It’s Performance, Art

BLOG PART (Optional)

My sweet new laptop has been replaced by a new, sweet sweet laptop. Dell has given up on me. The only problem is the new one still has the slow keyboard response. Oh, I can type on the screen, but, for a guy who can type like, um, Mick Fanning surfs, fast, few mistakes, quick on the backspace, it’s hunt and peck and frustrating.

But, very soon, I’ll be trading it to my son, Sean, for his older version, Microsoft Word built in rather that rented for two hundred bucks a year or so. Meanwhile, I’m risking carpal tunnel writing on Trisha’s Microsoft XP, no longer supported by the (I wanted to say something like ‘motherland,’ with it’s gentle connotations) Corporation. When I find the disc to sync up my old printer/scanner, back in the art and words business. Or I’ll wait for Sean’s trade-down.

And, since I’m still blogging here, Sean just passed all his required state tests, and has left the hostile work environment of Sears for a new (hopefully) career in insurance. Yeah; his mother and I are quite pleased.

NON-BLOG NON-OPTIONAL CRITICAL SECTION

Now… performance in the ocean. Real or perceived. It seems that, during an average session, I catch more waves than others, make more waves than others. This is the OBJECTIVE part. Does that make me a better surfer or a better wave-catcher? We recognize a surfer getting a good ride; style, flow, maneuvers. If it’s a competitive surfer, radical moves must flow beginning to end, takeoff to dismount. This is the SUBJECTIVE part.

If Jordy had only looked a bit more enthusiastic between the outside section and the inside dry reef, he might have gone farther at Bells. Oh, that’s also subjective.

And who is to judge?

And… The winner is… “the surfer having the most fun.” Sure, let’s drop back to that line. So, maybe, during my last session, the kook who caught three waves, jumping up before he actually caught a few more; his friend who yelled out, “I’m on it!” several times when no one was competing for the wave; his other friend who muffed the take off on a great wave, and, when I asked him how upset that must have made him, said, “It’s fine. I’ll probably do it again; maybe a few times;” all these, and maybe most of the others in the water, these were the winners.

Though I appreciate the feel-good-quality of what I’ve just written, and I’m willing to argue for the position, putting it along with my acceptance that the going-to and the getting-home portion of a session should be counted as part of the session; I still want to turn a few heads on the beach and in the water; if not for big moves, maybe for enthusiastic body language; a casual sideways move from arch to hand in the curl, too cool to head dip, too secure to grab a rail. 

“Cowa—a—-bunga!” Not a claim, just a nod.

“Did you see that one wave?”

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