Fun with Walls

Before I found surfing, I often spent the evening sitting around the house eating cheese and watching American Idol. During the second season, I saw every show as Clay and Ruben battled it out for the title. Feeling pretty worthless, dissatisfied, and just bummed out that I lost an hour of my life watching t.v., at a seemingly uncreative moment, I experienced a rogue wave of creative genius.

What you are about to watch may forever change the way you look at walls.

Understand this, You can box a surfer up in a studio apartment with his girlfriend and American Idol - crush his spirit, dull his senses, and sedate his mind - but you'll never kill his inner stoke!

I hope you are as stoked about Fun with Walls as Melissa Cicci. Enjoy!

The Surfing Juror

For the past seven days, I served as a juror in a civil trial held at the United States District Court in Philadelphia - federal jury duty, a big time affair. It wasn't an eternal damnation, in fact I thought it was a lot like surfing.

The case involved age discrimination, a violation of the plaintiffs' civil rights. It had the promise of a decent swell and I was excited to be a part of something big. It was similar to the feeling I get when a tropical storm runs up the east coast. You know there will be waves, big waves. But you never know if they'll be clean or a mushy mess, a corduroy paradise of perfect sets or a washtub of inconsistency. It has been my experience in OCNJ that it is often a mix. With patience, you can sit through the mush to find a great set, catch a five-foot A-frame peeler and enjoy a nice ride. This case was the mashed washtub. It offered a few precious moments of exhilaration in short sets of the truth.

The start of the Trial - The jury selection process began with the voir dire and the first question was, “Is it a hardship for you to serve on a trial that may last one to two weeks.” All fifty or so potential jurors raised their hands and then the lawyers began to call us up one by one to explain why. It was like deciding to go surfing early in the morning on a cold rainy Monday in November, a harsh sea breeze blistering your face. You know you want to get in there, but you're beginning to second-guess yourself. Am I really this committed? Is this worth it? As a History and Constitutional Law teacher, I had been looking forward to my jury duty, but a two-week commitment? I felt it was my civic responsibility to at least answer the questions honestly and once I was selected, after the initial shock like ice coldwater filling my wet suit there was no time to for regret. The opening statements started right away. I had to paddle through waves of anxiety, get past the breakers of fear, and attain a level of comfort that comes from familiarity and knowing your surroundings whether it is the courtroom, the shoreline, the juror's box, or the beach break.

The Documents - The corporation provided Plaintiff's attorneys with thousands of pages of documents - an ocean of information. Both sides presented a lot of exhibits throughout the trial. As a juror I had to be patient. It was pretty obvious that many of the documents served as distractions to create a fog and mask the truth. As in surfing, I had to constantly scan the horizon looking for facts that rose out of the sea of information like small distant peaks of truth.

Arguments - Both teams of attorneys presented arguments that came in waves. The majority of the time they spent eliciting information from witnesses and documents, building up to the arguments. Technical jargon, corporate management-speak, economic and statistical data inundated the jury pounding us like fast hard breakers on a steep shore incline. Waves crashing in ankle deep waters too shallow, too dangerous to ride. It was painful at times. I had to sit on the outside and listen to the shoreline thunder but remain focused on the horizon. In the witnesses’ testimony, there was a lot of rambling, avoidance, the tops of waves blown off by the blowhards who continue to work for the corporation – the yes men and yes women. At times they seemed big and powerful and then they’d open their mouths and the potential for truth flubbed out. Yet, when the truth came it was unmistakable. I’d perk up, my heart beat a little faster, a little harder. My eyes grew wide and ears strained. I fervently jotted down statements in pursuit of the truth – paddling, stroking, stalking the big wave.

Truth - The truth is like a far off peak on the horizon. At first glance, you wonder if it is really there. Then it builds, begins to take shape, its cadence is clear. In its approach to the shore it suddenly rises up out of the ocean before you, unmistakable. A surfer has only a few moments to turn his board, strike out ahead of the rolling mountain of water, build enough momentum and catch a glorious ride on a perfect, peeling tube. It is the same for a juror. Hours of testimony, numerous documents, statements, depositions, exhibits, direction examinations, cross examinations, and then re-directs inundate the juror with information like a rough sea, strong winds, powerful currents, riptides pulling you this way and that. But when the truth appears, it is beautiful, easily recognizable, and glorious in its power.

