Three Nice Waves

August 2004



In April I took a trip to Boise. The trip had a dual purpose, to check out an old Victorian house I was considering buying and to also visit my old friend Dan who was as close a friend as I'd ever had. The house deal fell through but seeing Dan again was pricless.

We had met at a college football game at night in 1977 and we were both students at the local junior college. We became fast friends, I admired his intellect and his knack for grasping deep concepts. I think he liked how I made my way into various and diverse social circles (translation...he talks to a lot of chicks, how can I be like that?) We did college drama together, were on the college tennis team as doubles partners and hung out with others we deemed worthy of our esteemed company. We also shared an obsessive loyalty to the Los Angeles Rams and we knew the one day they would be led to the Promised Land. We spent less time together as the 80's came into prominence, he got married, had kids and I soldiered on as the confirmed bachelor. We still played a tough singles match every week and we matched each other's strengths perfectly, he was the perfect practice partner.

He moved to Boise back in 1999, and I think he got out of California at just the right time. The outrageous price of real estate and the ever growing population were making the California Dream into a bit of a nightmare. I missed him terribly and always had fond thoughts of our adventures in college as well as those times we shared the odd theory of the universe. He was after all, a former physics major. I saw him in the summer of 2000 when he came back to California for a visit and while he was staying at the in-laws we managed to sneak in another tennis match for old time's sake. Driving down the tree lined streets with the top down on my Saab Turbo Cabriolet and with Sarah Brightman's dulcet soprano surging in our ears we felt like the college boys we still thought we were. We didn't see each other again until April of 2004, I took a flight up to Boise and got to see his new city as well as consider it as a potential home for myself.

In my latest phone call with him this week he informed me that he was taking the whole family to California in their RV and planned on staying at nearby Carpinteria State Beach, could I join them? Of course! So I packed Jackson into the back seat and we both made the 30 minute drive up to Carpinteria, the quintessential California beach town if there ever was one. After negotiating the State Park's campground I finally found them all down on the beach, enjoying what seemed to me a perfect sunny day. This beach is the one that people think of when they envision the perfect beach. Clean sand and crystal clear blue-green water was laid out before me, contrasting markedly with the polluted shoreline of the beach that I presently called home.

Dan's brother, Alex, was there as well and I hadn't seen him in years. Dan asked if I'd brought my bathing trunks and I said that I hadn't. I had Jackson with me and I couldn't let him out of my sight so I felt I couldn't really have the luxury of going for a swim. I thought about about that for a second with some sadness, here I was about to move away from California, wouldn't body surfing be a great way to go out? I reversed my earlier refusal to swim and took him up on his offer for the spare swimming trunks. After a quick change we made our way towards the surf. Boldly running towards the waterline we almost felt like those athletic lads we once were, immortal and unafraid. Such bravado. The three of us taking on the surf, registering shock as the cold water washed over us, each of us getting used to that cold in his own way. Alex the methodical one, Dan jumping in all at once and me inching into the water oh-so-slowly. We timed some great waves for body surfing and took them as far as we could, paddling furiously, settling into the wave, right arm thrust out in front for balance. Beautiful! I hadn't felt such a rush of unbridled joy for many years, I almost forgot what it was like to have fun. More waves followed with each of us proclaiming that this next one could be the big one. It never was but we didn't know that. The next big one could be right over the horizon, just waiting for us to take it further than the last. Into the record books I tell ya, into the record books. At least a couple of them had been well worth the effort.



After about 25 minutes of this Dan says it's time for one last wave and then it hit me...this would be the last time I did something like this for a long time. My upcoming move to Columbus was ten days away. Who knows how many years it would be before I saw a beach in California again? If this was to be the last one then let's make it a good one! We skipped many swells, most of them not up to our lofty standards. Then the big one appeared and the three of us took it in unison as far as we could. While sprawled out in the sand after our ride we looked at each other and gave the thumbs up, it had been a thing of beauty and a very worthy farewell to California.

Comments

EcamirG said…
oh, you don't know surfing until you're in the middle of lake erie and/or the scioto river, braving the rapids and riding a fierce wave until forever.

okay, that's not in the least bit true. still, lake erie's kind of pretty, so there's that.
The Fool said…
Grim, the utter lack of a surf culture here is unacceptable. Think a surf shop would take off? Maybe sell some wet suits and stuff? Hmmmm?

Kurves, can't we live in sin first? Just for a little while?
The Fool said…
I think if I work at it I can totally transform the culture here. My plans include the simultaneous arrival of The Beach Boys along with a surf shop and a head shop. And if all that doesn't work I have The Edmund Fitzgerald as a backup plan. I hear that Gordon Lightfoot is available.
EcamirG said…
darling, all we have in ohio is head shops.

as for the lack of surf culture, well, all i can say is that you'll need to bring an ocean here first. i recommend the indian. no one's really using that one at the moment.

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