Pacific Swell

Purple permanently planted in the North Pacific. Magic Days. If we look tired/happy/sunburned/stoked, it's because we are. We been swimming through a chorus of a beautiful song all winter. No longer matters how extremely different our lives may be on land, we're all still searching for the same thing: a surf to get us through the day.
Rubbing hands together to stay warm in the crisp air. Cold water, sharks. Sitting alone in the water, vulnerable. Weirdo.
The wave approaches, boiling over the outside rocks. The afternoon light turns the wave an olive oil.
Why does food taste so much better when you are on the beach? The flavor dance on my palate. We are at a creepy place, ideal for watching the sunset. Beer time, story time. Then he reaches into his breast pocket to extract a small bottle of whisky. He takes a nip, then offers it around. Everyone takes a sip. The liquid burns my throat, but I am thankful when it hits my chest and stomach spreading like lava around my core.
We are no longer the rustic boys hanging in the wild. We sit on the curb. Salt hardening on our eyebrows and watch people cruise the boardwalk. Watch girls in UCSD shorts jogging by.
Our day starts late. Surfboards in the back of the truck, Concrete Blonde blathering on the radio, and my best friend since high school (happens to be Neco Padaratz) biting his nails and loudly sipping a strong energy drink.
And, between 2 a.m. and surf there will be girls. Surfing was created for man, not man for surfing.
Well, I woke up somewhere I don't know and have no real idea how. Empty champagne bottles all over the floor. Head pounding and naked. Born to be hip and smoke hand-rolled cigarettes. Surfing is an aphrodisiac. The water is as gray as the sky but multiple degrees colder. The first duck dive feels like a naughty punishment. The second feels worse. But sitting in the line up, urine coursing down leg, and the night getting washed away, everything makes sense. The muscles feels alive, tender.
Beer time again. A beer can be better than not paying taxes. A very cold beer is better than relationship stability. Now it's girl's time. I'm shopping at VONS... Then this gorgeous blonde with little piercing on her nose, wearing a tiny skirt and probably a little drunk... she is so fine and can't stop looking at the salt water-dusted hair and cold water-refreshed skin. A surf session can be worn more nattily than a vintage Bell and Ross. She smile and stares unashamedly now. I grabbed a 18-pack, she is winked over. The confidence of a surf session. She says: Where you gonna drink all those beers??!