…combined, and way more important. Our current presider has taken wayyyy more power for himself than any real American who believes in checks and balances and rule of law could possibly be comfortable with.

Now, no one really wants to surf with a wave hog (I say with blatant and obvious hypocrisy); no one wants to surf with someone who dictates who else can be sharing the water (not me this time; referencing crazy localizers intimidating or blatantly threatening folks just trying to enjoy the glide); no real surfer could really be supportive of… wait… okay, I’m still trying to figure out who could support the current commandeerer-in-chief, other than rich folks who have reaped massive financial rewards at the expense of roads and infrastructure and the actual and shrinking middle class; and my best assessment, so far, my best comparison, is to the kids who sat in the back of the class, couldn’t keep up with the curriculum, and ridiculed and made fun of those who tried to learn.

When silver-spooners talk about the ‘elite,’ they really seem to be speaking of, you know, like, uh, smart people. Some people, otherwise nice, decent folks, are, I have to believe, just victims of the most successful Huckster since P.T. Barnum. And then there are those individuals who claim Donny T is just like them. Wow.

OKAY, too painful to think about that, suddenly imagining Big Boy in camo, climbing, with assistance from willing assistants, into his big ass truck with the gold-plated naked lady mud flaps and the chrome gun racks.

Again, and, as always, I really would rather talk about surfing… so, after two Strait sessions in which I only avoided total skunkings by having a big enough board to catch very small waves, I did find some really fun and uncrowded waves (flat on the Hawaiian scale, waist-to-chest high Juan de Fuca scale). So fun.

As I told several of my surfer friends, having one good session makes enduring two less good (but still good) sessions seem more, uh, okay. Oh, I’m sure I expressed this is less awkward terms. Maybe not. Adam Wipeout, who just knew it was working but had to work, said, talking to me on the phone while I was at Costco, that my stoke-meter seemed to be ‘pegged.’

It was. We write off less than epic sessions as ‘practice,’ almost forget about them when we get real waves. The real election is on right now. It’s going off; hope you’re participating.