FOUND!

     Found this "blank" in the trash around the corner from my house this morning. It appears that it was a long/fun board that someone stripped and attempted to cut down into a short board, then realized that they were off their rocker (pun semi-intended) and threw it out. It's about 5'6" x 19 1/2 x 3, and that's 3" almost all the way through.

     The problems with the blank are the 19 1/2" wide point is about 1 1/2 feet forward of center; the tail gets pretty narrow, and it looks like someone tried to shape the nose with a hatchet. Also, there's the finbox and some glass on the tail, as seen below.

     That glass is easily ground off. So really, if board was a bit wider, it would be a usable blank. But, what to do?

     As if by magic, an idea emerges! My plan is to eventually glue those rail cut offs onto the board, figure out a template, and make something within the restrictions presented by the situation. I haven't worked on anything yet, but I have ideas in my mind of either a mini-simmons type board or maybe a small egg-type. We'll see. That won't be for a while yet, as I've got some more important boards to make.
     Waves coming this weekend, and if the forecast stays like it is, it could be glorious. Let's hope. For now, everyone take care in this heat. I know I almost died this morning running in 94-degree-in-the-shade heat. Good practice for the Dog Day Race, which is coming up. Of course, when you get blisters on your feet because the ground is too hot, something's not quite right there.

[Spoken:]
Ooh man, dig that crazy chick.

Who wears short shorts
We wear short shorts
They're such short shorts
We like short shorts
Who wears short shorts
We wear short shorts.

[Repeat 2x]

     Those are the lyrics in their entirety to hit by New Jersey's own The Royal Teens. Not much of a deep message here, just digging those short shorts with some really fun summertime sax solos. But, really, if we were to look a little further, we might be find that there's more going on here than it  initially appears. 

     The song, a #3 hit, was released in 1958, which was a few years before short shorts, or hotpants, really took off in London, thanks to fashion designer Mary Quant. So, in 1958, these "crazy chicks" were a little ahead of their time, and instead of being fearful of ridicule, they are bold and courageous in their ultra-cropped clothing. "Who wears short shorts?" asks the male, who in the post-war America that forms the backdrop to this song was the dominant member of society, the one who asked the questions, and who got answers. So, at seeing this revolutionary new garment, he demands answers. He wants to know who is behind this symbol of social upheaval that could be equated to the freedom-loving flappers, with their jazz and their bobbed hair and their short skirts (he shudders to think that this could be happening again, but no, it couldn't, not in his America). So, who's responsible for this outrage. And the women of this song, instead of being ashamed, instead of hiding, declare, in a resounding chorus, "We wear short shorts!" 

     Then, taken aback, the man, hoping to win with reason, says "But, they're such short shorts." And the women know that that is the reason, that they are such short shorts, and that they "like short shorts." So, in the final couplet, the man has changed his tone, looking out to the world, asking the question just so the women once again can answer and let the world know that they, in fact, do wear short shorts.

     Or it could just be a pretty fun song with some good sax solos. 

     Next time, how The Coasters (who have so many hits that you'd recognize that they are like their generation's Tommy James and the Shondells), with their 1959 single "Charlie Brown," foreshadowed the student protests and complete overhaul of the Universities in the United States and around the world in the coming decade. The lines "Walks in the classroom, cool and slow /  Who calls the English teacher Daddy-O," clearly shows this Charlie Brown to be a passive protester, and unlike those hotheaded Frenchman of 1968 he keeps his cool, all the while causing just as much damage as a Molotov cocktail. He greets his English teacher, who is a staunch believer in proper grammar and rock-solid traditions of language that can not be shaken by some know-nothing student, he greets this teacher with a new term, his term, one of cool disrespect that the English teacher would have never dreamed of addressing his mentors by. A term that would not have even appeared in his professor's OED, that's for sure. But, in fact, it's in there now, first cited use 1949, and Charlie Brown is letting him know that this colloquial slang term is here to stay.