Deliberation – At the conclusion of the trial, the judge instructs the jury on the law and the jurors decide the case on the facts. It is the juror’s duty to determine what is truthful. The deliberation for this surfing juror was a fantastic ride. I experienced a euphoric rush as we the jury unanimously agreed on the facts. The truth had risen up out of the sloppy conditions in the courtroom offering us a great moment. It was clear and beautiful like a perfect wave. Different jurors shared their experiences from the trial describing moments when they found the truth. At times it felt like a party wave – there were definite facts we all agreed on, moments we all shared. As we analyzed the testimony, some jurors' voices grew loud, a few expletives were tossed about, it was clear we were having a bitchin’ time.

As I left the courthouse, I felt a little disappointed. Our quest for the truth, like the surfer’s quest for a perfect wave had been fruitful but it was also fleeting. I have a renewed appreciation for our judicial system, its adversarial nature, and the ability of a group of 8 citizens from different areas of Pennsylvania to recognize the truth in a cloudy ocean of arguments. This case is over, like each unique wave that crashes on the shore its moment in time has ended. I walked away from the experience with the same feeling I have every time I walk away from the beach after a great surf session – grateful for the opportunity to be a part of something much bigger than myself, hopeful that I will have the chance to do it again, and sorrowful knowing the moment is gone. Like the inevitable end of summer - always bittersweet.

Writing in a Surf of Consciousness

It was all done in the spirit of irony - run a marathon sponsored by a major corporate chain that sells donuts.

On Sunday morning, I anxiously awoke with the thought that today I would set out to do something amazing. For the past few months I had trained - running every other day for three to five miles, on Saturday or Sunday putting in ten to twelve. After a cold autmnal rain, the morning broke with unseasonably warm temperatures. Seeking nourishment before the ordeal, I forced down a bagel and protein bar. My running compatriots soon descended the stairs to join me in preparation for our long morning jog. Spirits were high - All the single ladies sang supportive notes and we were off. As we drove along route 28 to Falmouth, the sight of a broken old, bewildered, beaten dog languishing by the side of the road sent an ominous hush among us. Christian slayed the evil augury by declaring, "I'm going to ride that dog across the finish line!" Humor shattered the looking glass of fear that stared us all back in the face. We laughed at our self doubt. We were out to enjoy a leisurely jaunt across the bucolic scenery of Cape Cod - swatches of brillant orange, yellow, and red foliage. Cheers from the ocean waves crashing on the brown flaked beaches. Glorious sights one can't even strain to see through the urban decay of New York or Philadelphia. An older white woman, dressed in sophisticated garb serenaded the flock of fleet footed fools as the cannon roared to signal the start of the 32nd Annual Dunkin' Donuts Cape Cod Marathon.

I ran - at a jogging pace - 26.2 miles. It was difficult. There were a lot of hills. It was beautiful. A warm sun shone brightly in the New England sky highlighting all the best that nature and the Cape had to offer. I had fun - despite the lack of coffee and donuts along the course.

Thank you Steven, Christian, and Ana!

The drive home from Mashpee to Narberth was much more painful - 8 hours of stop and go traffic in a steady drizzle. We made it.

Thank you Julie!

Ocean City makes a big Splash in Surfer Magazine

After our return from Rincon, PR, Julie and I began to dream the surfer's dream of living in a coastal surf community year round. Although it seemed as if it was something we could only dream about - at least we could crash at her parents condo in Ocean City, New Jersey on the weekend. If we truly want to surf year 'round, we only need to learn how to grin and bear the cold of Northeast winters. No OCNJ is not Rincon, in April and May the water is only about 50 degrees, but there's definitely potential.

After purchasing some booties, Julie and I had a wonderful Spring weekend in the water this past April. We left Ocean City with smiles so big you could surf them! We love Ocean City, even if it isn't a surf mecca like Santa Cruz, Rincon, or Waikiki.

Just when we were trying to convince ourselves that OCNJ had surfing relevance - the July issue of Surfer Magazine arrived with its article titled Ten Best Surf Towns In America. Lo and Behold! Ocean City, New Jersey was number 10!

