I lived in Santa Barbara during the Christmas swell of 2005, but on the 23rd of December my wife and I flew back home to Boston for the holidays. We left for the airport that morning. We had an hour to kill, so we swung by the pier. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I'd never seen such perfect barrels (still haven't). My wife told me to paddle out. She even suggested that we cancel our flight. For some stupid reason, I decided to be a thoughtful surf husband for the first time. The conscience chooses strange times to make up for former sins.
Instead of surfing, I walked out to the tip of the jetty and watched. I began talking to a guy who was filming from the beach with a fancy-looking camera. It turned out he was shooting for an upcoming film by Jason Baffa (Singlefin: Yellow). The guy wasn't a surfer, so he was having a tough time following his assignment, which was to capture the rides of Tom and Joe Curren. I offered to be his spotter. He asked if I could pick Tom Curren out of a crowd of 75 surfers. I told him that any surfer worth his salt could do it, especially one who grew up in the mid to late 1980's. Any of the land footage of Tom Curren surfing Sandspit in the film One California Day was spotted by me. That's my claim to fame. I also took a few photos of my own. The following pic is one of them.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Click above on title for a short story about a suburban couple combating domestic fascism. Published at Waccamaw which is edited by Dan Albergotti and Jason Ockert.