Movie: Are you a surf cliche?

A short-ish film, a very good one, that parodies the surf cliche… 

Do you enjoy the pleasure of stereotypes as much as me? Of course you do.

The celebrity-surfing-almost-killed, Amy Schumer, does it good. Click here to laugh! 

Actually, this good too. Slutty pal.

Anyway, no one does cliché better than surfers. How many sub-cultures can you count? Are you the front-zip-vest guy with long hair and a moustache who rides a leashless longboard? 

Maybe you model your game on Ryan Burch.

Do you remember all the Ozzie Wright-alikes?

This Australian-made short parodies the surfer stereotype staples of localism, bodyboarders and that dumb thing when the relatives of a surfer eaten by a shark say, “He would’ve wanted to die doing something he loved.”

The film isn’t flawless but a crust of bread given to a hungry man is better than nothing all, is it not?

Watch here. 


Fresh: Kelly Slater Surfs a Bean Bag!

For upscale San Francisco home furnishing chain Pottery Barn…

Have we made fun of Slater’s Pottery Barn Teens collection before? I feel like we did, but a search only turns up this quick mention from a year ago.

Really let that one slip away. Pretty terribly blah stuff. “PBTeen: Now your kid can live in a vacation rental!”

Kelly Slater PB Teen
Kelly loves to switch hit! Who doesn’t! Or is this photo used in promotional literature for the home retailer PB Teen… flawed?

Awful, boring, expensive. But what do I know? I buy my furniture from the thrift store and sleep on a mattress that sits on the ground.

But this video! It’s a year old, how did I miss it?

You’ve got access to the best surfer who has ever lived. He plopped his name on your product, agreed to film some promo material. You sit down with your team of marketing dorks who are totally hip to what the kids dig, and this is the best you can come up with?

“Yeah, we should, like, totally get him on an SUP with a beanbag chair. It’s radical fresh!”


Dane Reynolds gives finger

Update: Reynolds Sues Quiksilver!

Your favourite surfer goes after the no-longer bankrupt Quiksilver for $3.59 million!

(Editor’s note: As it transpires, our little piece of second-hand reporting might be wrong. There was a comment that appeared, briefly, in the three below from Dane Reynolds aka sealtooth that read: “I don’t normally chime in on this stuff but this is so very false and super embarrassing.” Rory Parker’s legal connection, his gal, swiftly rounded up all the documents tended to the court and…ooowee… y’ain’t seen nothing like it. Offer letters, rejections, odd clauses like this: Screen Shot 2016-04-29 at 4.54.31 pm

And, every single detail about his contract. We release these fabulous documents tomoz!)

Dane Reynolds is suing Quiksilver in Delaware court, reports Swellnet.

At issue is $3.59 million bucks purportedly owed to Mr Reynolds, possibly due to a breach of contract stemming from Quik’s inability to remove Dane from promotional materials in a timely manner once he’d abandoned the sinking ship.

Why Delaware?

Because the state is the closest thing to an offshore tax haven that exists within US borders.

The state features minimal taxes, corporate friendly laws, and the ability to operate anonymously. Great place to hide money, avoid paying your fair share. Lawyer wife has been urging Mr Derek to incorporate BeachGrit there for a while. You can do it online, no need to pay Australia’s terrible taxes.

Skirt the upside-down country’s oppressive libel laws to boot. You could still totally sue us, but it wouldn’t be nearly as easy. And I’d get a lot less stuff edited because being mean in the absence of facts is apparently a crime down under.

The article also mentions another suit related to $7.3 million dollars in severance monies owed to former employees.

It’s really no surprise that a bankrupt company is being sued for money owed. After all, that’s the point of bankruptcy. Screwing your creditors.

Once the wife gets home I’ll force her to search the legal databases that totally confuse me. Will report any new information she can shake loose.


Parker: “When surf saved my life!”

For a fucked-up teen, surf was my escape. Free from self-doubt and self-hatred…

I’ve been sitting in front of the computer all damn morning. Bashing my head against the keys, trying to shake loose something. Anything.

I’m just over writing about surfing at the moment. It’s so lame. I’m so jaded.

Wasn’t always this way. Until I hit 30 I was more or less gay for surf.

If the sport had a dick it would’ve been balls deep inside me. Maybe I’m just a little sore these days. Maybe I can channel a little of that old stoke. Steal some inspirado from the days I’d devour every surf mag cover to cover, instead of half heartedly flipping through an issue while I take a shit.

The year was 1994. Shane Beschen was my favorite surfer in the world. His wide leg stance, buried rail gouges, a fins free game years ahead of its time. What wasn’t to love?

I was riding terrible boards. The super narrow, ridiculously thin, rockered out elf shoe garbage all the cool kids had. Pretty much Slater’s fault. Agonizing over sticker placement, spending hours getting the perfect wax bump going. Normal idiot teenage boy, didn’t have an original thought in my head. Boners 24/7, too awkward to convince a girl to touch it.

For a fucked-up teenager in the midst of terrible hormonal swings, life turned upside down, new school, no friends, surf was my escape. Total cliché, I know. But true. A few hours a day in the moment. Free from self-doubt and self-hatred and whatever behavorial problems I’d have been diagnosed with if it were ten years later.

I’d been kicked out of school a few months before. Kinda. More like got in trouble, mom was sick of her three sons. Dropped us off with dad. Didn’t see her much after that. What little I did was too much.