The article states: Known as “America’s Greatest Family Resort,” Ocean City, New Jersey, boasts more surf accolades than any northeastern surf establishment. Home to Dean Randazzo, New Jersey’s only World Tour Competitor, and a fresh crop of committed and aspiring WQS surfers, Ocean City takes its surfing seriously. The local high school has won eight consecutive state surfing championships, and despite an unfriendly climate, the locale’s consistency and proximity to ledgier surf put it on the U.S. surf map.

Needless to say, Julie and I have started brainstorming ways to spend more time in OCNJ. ANd I'm sure there will be a lot more people in the water now too :)

You can click on the title of this post and it will take you to the surfer magazine article: http://surfermag.com/features/onlineexclusives/ten_best_surf_towns_in_america/

Drying Out in the Pool?

I haven't gone surfing in what feels like an eternity - 2 weeks. It doesn't look promising that I'll get back in the water this weekend either. Despite feeling bummed out, I've avoided the doldrums of landlubber life by taking an American Red Cross Lifeguard Training class.

In early October 2008, I went out for some fun in the waves alone. There wasn't much surf, maybe ankle high 2 footers. It was enough to catch a quick thrill and flash a smile. The waves were breaking in waist deep water, so I simply stood by my board and hopped on the little rollers as they began to crash. Despite their diminutive status, one wave had the power to violently toss me right of the board as I got caught sideways in its face. I quickly stood up and then BAM! It felt like someone hit me on the side of my head with a two by four. I immediately saw stars and felt my head tingling, my vision was blurry, and I knew that I might pass out any moment. I turned and walked to the shore - chanting "don't pass out, get to the shore, get to the shore." Thank God it was such a gentle day and I was already close to shore. I made it and sat down - head still tingling from the blow with a lump beginning to form above my right ear. I sat down, all alone - next to my board and tried to concentrate on not passing out - "don't fall asleep, stay awake, you are probably experiencing a concusion - don't pass out."

Eventually, my wife came to the beach and my senses returned. I never went to the doctor and my head ached a little but all in all I felt pretty good. This experience definitely scared me. I could easily have drowned. Surfing alone. Hit in the head. Face to face with my mortality. Afterwards, I told myself that if I were to continue to love surfing - I needed training in lifesaving skills.

Now I find myself in a class of twenty students, mostly between the ages of 16 - 19, every evening this week from 6 - 10 PM learning how to be a lifeguard. Sometimes I hate it - especially when we sit in a circle and read from the book. But other times - when we are in the water practicing life saving rescues - I feel like it is an awesome experience. Last night I dreamt that I tried to save someone's life who was choking. I calmly positioned the woman and began to administer the Heimlich maneuver. It didn't work - and I woke up before she died. But it felt really good to at least be able to do something.

My favorite times surfing are often when there are no lifeguards, no crowds, no one else around. I love the solitary, individual challenge of surfing. By sacrificing a little ego to be the old kooky guy in the lifeguard class, I may have found a new passion. Thanks Eddie!

In Search of a Good Book This Summer?

In Search of Captain Zero, is one of the best books I've read lately.  Over the weekend, I was lucky to share the company of a fellow surfing enthusiast and the conversation inevitably turned to Allan Weisbecker's book.

Weisbecker recounts the story of his search to find an old best friend, whom he hasn't seen in five years.  The only information he has of his friend's whereabouts is a two year old post card that says, "I decided to go Down South."

Thus begins Weisbecker's journey from Long Island to Costa Rica.  Along the way he shares anecdotes from his drug smuggling years that are both hilarious and disturbing.

If you are looking for a fun summer read at the beach, then you should pick up a copy and enjoy Allan's search for the perfect wave, a lost friend, and the meaning of life.

Anticipating Summer

It's almost Memorial Day - the unofficial beginning of summer at the Jersey Shore - and I am eager to spend as much time in the water as possible. Lately, I've been fighting a cold or allergies, whatever it is I definitely haven't been myself. Soon, very soon I'll revive and reclaim fitness, well being, and vitality. It'll be just like last year ... cue dream sequence.

Ah, last summer ....  I remember it so well. Enjoy this video of Julie and I surfing in the summer of '08.  Notice the cool green rash guard I wore, ala The Creep!  This summer I'll stick with Kooky Carl.

