Surfer Bob's Excellent San Diego Redux
- August 2004. A little summary
of my week in the San Diego sun is in order. For brevity, I'll keep it
to the first 24 hours. Content certified at
least 95% true.
Turby the Turbosurfer was an incredible
host. I can't say enough about the guy. He picked me up at the airport
in his truck like a professional tour guide with a colorful "Surfer Bob"
sign taped on the side. Whisked me off to good seafood takeout, a quick
hit on a local surfshop, then off to the beach with BA.
Meager surf but good story with those guys
at a historic LJ reefbreak overlook. BA and Turby are a couple of seriously
cool senior statesmen of the local surf tribe, with impressive surf credentials,
lots of stoke, aloha and a peculiar kind gravitas addled by years of sun
and sea. BA entertained us with stories and local lore, then headed for
Blacks with a posse of a dozen 20-something hotties whose exploits are
photodocumented on his website.
Then we were off to LJS for Plan B: skin-diving
with the sharks and rays. We were looking to haunt Gleshna's dreams with
a "me and the leopard sharks" photo opportunity, but they were moving too
fast and the water was not clear enough. We bodysurfed a few little crumblers
(to make it 2 AS points apiece) over near
the sea caves, where Turby lost his key.
No hide-a-key to save us, so Turby sweet-talked
the girl behind the desk at the local beach club. She responded to his
potent animal magnetism and polite manners, giving us towels, water, chocolate,
her hone and a sweet smile. A ride home from a helpful neighbor, a speed
run back to the beach on Turby's motorcycle, a recovered truck, and we
were off to the next cool thing: night on the town in PB.
Excellent sushi and beverages at a local
PB venue, a showdown over who would pay (TK won) and then we were off to
the appropriately surferly RT's, dedicated to a longtime local lifeguard,
where the reggae rhythm was being ably served up by a rock steady 4 piece
outfit. Turby and I
were 2 and 3 standard deviations out on
the tail end of the club's age distribution, respectively. So naturally
we took control of the dance floor, blowing minds with our supreme confidence
and unabashed groovin' moves. Free your ass and the mind will follow. Do
it well and other minds will follow. Drunk blonde hotties and sober brunettes
all agreed that we had it goin' on. Their guys just looked on and wished
they had as much confidence and panache. We had a lot of fun
channeling the Supreme Dancing Fool and
left the local chicks crying for more. Quote of the evening, "It is SO
COOL that you do what you want and don't even care what anyone thinks of
you!" Gotta laugh. Youth is wasted on the young, but dance therapy reigns
eternal. Turby
and Surfer Bob have LEFT- THE- BUILDING!
We closed out the evening with Hawaiian-sized
dishes of ice cream and a late night surf flick on Turby's formidable entertainment
center, with 6 different kinds of cool music instead of the actual sound
track. Turby's got commendable taste in music. I think Los Straightjackets
were among the most rocking. It's got to be tough to play ripping speed
surf guitar lines with a Mexican wrestlers's mask on.
Next day I was treated to a great in-house
breakfast and coffee as I rocked out on Turby's Stratocaster. My family
hit town and he's totally gentlemanly to my wife and kid. And the dude's
a world class designer! His place is full of post modern furniture he built
himself from various salvaged industrial materials. He jetted off to his
swing shift job and I headed off to my next destination.
Thanks, Turby! You are the ultimate surf
host. Sorry about the flatness, but that's August for you. I'll come back
in the winter, as a surfer should. If you see the guy with the dozen Skip
Frye's, tell
him I'm in the market, vouch for my good
character and see if you can shake one loose.
Over and out,
Surfer Bob
Surfer Bob's Great San Diego Redux
- June 2007. Had
a great week in San Diego. Long days of technical sessions and
conferencing, eves of parties, mornings of dawn patrols and scoring AS
points. Surf was kind of small, but that's June in southern CA. It's
fun to be back in my old neighborhood.
Monday morning- Surfed by the p*** in OB. Waist to shoulder high south
pushing through. Longer lefts, fatter rights. Water nearly too warm for
a fullsuit, but I didn't quite want to trunk it. Lots of backside runs
into foamy walls.
Wednesday morning- dawn patrol at The Arena. Surf quite small.
Made it down there a half hour late due to two nights of late
conference parties. BA had already come and gone, but Tweed was still
there, with his little dog Toto (not actually its name, but it paints
the right picture). Good to meet you, senor! Shot the breeze in the
parking lot and met some of the locals, eventually concluded the
filling in tide was not going to compensate for a basic lack of swell.
Headed for
conference, with brief but satisfying marvelous coffee and almond croissant interlude.
Friday morning- dawn patrol at OB. Harder and harder to get up at dawn
after days of not to bed until the wee hours. Found OBsurfer. Good to
meet you senor! Shot the breeze, met some of the locals, waited for the
early onshore breeze wind to swing offshore, then paddled out with
Kneedforspeed for a fun little windswell surf. My best wave was a
speedy little chest high right with enough oomph to get my quadfin into
3rd gear. OB has been photodocumenting the scene at his beach for 40+
years and he knows absolutely everybody, who's hot, who's not, who's
got the right attitude, who's good but plateau-ing, who's still moving
up the ladder. Guy is a serious cultural resource, who spins many great
tales.
Saturday midday - snorkeling at Marine Room with the family. Surf
bigger than last time I was here, water sub-optimally murky, Leopard
sharks generally scarce. LJS is quite a scene on the first sunny
weekend of summer! Then time to scoodaddle to dance to a rockin' zydeco
band at Bird Park.
Played phone tag with BA, but didn't work quite hard enough to catch up
with the King of L* J****. It is a pleasant problem to have too many
friends to see 'em all in one week! I'll try a little harder next time,
senor!
And then there was Yooper. Actually, I should say, and then there wasn't Yooper. Despite her cheery invitation of earlier this spring, and promise to never stand us up again. Yoops was quite scarce this week.
OK, I think that makes 3 more points for me, Rod.
And last but not least, the food content: new discoveries: Mama's
Lebanese in North Park! Italian tapas place at 30th & University.
Buca de beppo in Old Town is the most seriously Italian place I've been
in years. old friends: Jasmine's. The best dim sum in town has
relocated to a larger, nicer place on Claremont Mesa Blvd. And then
there's the venerable Pizza Port, with 2 dozen different locally made
microbrews and pizza still great after all these years. And the creme
brule at the Crest Cafe hasn't let me down once in 20 years.
AwooOOOO!!!
Surfer Bob
|