Monday, February 11, 2013
It is that time of year when things traditionally slow down a bit, surf wise. Actually, not but a handful of months ago, I'm angling to set myself up for my most surfy East Coast winter ever. Work progressing on the beach house, the thing nearly ready for the some re-electric and some re-insulation and the final patch up. I'm even sold on which wood-fired stove I'm going to install in the house. Then I hurt my left knee thanks to all that repeated kneeling and lifting, and I'm retarded just a bit. Then Sandy puts a big stop to everything. The holiday crush sets in and time becomes shorter, the chill sets upon us and the place is still a shell, unfit for any proper warmth. And, of course I plug my other knee and I'm really out. On top of it all, the starter in my truck goes out, work goes off the rocker and I don't have the moment to wrap my brain around anything other than surviving here in Brooklyn. Typical. We set things up, look for the bright near-future, immediately reset for the bright mid-range-future with a sudden sober realization that really it's all long-term figuring. But then someone smiles and winks and reminds you that "life is short" and the whole thing suddenly seems like an unattainable pipe dream. And then you roll it all in beer-batter, fry it, craft some kind of garlic-mayo paste, cut up some red onions and cabbage and make a croissandwich outta the whole thing. Carry on. Carry on.