Mat Meet? There Was No Mat Meet Yesterday!

The Mat Signal

Prana came up with it. I've now decided it's time to light up the sky with it. If you ride a mat, you know what this means. If not, this post is not meant for your eyes and will self-destruct in 60 seconds.

Pig Roast

Mike Black at Surf a Pig brought the tribe together at San O on Saturday. There were no invitations or specific directions relating to time and specific place. You just got there when you got there. Then you looked for . . . pigs.

It wasn't hard to find our group. Pigs were everywhere. I brought two. I left the Cooperfish Flexpig on the car since there were already a bunch of them leaning up against the palapa. Of course, I had to have the loudest pig in the bunch. You can see my board from a mile away. I wanted to bring three pigs, but decided to leave one at home since I had to coordinate bringing the spouse, the child, the dog and food for all of us (which isn't easy since we don't eat the same things). As it turns out, our little day trip went off without a hitch. We enjoyed ourselves and the other folks at the pig roast. The highlights of my day were bookending my surf session with mat sessions, talking to Jim Phillips (who told me the winner of the very first U.S. professional surf contest was a black guy named Billy Johnson), having Gene Cooper paddle up to me while I was on my mat and ask if I wanted to trade surf craft and being able to share the day with another mat rider. By the time we got back to L.A., we were all tired, but happy to have spent a great day at San O with the tribe.

Art in the Streets

This exhibition is at the Geffen Contemporary, which is a part of the Museum of Contemporary Art. I saw it yesterday. It's so good that I was hoping Soul Brother #2's swim teacher would cancel today's lesson, thereby allowing me to take him to see it. Alas, he ended up swimming. I will be taking him to see this next week. I may go see this exhibition a couple of times before it leaves. I loved everything about it. The fact that it had some surf-themed art was simply icing on the cake. If you live in or near L.A., make a point to go see this!

48

Two score and eight years ago, I meandered into this world. And guess what? I'm still here!

That is all.

When Pigs Fly!

Remind me of this photo the next time you hear me use that expression when talking about something that will never happen.

These Are My Kings of Comedy

These two always made me laugh out loud. I remember listening to "Earache My Eye" on KMET in the mornings as I got ready for school. I loved Cheech & Chong. (I loved KMET too!) For some reason, this song popped into my head of late. Soul Brother #2 and I just watched the video three times, both of us laughing happily. On the third go-round, I stopped the video to explain the reference to actors wearing brown contacts to appear Latino. I still remember the uproar from the Latino community when Robby Benson was cast as the lead in a movie about Chicano gangs.

Cheech & Chong were one of the few things I enjoyed about growing up in the 70's. Okay, I will admit I also loved Vans and OP shorts. And KMET. And KDAY. And playing AYSO soccer. And G&S Fibreflex skateboards. Still, Cheech & Chong, in my mind, were one of the best things about the 70's. This video will show you why that is.

Dry-Docked and Making the Rounds

I headed down to San Diego yesterday to pick up my new Salted pig. I think I love San Diego. It's hard to know for sure since I'm never down there for long. Guess what I did the last time I visited San Diego? Drove down to meet Alan to pick up a board and then immediately drove back to L.A. I've got to flip that script and actually hang out down there.

The board is now sitting in the living room in a board bag that belongs to Jim Phillips. Gene Cooper loaned it to me when I got my Flexpig. My intention was to return it to Phillips while I was down in San Diego. But when we realized my Salted pig wouldn't fit in the bag I'd brought, I ended up taking the new pig back up to L.A. in Phillips' bag. And it's not like this is some beautiful bag that's made of steel. It's ripped, dirty, thinning and basically being held together by a few wisps of material. For whatever reason, that bag seems to want to live at my house for the time being. And I'm okay with that. Still, I have every intention of making sure Jim Phillips gets his bag back.

While I was in San Diego, I traded texts with my friend Andrea. I'd already sent a message to Cher. Unfortunately, there was no way I could actually try to see people. Although we'd arranged for grandma to pick up the kid at school, we still had to rush back to L.A. in order to beat the horrendous traffic that brings the freeways to a stop after a certain hour.

I did, however, make time for one stop. J.P. and I have known one another through our blogs for years. I'd been down to Moonlight on one occasion—to pick up a board, yes—and he wasn't there. I was intent on finally meeting him and seeing the surf shop. When I walked in, I was looking right at him! J.P. is cool! You need to shop at Surfy Surfy today, tomorrow and forever!

There will be no surfing for me until next week. I've once again gone under the needle. I spent part of Sunday getting some art added to the tattoo I got in November. Does it hurt more if it's done on a spot that's all muscle? I don't ever remember tattoos hurting this much. As far as I'm concerned, no more ink. Although I endured the pain and am happy with what I got, I really have better things to do than to sit around being tortured with a needle. Of course, there's not anything else I want in terms of a tattoo. So maybe I am really done.

My Porcine Beauty

"All resin panels and pinlines, custom built fin.
Dimensions: 9' X 21 7/8" X 16 3/4" X 15 3/4" X 3 1/8"
Handshape, glass, colorwork, fin, sand and polish by me. Special thanks to Nick Mirandon for the advice and look over the shoulder!"

Thank you for the kick ass board, Alan/Salted Surfcraft!

No, I didn't take the pictures. Our grass doesn't look like that and it never will. Now, if you ever see a picture of a board on half dead grass, that will be your clue that I was the photographer.

The Ramp Gets Resurfaced with the Scent of Bacon in the Air

I cannot believe I've finally gotten a serious surface on my ramp. And don't think it was easy. First, I had to find someone who had the expertise to work with Ramp Armor or Skatelite. Then, I had to figure out which of the two guys would (1) do the best job, (2) actually follow through with the job and (3) not piss me off. I finally went with Jim Bell and Aura Skateboarding Company. I just got a sense that he had it together more than the other guy. I also knew he'd built a bunch of ramps and bowls throughout Southern California. I won't even go into the details about the delays because, frankly, they weren't as bad as I thought they were. In my mind, I'd given him a deposit and it took almost a year and a half for that stupid Ramp Armor to come in and for him to finally put it on the ramp. Actually, we were delayed about a month. And when you're working with a contractor of any sort, that's not that bad in the grand scheme of things. The long and short of it is that Jim did what he said he was going to do. He and Shawn, his helper, did an excellent job. They're also nice guys. And I now have a faster, quieter ramp to skate over the summer (as well as throughout next week when I will be dry-docked because of some new ink).

Oink!

Oink!

There's a new pig on the way. It's the one I've been waiting for, the one I specially ordered, the one my shaper friend has turned into a labor of blood, sweat and tears. We've flipped the script a bit on this one. No D fin. I have two such honkers in my quiver. I don't need one more. This fin will be glassed on nevertheless. We talked of doing the pickup on Sunday. But I'm going to get inked in the morning and he's got to be somewhere in the afternoon. So, I will have to figure out another day when I can head south for my porcine beauty.

In other news, I saw Prince in concert last Sunday. I went with the "I've got nothing better to do" attitude that is typical of me when I agree to express an interest in something in which I have no interest. The joke was on me though. That concert was fantastic!! That tiny little man can bring it. I do not find him attractive. I don't love his voice. I don't particularly like his music. But there I was, throwing my hands in the air, clapping, dancing and having a wonderful time. Had that not been his last night in L.A., I would have gone back to see him again even though I'm still not a fan. Live music performed well is a beautiful thing. Remember I said that!