Oh Charlie Brown, he's a clown, that Charlie Brown.

                                                I'm not even going to reread all that nonsense.

It's a dilly!

     I don't know if any of you frequently buy the large dill pickles from barrels that they sell at delicatessen, but it's something that I do every so often, and wish I did more. Those pickles are delicious, but what I like aside from the pickle is the bag that accompanies the pickle. They are made of wax paper, and are often really funny/weird. Example:

     See what I mean? But this got me thinking this: the phrase "it's a pickle" is often used to say "this is a mystery" or "this is a tough situation," but maybe it became "it's a pickle" because it was initially "it's a dilly" and through the evolution of language it logically just became "it's a pickle," a dill being a kind of pickle. So, that was one theory, which after some quick OED research, proved to be wrong (the closest thing I found under "dill" was in the verb form: to conceal, hide, keep secret. Unfortunately, the most recent use of this is from circa AD 1300, so I ruled it out). So my other theory is correct, that some clever and comical dill pickle marketing firm chose to replace "pickle" in the common phrase with "dilly," most likely because it still has the same amount of syllables as "pickle," so as not to throw off the tongue with awkward changes, and also because the word "dilly" is kind of funny, especially combined with the visuals of a Sherlock Holmes-like detective standing on a large dill pickle peering through his magnifying glass. Actually, the real reason they probably chose "dilly," aside from the humor, is that, while describing the pickle inside, "dilly" also means: A delightful, remarkable, or excellent person or thing. Which the pickle inside surely was.

    

Heavy Friends

 

     So, there have been some amazing waves the past couple days down at WJ. Yesterday we were privy to some chest to head-high and well beyond waves complete with stinging sleet-like back spray projected by the 30 mph + offshore winds that created some of the most sickly devastating hollow lefts we've seen in a while down there. The word "awesome" has a few different definitions (it is probably important to note here that whenever the definition of a word is given, it is without exception the definition given by the Oxford English Dictionary), and more than one can be used to describe the waves yesterday. Sure, 3.a: in weakened sense: overwhelming, staggering; remarkable, prodigious. colloq. (orig. and chiefly U.S.), describes our the waves, but so does 2: Inspiring awe; appalling, dreadful, weird (except for maybe the "weird" part, but even that...). These waves were heavy. It was an intense privilege to be able to see these waves, let alone ride them. 

     Ryan, still on the sidelines (he's just come off) from a debilitating injury in Puerto Rico, was able to get some photos of us our there. None of these do the waves justice: they are just stills of roaring energy. But still, some cool shots. 

      I believe these are of myself. I'm really just going off of stance and what Ryan told me.

      Can't tell who these one is, but the waves are pretty nice.

      A sandpiper. But yeah, so yesterday was very, very nice. Fortunately, the swell stuck around for today, and I was able to get out this morning before work. At first it was just myself and this seal that kept on watching me, wondering what I was probably. Then one other guy came out. The waves: waist to chest, glassy lefts, and lining up nice. After I caught a bunch and the tide filled in a lot, it was time to go to work, and I waited for a wave. Then one came: a head high left that I was in the perfect spot for, between WJ and the rockpile, and as the only other guy out cheered on I got it and screamed down the line on SF 001, barrel overhead and chasing hard, holding high lines on the twin keels, the wave walling up in front of me and me barely able to make it to the end, but I did, way down the beach. It was without a doubt one of my favorite waves in the past few months, maybe this whole winter season. That kind of ride is why I surf.

                                                                                                                                                 Blue cheer.

    Now, hopefully there will be some swell left for tomorrow morning. 

     On another note: my friend Pat has started up two new interesting blogs: one, called Casualties of the Loudness War, is a music blog, and Pat definitely knows a thing or two or a million about music, so check it out. The other, called Step 1: Make Use of Your Time, has a pretty unique concept and seems like it will be really interesting to follow. Check that out also.