The Top Ten List

Last weekend, Julie and I headed down the shore to catch the lingering effects of a recent swell. I've come to judge the Surfline report with some skepticism - as a rating of fair to good was given the Rincon surf while Julie and I were in Puerto Rico. I thought the waves were huge that day. On many occasions, Surfline reports flat - poor conditions for the waves of OCNJ and upon arrival I find some really fun little waves to ride. Well, its pretty rare to find a Surfline report of fair to good for OCNJ and when I saw a positive rating for the Jersey Shore last week, I told Julie we had to get down there. We left Saturday morning at 10 AM and started out on the 1.5 hour drive from Narberth to 44th and West on the island. After cruising along to some morning tunes, Julie and I got to talking about surfing. She started to list the reasons whey she loves surfing and I told her to check out my last post - our lists were eerily similar. Then I told her about my favorited surfers - my top ten list. This is a list of the surfers who I think are the best.

10. Phil Edwards - He makes the list because his book You Should Have Been Here An Hour Ago was the first surfer's autobiography I ever read. As a young boy growing up in Oceanside, Edwards was part of the California surfing boom of the 1950s and later became a pioneer big wave surfer at Hawaii's Bonzai Pipline. Edwards is the epitome of Surfer Cool.

9. Rob Machado - I don't know too much about Rob, but in the film Step into Liquid Rob seems like a super cool guy hanging out with his buddy who broke his back while surfing.

8. Occy - Wild Austrailian needs to be on this list. North Shore cast member.

7. Laird Hamilton - Mind, Body, Spirit beefcake. North Shore cast member - that costume?

6. Shaun Tomson - South African tube rider, documentarian, super cool.

5. Kelly Slater - maybe the best?

4. George Freeth - Irish and Hawaiian, first white man to really popularize the sport.

3. Mark Richards - MR rocks!














2. Eddie Aikau - World's Greatest Waterman, not only a masterful big wave rider but an amazing life guard and a hero.

















1. Duke Kahanamoku - the father of modern surfing!


Sorry no women made the list -
Honorable Mention - Louise Southerden - Her book Surf's Up: The Girl's Guide to Surfing gave me the courage to get over myself and PLF!

Why do I do what I do? No, really why?

5.3.09

I’ve finished my final paper for the MA program at Temple. Julie will edit it for me. I’ll print it out and deliver it to Professor Nguyen on Tuesday. What confuses me is how I feel – there’s no sense of satisfaction. It’s an empty feeling – like I’ve lost something that defines who I am. For the past three years, I have been a graduate student. Now I’ve graduated – what’s next?

Ah, Germain Grisez was right. In his book, Beyond the New Morality, he argues that if you base your happiness on accomplishing goals – then you can never be happy, because happiness is something in the future, something you are always striving for. As soon as you reach your goal, you must set a new one. There is no time to relax. There is no moment of accomplishment, satisfaction, or happiness. How can I break this cycle?

Maybe I’ll choose a distraction – like surfing? Do I really love surfing? Why do I surf? Why do I teach? No, really why?

I like surfing for many reasons:
1. I like the way it makes me feel. Athletic, Powerful, Excited, Stoked.
2. I like the way I look in my surf gear – I rock that wetsuit!
3. I like surf culture – it offers an alternative to mainstream society that focuses on living in the moment, The Journey, and doing something you love.
4. I like the aesthetic beauty of surfing – I could watch videos of Mark Richards and Shaun Thomson all day.
5. I like that surfing is an activity that I can share with my wife – like tennis, only its not competitive (for me anyways).
6. I like how surfing makes me aware of the ocean, the beach, and the environment in general. I feel more in touch with Mother Nature and I care more about her.
7. I like the challenge of surfing – the physical challenge of trying to catch a wave, the mental challenge of finding good surf in a constantly changing system of energy, the emotional challenge of overcoming fear.
8. I like that surfing takes place in the water and at a beach. I can spend an entire day at the beach, exercising and having a ton of fun.
9. I like how difficult it is to surf. When I actually catch a wave and stand-up for the ride, I get a huge sense of accomplishment because it is no easy task. If it was really easy to surf, a lot more people would do it.
10. I like surfing because it makes me happy. Just thinking about surfing makes me smile.

