Hardship hurts in the moment but is a wonderful
story afterward…
Sometimes we go on surf trips and our flights are all on
time. Our boards arrive un-dinged, the
sun shines, the waves barrel just barely overhead and the locals
smile at us while we are weaving through their barrels. When we
come home we tell our friends and lovers all about it.
We say, “Oh boy did I ever score. And the stewardess on the way
home, she was brunette and leggy and wowza honk honk
aaaahhhoooogaaahh and she made eyes at me the whole flight
long.”
When we say, “I spent seven days in a Balinese hospital because
little amoebas decided to eat my intestines” their eyes go wide
with fascination. Hardship, you see, is the stuff of legend.
Hardship hurts in the moment but is a wonderful story afterward and
will be remembered forever.
And they listen, half interested, until the bit about the
stewardess and then they roll their own eyes deep inside their
skulls. Perfection, you see, is boring. Perfection is fun in the
moment but not a good story afterward and not even particularly
memorable.
Because sometimes we go on surf trips and our flights catch fire
and divert to Panama City. Our boards don’t arrive, the sun either
sizzles like the heat of hell or stays completely hidden, the waves
tower and eat us alive or don’t show up and the locals pull
machetes on us or try to shoot us, as we camp on the beach, because
they know that white people turn into devils at night. And the
stewardess on the way home is a fat man from Djibouti who insists
on wearing shorts well above the knee.
When we come home and tell our friends and lovers about it, when
we say, “I spent seven days in a Balinese hospital because little
amoebas decided to eat my intestines” their eyes go wide with
fascination. Hardship, you see, is the stuff of legend. Hardship
hurts in the moment but is a wonderful story afterward and will be
remembered forever.
And so, on your next surf trip, don’t always take the easy way.
Keep your eyes wide, looking for possible adventure.
Is there a one legged man who tells of a secret wave far in the
distance? Go to that secret wave.
Is there a border to sneak across to get into a forbidden zone?
Sneak.
But don’t and I mean DO NOT try to create some hideous cliché
and pass it off as amazing.
Like, do not stay in a hostel and sit up smoking weed all night
with the Danish bar manager.
Do not drink the magic mushroom milkshake and dance under the
moonlight.
Do not go to a native village off the beaten path, come home and
tell your friends and lovers, “The natives live so much more simply
and, by extension, they are so much happier.”
That is the most hideous of clichés. The natives are not
happier. They yearn for high definition and paper money pegged to
the U.S. dollar with a narrow band.
