I AM SKIPPING anything and everything connected to today’s SUPERBOWL. Various reasons, including my lack of desire to see any fat fucks trying to get creepily close to TAYLOR SWIFT and/or sending in ideas for sure fire plays, and/or it’s not like the SEAHAWKS or my possibly new favorite team the RAIDERS are playing.
I am all caught up on the WSL Pipeline contest. I did watch it live on YouTube the other day, got to see John John Florence and Barron Mamyia battle it out. And then, because this is what we do, I watched it again, checking out the comments. It is a pretty expected thing to criticize the WSL, especially the judging. On site commentators increasingly, it seems, defend the judging. As such, the judges who gave Jack Robinson a ten for his backdoor barrel must have seen some slight ‘point of difference’ with John’s.
DEAR WSL OVERLORDS, I have no idea how this screenshot showed up on my phone. NO, wait a moment; yes, I was watching the contest live while waiting for the snowplow. No, not really; I was waiting for an online order to be delivered at the Fancy Store. One wrong click and, OH NO, I’m retransmitting without permisson. AND, yes; there is another step involved, but, in my defense, I will give the WSL full credit AND pass on ALL of the monies I receive for adding to your publicity. AND, yes; despite realsurfer’s WORLDWIDE AUDIENCE of tens of viewers, I do not receive any money.
PLUS, I kind of feel a connection. I ONCE wrote to JOE TURPEL when I hadn’t seen him for a while. AND he wrote back. Evidently he and his wife had a baby. OKAY, cool; OH, AND I did see and read an entire article about STRIDER just getting his home rebuilt when another fire took out other houses in the MALIBU area.
A judging panel for the 2015 (I believe) Cleanwater Classic Longboard contest in Westport. I’m the one in the reddish-brown hoodie. AND YES, I was rogue enough as a judge, calling them as I saw them, AND I was loud and disruptive enough that I was not asked to return, AND TOM BURNS, who recommended me for the position, also suffered a ding in his reputation that only took nine or so years to heal. Tom was a judge for the most recent incarnation of the Westport contest.
HOWEVER, watching the recent Pipeline contest, I was pretty ‘spot on’ (commentator talk), although, yes, I would have given John Florence a ten. He thought it was a ten, Barron thought it was a ten. There might be an ‘investigation’ before the ABU DHABI wave pool extravaganza. AND I am certain that Mr. Florence’s decision to not compete in any other ccontests this year was not a factor.
HEY, VALENTINE’S DAY is coming up. I have been working on some new songs to add to my “Love Songs for Cynics” collection, AND I have been trying to write a couple that are not blues, and are actual LOVE SONGS. So far, none that I’m stoked enough on to post here.
AND, OF COURSE, I continue to work on my OPUS, “Swamis,,” trying to get it polished to near perfection (9.79) before the painting season gets going.
NON-POLITICAL STUFF- A friend of mine who is pretty proud of pointing out how religious he is (not so much pride, probably, to constitute sinning-ness), recently told me he may have been fooled into believing the once and current president is in any way a Christian. “Oh, yeah;” I said, “I think I read that would happen somewhere.”
HISTORICALLY I have surfed or worked on Superbowl Sundays, and I might do so today. Whatever you do, ENJOY IT!
And, then, on the way back…
OH, wait, are these secret spots? Will showing these images increase the number of surfers and hodads and posers (same as hodad, but, if you didn’t know that, you, well, may actually be a poser, poseur if you’re a more-nuanced hodad) and power couples and enthusiasts and parking area maestros and lineup primadonnas?
Real Surfers 
Erwin,
If it’s of any value to the surfing community, I’d like to recite some first-hand oral history about Pt. Grenville.
I surfed there from 1967 to -69, when I was in high school. We just showed up with surfboards and camped for the weekend, without any fuss from “authorities.”
Then, in 1969, we showed up as usual, and a truck pulled up and a well-spoken, close-shaved Indian came over to us in an very authoritarian manner, and spoke to us ominously, “Where are you boys from?”
“Bremerton,” we said.
Then he looked at the rock cliffs covered in grafitti, and most of it was the names of various high schools painted in great big letters in a wide variety of colors.
He paused and said, “If I looked up at these rocks and saw ‘West Bremerton,’ or ‘East Bremerton’ written here, I’d arrest you and put you in jail. But as it is, you can just leave.”
So we got kicked out, and never went back. Good thing us Bremerton guys specialize more in thievery and violence, and “school spirit” was for “soces.” Besides, our writing skills were sketchy, anyway.
In 1970 I heard that some friends tried to go there, and the Quinaults confiscated their boards and they had to pay fines. I left the state in 1970, and have not heard anything about it since, except for your piece on this web page.
BTW, concerning Washington surfing at the time, I had the feeling that Pt. Grenville was the only place, because the waves were dependable. I wasn’t part of any big surfing “scene,” because there were so few of us, so I don’t know if there were many guys scouting all the coastline in the state, looking for a good break. In those days, I’d never heard of surfing at Westport. (What’s more, I lived the 1970s in San Francisco, and never heard of Mavericks, though no one else seemed to know about it, either.) People in Bremerton were always going there for more fishing. When we got out of high school, it seemed like everyone went to Hawaii, got jobs, and stayed for awhile.
Aside: We didn’t use wet suits. When I was aged 6 to 9, I spent the summers living in a tent and a beach cabin at La Push, because my father was a commercial fisherman out of there & Neah Bay. My mom told me, “Just wait till you get numb, and you can play in the surf all day.” She was right. Last time I did it was 2010.
Clint Burks
So, I really don’t know anything about Mr. Burks except that he must be about my age, possibly another member of the class of 1969. And I have heard a few stories about Point Grenville in the mid 1960s, some which might explain why the beach was closed. Still, the image of some waves peeling off that point…
Here’s my latest illustration: