Time of Far and Few

The post weeks-of-surf syndrome had been wearing hard, but there has been some respite the last couple of days. On one of the in-between-days, when a one wave set about waist high rolled in every 30 minutes, I tried to talk the boyz into drawing straws to see who would get to ride the lone set wave. As the discussion progressed, I slipped from the group and bolted down to Tiburones in hopes of catching a wave off-guard. It took no time for the combined weight of the boyz to dampen any remaining waves. Another day, I found myself at Tiburones with one of the bros doing the brotation on ever-so-small south lines. After a while, I was by myself. It didn't take long for someone else to fill the void - but this dude I know not - apparently he knew me. Waiting at the bowl together, a wave approached, and I suggested he go - LB and all - brotation in effect. He said he was too far out and couldn't catch the wave. I thought, "dude - LB and a little elbow grease and you've got a fun nose-rider." Oh well. Another wave approached and I turned to go - without asking. I got a couple pumps down the line when my new friend dropped in on me, the wave sectioned-off, and I bailed. When my new friend got back outside, I ask if he wouldn't like to sit at the bowl and engage in the brotation that had been happening before he entered the scene. No. Blood veins popping I asked with a raised voice, "why the f--K not? Either you sit at the bowl and rotate or, if you sit on the shoulder, don't drop in!" His response just about did it - "I've seen you drop in on people." "WHAT! OF F--KING course I have - I surf you F--KING moron." Needless to say, I didn't get through to my new friend - we parted - "F--K YOU - MAGGOT" I went in shortly thereafter. As the lack of surf droned on, talk turned to the mysto internet wave forecast. Waves were scheduled to come Thursday AM - nothing. On the cliff, the talk ranged from - "I heard it was macking on the South Shore, should be here any time" to "There's a contest this weekend, so figure". Friday afternoon, Butterscotch, George, Hot Dog, myself - and others sat at Tiburones and caught a few - very few. You know, we got wet. Over the weekend, I saw Pat and Butterscotch dominating the masses and evading near miss after near miss - ten over too. So the update - The last couple of days, I got some south swell waves at La Bol Segunda with Pat, Greg, Rick, Hot Dog, Fly Trap, and all the other late summer assholes in the way. Schools just about in and fall is approaching - a shot of tonic.

Surfers measure the seasons by observation. The position of the sun, moon, and constellations. Shadows of landmarks, changes in the natural surroundings, swell direction, tides, and temperature. My house faces south with the North Star at its back. Like some kind of Stonehenge, I watch as the sun's arc moves closer and closer to a position even with the front edge of the house - fall. It's around the corner, and so is the expectation of diminished crowds, strong west swells, late souths, and long-period norths. It has been a decent summer, but it's hard not to look forward.

One look at the beltway - Apparently the FEDCORP sued one of its contractors - big contractor - for fraud. You know, billing projects that do not exist, overcharges, lying, cheating, stealing. Any way, the court found that the CORPcontractor was guilty, but had to throw the suit out of court because the CORPcontractor's contract was with the provisional government of Iraq (remember - the CORPGOV we set up - L. Paul Bremmer subleased) not the US. In the end, we are talking about our tax dollars being ripped off - sweet. These guys know how to run a shell game. Art by KB. See ya in the soup.  ¶ 9:13 PM