International Surfing Day

21 06 2010

International Surfing Day came and went like a dream that is forgotten after a second cup of coffee. The day proceeding the first day of summer was not exactly memorable, although the water was warm. Warm like a lightly toasted hot dog bun on Independence Day. Or a sweaty pair of September thighs. The June gloom hung around like a hobo smoking a hand-rolled cigarette, waiting for a train going Anywhere But Here.

Ah, International Surfing Day. Don’t get me wrong. The DVS Internet Beach Challenge is a fantastic idea. Who doesn’t want to make a video of themselves riding “the most unique piece of trash or object on a wave?” Apparently participants must send in a video of themselves riding the most unique object on a wave for prizes. Splendid.

I was up unusually early. A small, west northwest wind swell struggled too make it across the sandbar. High tide. The kind of day made for surfboards with absurd names like the Fartknocker or the Dumpster Diver. I borrowed a longboard from a friend. I have always held the firm belief that any “shortboarder” that does not ride a longboard a few times a year is doing an injustice to himself. Today I did my part.

It was also Father’s Day. Perhaps it was no cosmic coincidence International Surfing Day fell on Father’s Day. My father introduced me to the ocean and surfing at a young age. Before I could even walk. I will always be grateful for it. Like the saying goes, “Give a man a fish; you have fed him for today. Teach a man to fish; and you have fed him for a lifetime.”