Or… Namedropping and Trolling, and sniping.

I YouTubed the latest BEACH GRIT Saturday morning. Not the hour plus version, a more user friendly ten minutes (or so) edit (I’m assuming), the first three minutes (or so) an advertisement for a solar watch I just have to purchase. The topic was… I don’t remember. Oh, yeah, it was a response to letters to the editor (sorry, emails from the blog-ets); in this case, what a surf dude should wear to get married in, from arbiters of all things surfing, David Lee Scales and Chas Smith (and I apologize for calling David Lee Seales last time). Good stuff. Not what I was intending to write about.

I got this image from “Mariska and Fernando something something.” Congratuations!

’ll get to that. FIRST, I must say I was kind of jazzed that, according to my tablet, the post had been, you know, posted, like, forty-two minutes earlier AND had, at that time, no comments. Not that I ever comment. I think it requires signing in somewhere, and emojis, and misspellings, and pretty horrific grammatic usage. BUT, I must add, I am a fan of surf-centric content, though I’ve seen enough that I fast-forward frequently; especially when (even) one of my cosmic, cloud-breaking, globe-floating surf heroes (even Nate or Jamie or any of the Koas) start hyping product and/or starts being too whiny or obsequiously and, possibly, phony-ly nice. AND I have yet to subscribe to any channel or blog. BUT, if you subscribe to worldwide (honestly, they keep track and I check… daily) non-phenomenon… realsurfers, I’m not going to beg, but so many, many thanks, many congrats on your, um, discernment (insert virtual kiss emoji here).

I DO HOPE following Dave and Chas and then commenting on their commentary doesn’t make me a troll, BUT TODAY’S TROLLING is because their recent identifying/outing TYLER WRIGHT as an entitled, privileged, ‘I’m a victim,’ narcissist got me thinking. Yes, I was kind of taken aback, while watching hours of a WSL contest from somewhere, that she mentioned, you know, menstruation and its effects on heat strategy, but I didn’t get more involved than that. BUT I don’t have the insider access D and C have.

WAIT, aren’t most sports stars a little bit… that? Aren’t most, even non-world-class surfers somewhere on the self-centered spectrum? Since I’ve long been of the opinion that most who surf with a skill level over day three surf camp (day two, private lesson) are, placed in the competitive petri dish arena at any decent surf spot, SOCIOPATHS, adding a bit of the victimhood aspect doesn’t faze me at all. OR HURT ME.

ANY OF us who have taken and/or can take the time to develop skills in a difficult sport, often performing (or trying to snag a wave if not a set bomb) in crowded conditions, might be considered Privileged, Entitled, Narcissistic, Irrefutably Sociopathic Headcases (PENIS HEADS, for short). Enjoying the activity… Separate issue. Separate posting. Later.

“Me, Me!” Mine, Mine!” “Going Right!” “Going Left!” “Going Straight!” “MeMeMine!”

TAKE THIS TEST: If you’re surfing like shit, is it someone else’s fault? Of course. Or the wrong board, or the wrong wax, or some backpaddling assholes and/or drop-in bitches (bitches in the non-gender way)? For the non-surfers, think about navigating heavy traffic (your choice of vehicle), OR the lineup at the multi-pump COSTCO. If you picked the gas tank on the right side line because you know the hose will make it AND the line is shorter, BUT some asshole decides to take his or her (formerly correct way to say ‘their’ as identifying something singular) sweet ass time topping off their Hummer or checking their mileage… whatever, YES, it is their fault that you’re late to the barbeque, their fault the guacamole went brown in your artisan sidedish.

NOT TO MAKE THIS overlong, a greater privilege for the truly entitled is to be able to write and post sarcastic, sniping commentary on, you know, like, whatever.

HOWEVER, I must add that I harbor no ill will toward Tyler, John Peck, or pretty much anyone else. WAIT. Thinking. There are, not that I’m bent too far over in a direction a reader might recognize, a few politicians I wouldn’t want to hang out with, clowns who make me a bit gRUMPy.

BY WAY of confession; when I do get up to the gas pumps, I do take my sweet-ass time.  Let’s see; 281.5 miles divided by 12.5 gallons equals 22.5 mpg. YEA! Thanks, Volvo.

AND, as with every time I see a post from Nathan or the quickie (only) from Keith Olbermann, or the first (surfing) half of a video from Mason Ho, when I next see something with David Lee and Chas; NO NEED TO ADD BAIT- Oh yes… CLICK.

NEXT TIME (maybe), Why we all want to be realer than other surfers.

Meanwhile, if you can’t be nice, be real.