 2, 3 and 6. ESA director Nancy Hussey is co-coordinating the relief effort. She says that gift cards to area stores or cash donations would be the most helpful. The girls are sizes 2T, 3T and 8 if you have some clothes. If you would like to help Scott and family rebuild their lives, contact Nancy.

02/12/09

Well, the temperature gods must have responded to the virgin the natives threw in the volcano. Gotta love it here when it’s in the 70s. It has eliminated one of my favorite things to complain about, so I’ll have to focus more on blogging about actually surfing. Looking out of my bedroom window this morning, it seemed like spring was on the way. Even the cardinals in my yard had the spirit of the season and were getting focused on making more cardinals. It is a thought — wonder if Mrs. Blog would be similarly impressed if I splashed about noisily in the birdbath under her window? Probably not. Besides, the neighbors are most likely stressed out enough by the Tahitian drum chant CD playing in the Tiki bar without adding any visuals. So, with the weather taken care of for the next few days, looks like the only missing ingredient for the weekend is waves. On Thursday morning, as I write this, the waves at the pier look pretty fun. Maybe even in the chest-high range. But, of course, I’m at work — one of life’s cruel tricks. If you go to www.magicseaweed.com and run the swell model, you’ll see that there is a little something on tap for Saturday and Sunday. The wind model shows some strong winds on Saturday and then going offshore on Sunday. So something to ride is a definite maybe. Tides should be high around noon, so check it early and often. Maybe we’ll get a little slurp.

With the weather getting more hospitable and the surf flat, I’ve agreed to go for a walk on the beach with Mrs. Blog a couple of times now. Mrs. Blog likes it, so I do it, but, being a surfer, walking on the beach is one of the most difficult things to do. Mostly because, if I’m walking on the beach, I’m looking at the surf. And if it is the least bit rideable, I’m wishing I was on it. Or if it is flat, like it has been lately, I’m thinking stuff like, “Wonder how tubed I could get if I was the size of a GI Joe. And, if I was, would my surf bros admire me for riding giant IOP surf like they do Laird Hamilton for riding giant Hawaiian surf? Or would they just tie a string to me and make me dance for M&Ms in a little green suit?” This is why Mrs. Blog thinks walking is good for me. It’s exposure therapy to help me deal with these inner demons. Just being on the beach is a bummer for most surfers I know. The beach is where you are if you can’t surf because of unintended consequences of your actions — like wiping out and getting hit in the head with your board. Or marriage.

Walking on the beach makes me think of this bumper sticker I saw the other day. There was this lady, dripping with jewels, driving a very expensive luxury car with a sticker on it that said “Save Sullivans Island.” I almost wrecked into a telephone pole. Save the island from what? Rich people telling other, presumably less rich, people what to do? The island seems OK to me, and it certainly doesn’t look like she needs to save it from anything, other than the have-nots who might want to come over for a visit. Maybe she wants to put up a gate — or a monthly limit on the number of fish tacos a nonresident can order from Poe’s. I honestly believe that the more money people get, the crazier they become. Take any normal person from your neighborhood, give them a bunch of money, and sit back and watch them get out of touch with reality and do stupid things. Just look at Wall Street or Pennsylvania Avenue. It’s why I like surfers. We’re all too focused on surfing to get enough money to do anything ostentatious for very long. I doubt any of us could earn enough to be rich and obnoxious. Even if you gave us a bunch of money, we’d spend it all right away on surf trips and be back to work before you know it. We’re perfectly self-regulating, like that old saying about the Irish and drink.

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