This Week In Not Surfing

1. There is this thing happening on other continents. Death and migration, wrapped up in a burrito of mismanagement of misbegotten mistakes. And there is anger. Justified anger with unjustified reactions. On every side. And this has extended to this continent where these sorts of mistakes are so common place and entrenched in our system of thought thanks to an earlier extension and an ensuing bizarre game of hubris riddled one-upmanship. People have gone mad. It is a mad mad world. And this is the biology of it. This is the evolutionary checks our planet desperately puts upon us in a continuous stream of last ditch efforts, setting of smoke fires and pointing at smoking guns to smoke us out, figuring in some sort of nonthoughtcosmic way that perhaps this time we'll get the message. And some do, maybe. I can't tell. I think some do. Some seem like they do. But you'd think the knowledge that grows into wisdom would be some kind of unignorable scorching white light of truth. You'd think something so true and real and unimpingable (their word not mine) would be simply too much of all these things to be dismissed. And yet this seems not to be the case. It's a real puzzler.

2. When will they figure out that Jose Mourinho's stale concoction of acridly defensive tactics and putridly negative psychological tricks is simply toxic. Its like an injection of steroids that inevitably make the joints weak and the balls small. I am not a schadenfreude filled person under nearly any circumstance. It is not part of my make up. But this part about Chelsea falling apart just tugs at those particular lonely, rigor-mortized heart strings inside.

3. I surfed this morning for the better bit of an hour. The better bit of just over an hour. Clean, lined up peelers in Long Beach Long Island New York State. Slipping into my wetsuit this morning the zipper pulled out of long standing treaty designed to ensure my warmth. It was a shock to see the whole thing in tatters after so many years of harmonious collaboration. I soldiered on of course, accepting the flushing rhythms of late November Atlantic seawater to keep my mind clear of unnecessary thoughts.

4. Thanksgiving this year was full of love and gratitude on a scale I have become accustomed to being surprised by. From EBNY to you, we hope you've had a great one. And if not, we hope the perspective is strong to know there's another one next year. And if you know for sure there won't be another one next year, we hope you are satisfied with the part you've played helping those around you enjoy a gentler ride in your presence.