Right Said Fred

We float out in the water. Two rusty nails stuck to our nearly matching boards. It always feels pretty bad, those first few spring sessions. I mean, it feels great to be in the water, sure. There's that deep sigh of relief when it hits us how comfortable it is to be back in the ocean. But our surfing sucks and worse, there's that niggling asshole voice that comes in the echo chamber that keeps whining about how we didn't surf enough over the winter, that while we were nose down, trying to stay warm and be productive, all our friends were getting better at surfing while were were getting worse. And that's a sad thought, that thought "I am worse at surfing." And we argue back. We assert that we have to take care of the family, put a roof over our head, build our careers! And besides, the waves were crap this winter, and the few days that were good, well how the hell could we have planned for that? All of this bounces around bobbing between sets. And then we catch a wave and we suck. Granted, it's better than not catching the wave. And having a job is better than not having a job, and who wants a poke in the eye with a sharp stick? Sweet Jesus how high can we set our expectations? To make self deprecating matters look and sound even more ridiculous are these fine pieces of crafty engineering we are riding. See, because Tony and I have these Andreini Vaqueros we picked up last year. Yeah, it's like the official EBNY clubhouse fun board. And we dress the same in these black suits and bob up and down laughing at each others jokes. And we have the same job.  Like Mean Girls for hairy men. Except we're not mean. Well, Tony isn't. Maybe I'm mean.  But all we're talking about is how bad we've turned out as surfers approaching middle age. Approaching gently, from far off, sure, but approaching on a train that's going nowhere else. And we're talking about how great these boards are, and we're coming up with little dumb observations paddling out from each ride like "ooh, yeah, you know you really need to get it slotted in before it'll catch" and "this thing paddles great but you really need to let it do all the work." I mean if I weren't a super supporter of equality and if I weren't striving for a kind of respectful discourse, I would say without batting an eyelash that the whole thing sounds so "totally gay." But Fred Hemmings coulda told us that.  Not that the waves got over knee high today.