If I’m being honest, I never really got over it. Stopped speaking to the woman years ago. No great loss. Probably worked out for the best. Dad’s a better person, got an awesome stepmom. Molokai channel paddling waterwoman. Puts the men in our family to shame.

For a fucked up teenager in the midst of terrible hormonal swings, life turned upside down, new school, no friends, surf was my escape. Total cliché, I know. But true. A few hours a day in the moment. Free from self-doubt and self-hatred and whatever behavorial problems I’d have been diagnosed with if it were ten years later.

Pre-internet surf content was few and far between. Er and Ing every month, most of the info months old. A VHS copy of The Green Iguana I’d rewatched until the tape was tattered. And the occassional contest broadcast. I don’t remember what channel it was on, or if it was ever anything more than Cali beach break slop comps. But it didn’t matter. It was surfing, that was enough.

I’ll never forget the ’94 Beschen/Slater final. So stoked they played it on TV. Probably a few weeks after the event, but it didn’t matter. I had no idea who won. Didn’t read the paper, still came before the mags dropped.

Back and forth battle, Slater needed a 9.8-something in the dying moments. Snagged a quicky cover-up off the pier, punted an air on the end section. Ten! Had to be.

Wasn’t. Slater lost. Beschen hammered the final nail home by drawing an interference.

Pretty cool Warshaw saw fit to save the heat, posted it so I can relive the moment.

 


Webber wavepool

Parker: “Surfing’s Soul Doesn’t Exist!”

So why worry about surfing being in the Olympics?

The Olympics is a dirty business. A platform from which to whip the world’s citizens into jingoistic fervor, built on a foundation of corruption, and misappropriated government funds.

It provides niche sport athletes a chance to compete on the world stage. Helps corporations piggyback their way into your pocket book. Reportedly degenerates into an Olympic village hump-fest without fail.

Fernando Aguerre has been leading the push for surfing’s Olympic inclusion since the early nineties. A former rubber slipper magnate with a somewhat suspicious penchant for bow ties Aguerre is, by all reports, a true believer.

Emotionally invested in the sport, truly wanting nothing more than to see the competitive side of the slide slip its way into global consciousness. It’s a perplexing dream, that desire to pigeon hole creative release within the confines of competition.

Aguerre recently “recently hosted some IOC officials at the WSL event at Snapper Rocks to give them a taste of the sport in action.”

It might be unkind to insinuate that “host” is a euphemism for bribe, but the past behavior of IOC officials makes the suspicion tough to avoid. All evidence points to the conclusion that Olympic inclusion is largely pay-to-play. Which hardly makes Aguerre a bad actor, merely a devoted adherent working within the confines of the system.

Back in 2015 our own Chas Smith wrote on The Daily Beast,

“The inherent nature of snowboarding is anti-establishment. Inclusion in that shit is counter to our deal,” my wife, Circe, tells me. Now she is an extreme-sport agent and her client, Iouri Podladtchikov, won halfpipe gold in Sochi and got a massive bonus, so she is happy. 

For all their differences snowboarding and surfing share a common “anti-establishment” rhetoric. But, despite a purported emphasis on freedom and individuality it’s hard to ignore the fact that both pursuits are primarily practiced by the relatively affluent, requiring ample free time, disposable income, and a proximity to either mountains or ocean.

Neither of which boast affordable housing or low cost of living. Addicts without the ability to reap professional endorsements may live in squalor to sustain their high, but the average rider retreats each day to a life which is relatively cushy. Neither is truly anti-establishment so much as it is a chance for beneficiaries of the establishment to temporarily shed their shackles.

And so, like snowboarding, surfing’s “soul” is in no real danger. Because it doesn’t exist, beyond the minds of over-zealous devotees and the tag lines of multiple marketing campaigns.

A huge complication for potential inclusion is venue. All hype points towards a wave pool, certainly a possibility considering a purpose-built pool wouldn’t be saddled with the need for a sustainable business model. Like many past Olympic complexes a self-contained wave could be safely allowed to languish unridden once the closing ceremony is complete. 

But, as yet, a truly competitive venue contained within a stagnant pond remains a pipe dream. The Wavegarden has thus far disappointed. Plagued by mechanical failures and a reality far from the groomed perfection on display in promotional propaganda. While Slater’s pool looks promising there’s been little word since the big reveal. Snowdonia also delivered footage of glassy fun perfection, but reality’s shown it’s a lumpy mess when run all day.

And it seems the IOC has its heart set on the real deal. According to Aguerre, “The IOC and Tokyo 2020 want things that are certain and the ocean is certain.” 

Only it isn’t, a fact of which all surfers are keenly aware. Surfing may be popular on the beaches surrounding Tokyo, but a world class destination it is not. Barring access to, or inclination towards, a high quality self contained wave it’s a near certainty the event would be run in sub par surf. Hardly engaging, even for the most ravenous surf fan.

In the end we’re all spectators to whatever events unfold. Whether surfing is included, or not, will be decided by powerful men behind closed doors. It will depend on politicking and profits, not the approval of a group of salty misanthropes clinging to their perception of sanctity.

Which is fine. Surfing, like skateboarding, another potential newcomer, is in no way dependent upon competition. The act exists completely separate from its “governing body.” Whether the games go or not will have little effect on our lives.

If surfing gets the nod we’ll all tune in, complain about the judging, bitch about the waves. Then move on. Repeat in four years.

There’s no reason to fight it, no reason to support it. It just doesn’t matter.