We Won't Get Fooled Again
Let's rewind to last summer and surf contest at Venice. That's an experience I don't want to repeat . . . ever. So, in preparation for the Black Surfing Association contest on Sunday, I've been shopping. Let me just say this: Target is a wonderful place. I used to look down my nose at Target, thinking (for some stupid reason) that the place was beneath me. Now that I'm a mom, I know the joy that is Target. The place rocks. And they pay their people a normal wage. (Yes, that was my way of saying shame on you for shopping at Wal-Mart.) Soul Brother #1 and I went to Target to find a present for one of Soul Brother #2's compadres. Yeah, we found a present. I also found a nice, easy-to-use sunshade and some portable camping chairs. That wasn't enough. I still needed more for Sunday's outing. I looked at soft-sided coolers at Target but couldn't find one I liked. Then I looked at some at one of the stores owned by my employer, but I was too cheap to spend the money (even with my discount). I finally sent my surfing buddy—the guy in the cubicle across from mine—to tell the camping equipment buyer that I wanted the cooler that sat in our workspace for at least a week. My surfing buddy came back with not one but two coolers. (I gave one of them away; I'm not greedy.) All I need now is a couple of those plastic things you use to keep stuff cold while in the cooler and some foot. Then we're set. I'm not all that concerned about the contest per se. I'm going to support my club. My main concern is that our long day at the beach be as enjoyable as possible. Thanks to Target and the buyers at my job, it will be.
I'm going out tomorrow for a bit. I want to catch the swell. It took some work to line up a babysitter, but I made it happen. Once again, I'll be paying cold, hard cash for this so the swell better be there.