I WONDER WHAT HB IS DOING . . ., WED06FEB2013 MOR

Loc: El Porto

Time: 0800-1000

Conditions: 2-3 FT, walled, low tide.

The other day, Monday to be exact. Cassady. He’s my classmate in the master’s program. He said to me: I got a stand up barrel this morning, dude. Huntington!

For a couple weeks

I’ve had the feeling

That

HB might be the place to be

Due to my financial situation, I’m not buying a state parking pass. Maybe after my taxes, but not yet. After all. Local might be good, maybe today might be “the day.”

I’ve been frothing for surf. I think

Last night I felt it most

I was so

Irritable

And my poor girlfriend, she had to take the brunt

Of my

Dickness

So

This morning

Much is at stake

I pass Hammers

Small

Jetty

There are some guys out

Looks walled

But I skip the Porto lot and head further south. I find street parking. The high school groms are calling it a morning. I see Jordon, the female, teen, surf prodigy leaving. She was still a little girl when I first met her, now, she’s like an adult. Can easily change her wetsuit for business slacks and a coat, in a cubicle, telling people that they need to be at work on time. My how time flies. I’m old.

And the surf?

Well

It looks bad

If Porto was unappetizing, then this is definitely “that” with a piece of shit on top.

A guy walks past me, dripping wet in his hooded wetsuit and says, “It’s actually fun out there.”

I smile. Not to discredit him. It’s not that I “don’t believe,” but I’d rather trust my eyes, fork out some coins for the session of a lifetime

Or not

Maybe for

Just a wave

With a turn

It is what it is

#

     I park by the bathrooms, paddle out, and

The crowd is

Eh

Medium

Not too crowded, not empty either. A good left forms in front of me on the way out, but I have to duckdive. I sit in that spot, hoping that it’s twin brother has the same route to work. He doesn’t. I maneuver through the bobbing torsos, but it’s not an aggro morning

Except for

One guy

On every wave he takes

He feels he must

GRUNT

Very loud

Loud indeed

And for what?

For

Three-foot waves

Spilling waves

on a day where it’s good to practice, verified by the many beginners (it’s obvious because something’s off, either lying too far back on their boards or paddling for waves that won’t even break. Much love to them, no disrespect, but you know what I’m saying. Don’t you?)

I catch a right, but I’m rusty. I try to topturn but can’t release the line that my rail draws for me.

Yes

Rusty

It’s a morning with a lot of closeout waves, but it’s not all for shame. In fact

There’s one right

Before it closes out I hit the lip

No

No spray

But to tag the section at that critical moment

When the lip is coming down

It whips my nose down straight

Fast

God damn

It felt good to stick that landing.

I caught a left

Another fast wave that should have been closing out

But there was a section

I did a “rushed” carve off of the lip before it closed

Good enough to count

For a

Wave

I had a couple rides like that

But most

Were little explosions of white wash with me in the flats.

Shan comes out, fifteen minutes before I’m done. After one of my waves, I’m paddling towards him. He’s bobbing, and behind him, oblivious to his consciousness, there’s a fucking wave coming his way. Guys on the outside are trying to get it, but they’re too deep. “Shan,” I say, as I motion towards the outside. He looks, but turns really slow, without a purpose, as if . . .

He’s just glancing at something

Not important

Just a look

I say

“Shan . . . you should GO.”

He does

Catches it

Even though he doesn’t turn

There is a little shape

For this day

It qualifies

As

A good ride.

I catch a closeout in. He’s only ten minutes behind. He treated me to lunch, probably a month ago. I suggest that we catch some breakfast

Off to Mandy’s

El Segundo

Two skillets

It’s good, but the mushrooms . . . I’ll never order the Homemade skillet again. They tasted a little

Old

Like they were scooped up from the bottom of a sink of dirty dishes.

We talk life

And

Watch TMZ

And the news

All disasters

People are dying

Everywhere

At least that’s the way the news portrays it.