It took me less than ten minutes to come up with ten reasons why I like surfing – that’s pretty good – I think it is safe to say, I definitely like surfing.

Droppin In Mainstream? SI's Kelly Slater Article

I just finished reading Gary Smith's article on Kelly Slater in this week's issue of Sports Illustrated titled Ready For the Next Wave. This photo captures the author's intent of trying to open the door into Slater's life, "the door that's there for all of us, the one too risky for many to open, behind which lies the question: Why do you what you do?"

It definitely got my heart pounding as Smith provides a psychoanalysis of Slater and why he surfs. Slater is the face of professional surfing. When I had no clue about the art of wave sliding and the joy it brings, I still knew Kelly Slater was the best. Smith does a good job of challenging the audience to examine their own lives as he delves into Slater's.

The article probes into the personal life of Slater to expose the forces that drive him to succeed. According to Smith, Slater grew up "as the child of alcoholism and divorce." This shaped his self-image, personality, and how he copes with the world. As the middle child, "Kelly was the mediator, the boy who yearned to be the bridge" in arguments between his mother, father, and siblings. As a skeptic, I initially found Smith's article too cliche - the superstar finds his strength by fighting to turn his troubled childhood into the fuel for his excellence. Great material for a magazine story, but maybe overly dramatic.

Yet, there is something about Slater. It could be that I've heard about him, but I can't recall ever really hearing from him. No interviews pop into mind and he's rarely quoted in the article. It reads from the perspective of the arm chair analyst providing details of the patient's life as the source of his anxiety, self-consciousness, and depression. Kelly comes across as this silent surfing giant struggling to overcome his own personal demons.

Slater's story rings true for me. The article left me feeling uncomfortable and a little upset. I've found myself at 33, trying to avoid the whys of my own life. Why am I a teacher? Why do I study History? Why am I here? David Byrne's lyrics - "This is not my beautiful house, this is not my beautiful wife, my God, how did I get here?" have much more meaning to me now than when I was a teenager. I can identify with Slater. What worked for me as a child: getting good grades, trying to forge my own place in a big family, ignoring the chaos, seeking to please authority figures - doesn't cut it today. Currently, I find myself teaching in a very chaotic environment where strength and attitude are rewarded while compassion and generosity are considered weaknesses. As a result, I suffer from a lot of anxiety, worry, and panic about my teaching, graduate school, and the future. Sometimes I can't enjoy the good times because they are always fleeting. I can understand how Slater could be a world champion surfer and still feel unsatisfied with life.

Smith's article definitely intrigued me. As a surfer, I liked seeing the exposure of the sport and its perennial king. Hints of the future - Surf Stadiums with the Perfect Wave Machines, and Olympic gold - also stoked my enthusiasm. Smith pulls the curtains back just enough on Slater's personal life to leave me wanting more. The next surfer biography I'll read is Slater's Pipe Dreams. Hopefully, it will allow me to open the door and walk into Slater's world.

You can check out the article at: http://vault.sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1155067/index.htm

Jersey Shore Surf!

August 25, 2009

First time in the water: Ocean City, NJ
44th street. In the break between 45th and 43rd streets.

Observations: Mostly sunny. Light cloud cover, high small cirrus clouds. Above average temperatures – 70s. The sun is directly overhead. Sunlight sparkles off the wave, like diamonds in the sea. Water temperature – cold, maybe the coldest water I’ve ever been in – feels like pins, prickling / stinging my feet and hands. Wetsuit works great, offered protection from hypothermia. The stoke of wave riding kept me warm – no time to think about being cold when you are scanning the peaks on the horizon for the next perfect wave to glide down.

As I returned to the waters of Ocean City, NJ – I also reverted back to my kooky-style of surfing. With a nice sandy bottom, no coral reef to worry about destroying, no sea urchins with their nasty needles to dance around, I could just stand next to my board and wait for the waves, hop on at the last minute, paddle one or two strokes, and then hold-on tight, rise into my cobra pose, climb up from my knees to my feet and viola! Stand, surfing, for a solid 3 seconds!

