Just Like Old Times

Had to post something to get that last post off of the front page, depressing me to no end. Unfortunately, nothing cool has happened, and I was stuck remembering that lousy session.

Today I surfed with Mark, a best bud since high school. The guy who once was so hooked on surfing, would convince me that ditching swim practice to catch the evening glass off, was the right thing to do. And I had only introduced him to surfing weeks earlier, although, as an avid bodysurfer, he was a quick study. His first dip in the Pacific since we went huntin for the lobsters. He had not surfed since I could remember. Funny how grown up responsibilities like family and career always take away silly, goofing off in the surf time. We dragged our feet this morning to miss the 6'+ high tide, and shot the shit on the way down to the beach. We found an empty spot at my usual haunt. The waves could have been better, but weather was perfect. The best part was, as usually is when surfing with a bud, the catching up and the stroll down memory lane. We were a close knit group way back when, and would surf as much as we could, for as long as we could. A few years back surf buds started to drop like flys, real jobs, wives, and kids started taking precedent over surfing and lounging at the shore. For the last few years, I have been just trying to stay wet, fitting in local, short, solo sessions when I could, broken up by the occasional trip to Costa Rica and summer dawn patrol sessions with Brother before work. There is nothing like sharing a session for hours and hours with your bros though. I can't count how many sessions we took for granted while we were young. Oceanside on a Tuesday? Let's load up the VW Bus and go! Full moon session at Lowers? I'll call in sick, gather up some gas money, we're on it! The best part of those sessions were the ball busting all the way down, and it didn't stop once we hit the water, no way! As natural selection had it everyone got to take their turn as the sacrificial lamb. The only way to gain respect for the ride back was to pull into the huge closeout, take the biggest walled set wave after being egged on by the rest of the boys, or pulling off the maneuver of the day. As luck would have it everyone would fall asleep on the way home anyway. To this day, I find it excruciating to drive through San Clemente, and not stop at Pedro's, even if I haven't surfed! "Honey, we are tired, we ate at the zoo, I just wanna get home." "But Babe, it's Pedro's, you know how little I get to drive through here nowadays?"

After scavenging knee high, high tide mushburgers for a little over an hour, I still had the best time in a long time, trading stories of how good we used to be. It is like my favorite saying ,'The older I get, the better I was.'

Oh yeah, I rode the green little fishy, but it really didn't matter.