1. The thought crosses my mind more than once. Why do I only post these Week In Not Surfing lists when I'm on assignment in some far off place? Why do I write it as "on assignment" as if I'm some sort of conflict zone journalist? I'm not. I work in advertising. I advertise things. And I don't write lists about my experiences in New York with such detail as I do when I'm off making advertisery things. Why do I work in advertising? Like many, I suppose, who work alongside me in advertising, I work in advertising because being an artist doesn't pay. Being an artist doesn't, or didn't, fit my then-undersized ego. I was also completely, am nearly now mostly, lacking in craftsman skills. And being a doctor or lawyer weren't in my motivation-hindered student's grades. Besides, advertising pays.
2. When I'm home I fuss about my hair. Or really, the dryness of my scalp. I fuss over my breath. I fuss over the laundry. I fuss over my children and what they eat. I fuss over whether I am drinking too much or not enough. Water or spirits. I ride my bike to my studio and then to my office. I ride my bike home at the end of the day. My back tire is bent and wobbles. I've been meaning to get it fixed for the last three weeks but I can't find the time.
3. I recently bought a new iPhone to replace my old iPhone that went on the fritz. One of the first things I forgot to put on the new iPhone were my surf apps. Swellinfo, Surfline, Magic Seaweed. I blame this on the fact that I got my new phone the same day I took a plane to London. I think I downloaded the Delta app.
4. Maybe I don't write Not Surfing posts at home because I think my life in New York is boring. Maybe I pay attention less here. But that's not true. My life here is not boring and I am still neurotically eagle-eyed. Maybe it's because when I'm here I should be surfing. I succumb to some button-lipped shame about not being in the water. Who's paying attention anyhow? I am.
5. On Saturday I woke up with a scratchy throat. A painful throat. But nothing too bad. It was slightly dark out, and obviously cold. It was before sunrise and I'd set my alarm to meet Antonio in Long Beach for my first surf in over a month. I texted him about my throat. He was solicitous, kind. Maybe he didn't want to bother his bedsheets either. He was good at hiding his disappointment. And I didn't get sick.
6. This morning Swellinfo says, was green and 2-3 ft. I didn't check my Swellinfo app last night and my wife was out of the house by 6:30 this morning on her way to work, leaving me with the morning triple duty of dog-boy-boy. Or boy-dog-boy as birth order would have it. Tomorrow it is green and 1-2 ft. My wife is out of the house on the road by 7:30, or so the Google calendar informs me. Sun up at 6:30ish. That gives me roughly 20 minutes of water time if I get there at 5:45. And I still might get stuck in traffic and be relationship-destroyingly late to get her out the door.
7. I've never wanted to live in Los Angeles. But as I get older the idea of living in a place near that place get's more, shall we say, attractive.