Sure, my first day in the water after Rincon, PR was a bit of a let down, but only for a few seconds. As soon as I caught my first wave and rose to my feet, I only thought, in that moment, fully focused, that this was awesome! Also, I was super jazzed to find nice little 1 footers to ride at the 44th street beach. This is my beach. This is where I surf and its nice to know that on any given day, I can get out in the water. I don’t care if it is flat. I don’t care if it is cold. I don’t care if it is crowded. I know I can get out there and have fun, every time.

There are no great tales of unforgettable rides to tell after this first day. I was excited on two separate occasions to be able to take one step forward on the board in my ultimate pursuit of walking the nose. There was one moment though, when a group of birds were flying in the migratory V-formation, north along the beach toward Atlantic City. The amazing thing was this flock of about twenty birds flew just a few feet above the surface of the ocean and directly in my direction. I laid prostrate on my board and just watched as they flew over, so close I could clearly see that they were ducks. In the same frame of sight, the sun sparkled off the water creating an amazingly beautiful testament to the pure beauty of mother Earth. I was overcome with awe on top of the stoke I’d already received.

What a great day!

Rincon's Famous Breaks - Steps and Tres Palmas

This image is from Steps Beach and Tres Palmas surf break. When we arrived in Rincon on Tuesday - this was the first famous break we visited. You can see the surf from the Road to El Faro (The Lighthouse). A dirt road leads down to the beach with a small turn-around for parking. I immediately recognized Tres Palmas from photos I have seen on the internet (keep in mind, there are more than three palm trees at this break). There were only two cars parked at the beach. They belonged to some people who were snorkeling. An attractive woman in her late forties and an older gentleman told tales of seeing beautiful brightly colored coral, some small fish, and a few baby sea turtles - how precious (86 the sarcasm). As you can see in the photo, the surf was virtually nonexistent - which means perfect conditions for snorkeling.

Also, nearby I spotted some surf campers with their tent set up. I walked over to get a good photo of the steps and say hello. After a friendly greeting, I became somewhat wary as I noticed they were enjoying a morning pick-me-up, passing around a bottle of liquor - a little hair off the dog that bit yah, just like Spring Break '98!

Julie and I never got into the water at Steps - though the next day we did cast off from Maria's Beach and paddled after some surf at Tres Palmas. Thursday, as a big swell came in, I had to avoid this break because I couldn't handle it as a kook (6 - 8 feet).



I was fascinated by the fact that as the swell rose, the surf broke further out from the shore - this has something to do with physics and wave height v. ocean depth. It was a powerful experience to see the Steps in still waters one day and then see white wash angry ocean the next.

Check out the video Tres Palmas - There Will Be Swell on YouTube. March 2008 the waves got Big Boriqua-style! Ah, the ocean's way of celebrating the 10th Anniversary of Spring Break '98. Well done lil' lady.

The beauty of Rincon is that these great surf breaks are all part of a Natural Marine Reserve. Kudos to those who have lobbied on the behalf of Mother Nature! As a result, they have a rustic - state parkesque feel. It reminded me of my days as a child at Selkirk Shores in Port Ontario, N.Y. Hope you get the chance to visit someday!

Avoiding the Barbed Wire Fence of Fear

OCEAN VIEW IN SAN JUAN, PR

3. Surfing has changed how I view myself.

Narberth, PA 6:53 AM 44 degrees Clear sky as sunrises. Greyish blue fades into white fades into orange at the horizon. Birds up early, lots of chirping, geese honking.

Our journey to Rincon began with the R5 train ride from Narberth to 30th street station, followed by the R1 airport line to US Airways departures. It was Saturday morning before Easter break and our flight to San Juan was overbooked. What stands out in my journal writing is the emphasis on emotion I felt about the upcoming week.

- Couldn't sleep last night - too excited about too much: trip to P.R., new puppy, final paper to finish MA program. I'm excited to see, hear, smell, taste a new place. Very excited about getting back in the water. Also anxious.

The anxiety was due in part to a lack of self confidence in my ability to surf. More generally, I think it was tied to the fear of the unknown. I'd never been to Puerto Rico. I'd never been on a surfari. I'd never shared the water with professionals and territorial locals. These fears were rooted in my inexperience. As the great David Lee Roth said in his monumental autobiography Crazy From the Heat, something like knowing that I didn't know what I thought I knew was all I ever really needed to know. Like Roth, I too was blessed with self awareness:

I'll do a rental lesson with Julie the first day = probably Wed because we're kooks. I hate feeling like an amateur but I have to crawl before I can walk to the nose.

