Surf @ MindSay

Everyone that has any interest in the true origins of beach apparel or surf wear should visit: www.royscabana.com if you want the real story! - Cabana

okay so a girlfriend of mine beat me until i agreed to keep a blog, simply becuz she happens to keep one.  i dont really know how she manages to keep one with her schedule but since she does, i guess i can too.  lets see...today i got up, checked the surf, hit the surf, washed off the surf, removed the surf apparel, put on fresh surf apparel, and went to breakfast at a little deli that sits near the surf.  the psycho friend i mentioned a minute ago called me while i was tryin to eat my breakfast in peace -which she has a knack for doing, i might add- and we argued heatedly for bout 15 minutes and then hung up.  i called her back after i was done and we argued some more.  then we hung up and i had to go get new oil filters for my jeep.  after i did that, i stopped in to harrass my mom, as is customary on days when i have nothing better to do and she was in a bad mood becuz a bunch of shit was going wrong so i skedaddled out of there and went back home.  my mom sells real estate for a living but shes a real jerk when things go wrong. i called psycho again and we dueled for another 20 minutes or so but then she shouted at me that i was bothering her and interrupting the flow of her day and not to call her anymore until after 6 PST.  so i called her about 5 minutes later and she really let me have it good.  after that a few people came over and we shot some ball and went to lunch.  after lunch we went our separate ways to get ready for some dinner party one of the guys that works for one of our team sponsors is throwing later tonite.  he's an alright guy, i guess, but i would rather chill out at a barbeque in someone's backyard.  so i guess thats my entry for the day.  people actually do this shit?  im a smart guy all in all but i cant imagine someone wanting to do this everyday.  psycho [ok her name is heather, shes pretty sane] manages to make a semi-intersting blog but she also leads a semi-interesting life.  i just wake up, eat, surf, hang out, and thats about it.  im just not that intersted in being useful unnecessarily.  anyway i think im gonna eat before i go to this stupid party in case the food is a bomb.  im a growing boy, i need to eat when i need to eat.  and i guess this would be the end of day 1's blog. 

A walk to the beach after midnight. Craving time just to myself.

 

Darkness all around, there are no lights on the boardwalk to the beach. A footstep echoing on the boards, becoming muffled as the walkway descends into the sand.  Soft sand churned into small mounds and hollows by numerous footsteps during the day becoming flat and firm as I work my way out towards the ocean. Its rumble heard as soon as you step outside the building.  Another black silhouette, standing silently further down the beach. Laughter flows out of the darkness, somewhere in the distance down the beach, from unseen sources. It has been a while since I was at a beach.  I used to live within easy driving distance of the beach, visiting friends on Pensacola Beach, often but not often enough. Being served fuzzy navels as I sat on their roof top at sunset.  My name then was Beach Bunny even though I would scarcely qualify for that name in the typical sense of the word.  When I moved away, further north to the cold and occasional snow, my name became Snow Bunny.

 

I had forgotten the pull of the water.  From a distance it is a low rumble of sound, indistinguishable noise.  But as I walk out to meet the tide, I hear its whispers as it breaks against the beach rushing towards me. My name, softly spoken.  I watch, fascinated as against the darkness, lines of white appear, exploding in a running line parallel to where I stand.  Moving swiftly like some unseen beast racing back and forth just past the water's edge, waiting for me to venture into the tide.  I look up into the darkness recognizing the Great Bear and Little Bear with the North Star shining brightly. But I hear my name again and my attention is drawn back to the surf. I understand how sailors are called to the ocean by these irresistible, unremitting, whispers.   As I edge closer and closer to the line drawn in the sand that the tide does not venture past in the darkness I notice a pattern to it's charge toward me. Small waves that break and slide just a short distance toward me on the beach, enticing me to come closer to see what it leaves as it retreats back to its home in the ocean. Then a larger wave appearing suddenly in the blackness. Drawing the roiling white line in the darkness in an unexpected place along the beach.  Breaking hard, racing quickly towards me, reaching out on either side of me as if to grab me and drag me into the water, taking me to the beast that races through the darkness. This happens several times, coming close, but never touching me, and after each time the smaller tide returns to pull me further and further out into the sand, towards the ocean. The whispers of my name become a roar. Finally heart pounding with dread, a large wave charges my position on the beach, I turn inland, walking quickly away, feeling the tide grasp my heels as I leave. 

>.)

Here I go off to a foreign land on the other side of the world.  An armchair tour of Jaipur.  I have browsed 18,000 photographs of Jaipur.  In not one photograph did I find a cow.  It must be tough to get a Burger in Jaipur.