Embracing my kookiness, my newcomer status, allowed me to relax. Recognizing the reality of the situation (I don't really know what I am doing) and putting aside my ego made asking for directions, taking lessons, and begging for help easier. In fact, it made the whole vacation much more enjoyable! Thank God that I realized this before I even left Narberth.

The First Surfari

2. Surfing has changed what I want to do on my vacation.

When I first met Julie's parents and my future in-laws, I was watching MTV's coverage of Spring Break 1999. As a recent college graduate, I longed for the care-free, reckless, and self-destructive mayhem playing out on beaches across Florida, Mexico, and the Caribbean. Dave and Peg knocked at the door and I clicked off the television. In response to their warm, enthusiastic Hello!, I simply stated, "If I could give my younger brothers one piece of advice, it would be to go on Spring Break." Months later when Julie told her dad she was dating her redheaded roommate, he gasped, "you mean the Spring Break guy?"

Needless to say, Spring Break has a special place in my heart. This year my wonderful wife Julie planned a trip to Rincon, Puerto Rico to celebrate Spring Break '09! I was lukewarm to the idea due to the impending economic doom caused by the banking financial crisis. Also, I had the specter of my Masters Comprehensive Exams hanging over my head along with the work for my final grad class. I thought I might use spring break, not for enjoyment but to get ahead on my work. (Soooooo lame!)

Julie prevailed, despite my misgivings, to do everything necessary to ensure a fantastic trip! She found really cheap airfare and a direct flight to San Juan, PR, booked a night at the famous Art Deco hotel Normandie, and rented an inexpensive apartment from a super wonderful couple in the great surf town of Rincon. This Spring Break was our first Surfari and what better surf destination than the Hawaii of the Caribbean, RINCON!

The next series of blog posts are taken from the journal I kept during the break. Throughout the week, I found myself chanting: best vacation ever, best vacation ever. Spring Break '09 was not the traditional - get tore up from the floor up, foam party, car bombs, hangovers and fast food. It was something completely different - going to bed at 9PM, getting up at 5:30AM, no T.V., - only pure appreciation of the ocean, the land, the air, and the stoke.

Surf for Your Life: The Launch

This blog is devoted to recording my thoughts and feelings about surfing. I believe that surfing has fundamentally changed my life. In Allan Weisbecker's great surfing memoir In Search of Captain Zero he states that whenever someone asks him to teach them how to surf, he responds "Careful, surfing will change your life."

In what ways has surfing changed my life?

1. Surfing has changed how I view the ocean and being in the water.

In the summer of 2007, I started to realize that I did not enjoy being in the water. The waters off the Jersey Shore are murky and often cold. In the summer the beaches get very crowded. Bathers are restricted to guarded areas and they congregate in masses from the ages of 2 to 72. I often thought about how much human waste was being dispensed as we all tried to body surf without running into one another. There is the fish and crab factor. My toes always fell victim to the sharp claws and the stinging pinch of the crabs, while my feet and legs often brushed against something rough and scaly. Finally, the unforgiving jelly fish. One too many times, I walked out into the water jumping in pain from the sharp pinch of a crab only to see three or four jelly fish floating nearby. I hit a wall. Overwhelmed by frustration, I actually considered never going into the water again. I'd stay beach side in the warm sun, safe from the treacherous waters and the demons that lay within.

But then I tried surfing.

Now I see the water, the ocean, and the waves in a completely new light. The ocean is no longer just a depository of creepy sea creatures, human waste, and pollution. It is the source of pure enjoyment, exercise, energy, and excitement. The ocean is my playground. The surf board is my own personal watercraft. I can paddle across the ocean's surface, lay back on my board and rest, sit up and see the sights, and most enjoyable of all - I can ride the waves. I love to be in the water. Crabs, Jelly fish, even sharks can't sink my ship! Why has my perception of the ocean changed so drastically? It is because of the powerful feelings, the emotions I feel when I surf. Surfing creates a spectrum of emotions - from extreme excitement to serene tranquility and the ocean provides the venue for this wondrous activity.