One hour ago, the Kelly Slater Wave Co and the
WSL published a compelling short made around his recent wave pool
event. With high-contrast cinematography, hearty first-person
observations and relentlessly perky direction, we become privy to a
fantastic new world where the ocean becomes unnecessary, where
surfing contests can now be given a palatable flavour and sold.
Matt Wilkinson says that he is “baffled” the pool has happened
in his lifetime.
The four-time world champion Mark Richards says, “There
are things you’d love to see in your lifetime: I never got to see
the Beatles play, I never got to see Led Zeppelin play but I got to
see Kelly’s wave pool and I’m totally stoked.”
One thing did make me fret.
How did all those cameras not snatch, cleanly, John John
Florence’s rodeo (see at 2:38), a striking contribution to the
day’s play.
A union is formed to break the stranglehold of
World Surf League oppression!
Oooooh you know how angry Surf Ranch makes me.
I boil for you, the people, who were uninvited to the maiden event,
left beyond the wall, treated like the cows roaming the fields. And
your servants in the surf media, dedicated to every story that
happens in our surfing world, we were left out too. We dutifully
cover the littlest stories, like Adriano de Sousa and Adriana Lima,
asking for nothing in return. And for this we get treated like
Pakistani dogs.
Oooooh the World Surf League, hereafter known as Upper
Management, believes it owns the keys but it is WE the surfing
people who are the means of production. For too long we have been
force fed a diet of bland gruel. For too long we have been meekly
thankful for Rosie Hodge post-heat interviews.
No longer.
The maiden Surf Ranch event was billed as a very small, totally
private kicking of the tires. But then everyone had gorgeous
jerseys that read Future Classic and many extremely wealthy people
toasted Michelob Ultras and the New York Times reported
that this event had the “perfect conditions for pro
surfing.”
“The perfect conditions for pro surfing.” The people locked
entirely out. The people forgotten. The people lapping gruel or
maybe warm Grey Goose and soda.
And so surf media has no choice but to unionize and carry out a
one day strike on behalf of the people. The Quiksilver France Pro
will be commencing in less than a week and the storylines are
legion. Title race closer than peas in a pod. Keanu Asing, last
year’s champion, sidelined. It is anyone’s game but the finals will
not be covered in any surf media.
The day will be dark (other than the bright light emanating from
our joint singing of Internationale).
But the day after will be a glorious one. It will be like
International Workers Day and Bastille Day combined. Upper
Management brought to its knees. The people behind the wall
toasting Michelob Ultras in the carved out skulls of investment
bankers.
Viva the people!
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You would think we would all be used to this by now.
Desensitized. Numb. But when the news trickles in it always feels
like the same motherfucking punch.
What are we supposed to do with all this tragedy as
surfers?
Tragedies are like hideous snowflakes, each one
unique, special, different but they all share similar
gut-wrenching, heart-breaking, traits. You would think we would all
be used to this by now. Desensitized. Numb. But when the news
trickles in it always feels like the same motherfucking punch.
I was in Las Vegas last night and was supposed to be at the
Mandalay Bay with my wife and four-year-old daughter at 9:00 PM for
a show that would have dumped us out at 11:30. Just after the hail
of gunfire began.
I chose to buy tickets for another and so was just slightly
north and oblivious.
This town means something to me and I get a bigger and bigger
thrill each time I come, not gambling or shopping or… watching
French Canadians perform physical magic but… I don’t exactly know.
Las Vegas is untethered and I love the untethered. I love the
surreal.
Las Vegas.
I’ve fallen slowly in love with this town over the years.
The first time I ever came I hated it thoroughly. I thought it
was a human cesspool. A midwestern genetic backwater. But now I
love it beyond almost any other. I was married here in a strange
swinger hotel on the windiest night in recorded history. Derek
Rielly flew all the way from Australia, last minute, to stand on
that stage. Dion Agius danced under the pale moonlight.
This town means something to me and I get a bigger and bigger
thrill each time I come, not gambling or shopping or… watching
French Canadians perform physical magic but… I don’t exactly know.
Las Vegas is untethered and I love the untethered. I love the
surreal.
Last night Sin City became all too human.
And what are we supposed to do with all this tragedy as surfers?
As notoriously shallow, barely connected surfers?
I have no idea but when I woke up today I took a cab. The driver
told me that his brother was there, at the scene, and ferried a
woman to the hospital. She died enroute and he was detained until
six in the morning. When he was discharged he went to give
blood.
I took another cab and the driver was at a dance club right next
door. He was dancing with friends until the bar manager turned on
the lights and told them it was all over. Some nightmare was
happening outside. He went home, filled his car with snacks and
water and started giving people free rides.
We both chatted, joked, laughed then left on our separate
ways.
I am now chatting, joking, laughing with people who were at the
concert, who hid behind dumpsters as bullets rained down and I
guess this is just it. Human beings are a disastrous bunch. We are
fickle, selfish, mean. But we are wildly surreal.
And I love you you all.
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“The way that it all started off is that I literally
saw a suit and thought it would be pretty silly and pretty
creative,” said Kalani Robb. “I picked a picture out that I liked.
I sent it to Andrew at 7TILL8, and 24 hours later I had the
suit.”
Today my life changed. Today all is right in my world.
Because today Quiksilver Japan unveiled their new wetsuit/apparel
mash-up: TRUE WETSUITS!
Gorgeous and slim! And 2015!
That’s right, modern suits, complete with crisp-looking
button down and and a tac-sharp tie. They even offer a tuxedo
model! I can’t imagine how Bondian one must feel getting barreled
in a tuxedo!(Come to think about it, they should sell the suits
with flasks! That’s my second grievance with surfing! There’s few
options available for mid-session boozing! And I surf so much
better shithouse drunk!)
Yesterday. in a sponsored post on TheInertia under the
headline, Kalani Robb Wears a Badass Suit To
His New Job, the wetsuit company 7Till8, which
is under the creative command of the former world tour surfer and
sometime actor, has come up with…exactly…the same idea,
but two years later.
As reported,
One day in the not-too-distant future, lineups might look a
lot different. A lot more fun, to be precise. Right now, it’s black
wetsuit, game face, game time. But if Kalani Robb, who just took on
a new role as Creative Director at 7TILL8 Wetsuits, has his
druthers, surf spots are in store for a little spice. Enter
business suits with red power ties, movie-themed suits, unicorn and
rainbow graphics, and generally happier people riding waves. It’s
simple. Just change the uniform.
7TILL8 Wetsuits, which began in 2016 as a custom-tailored
wetsuit business, brought Robb on board in July to tap into the
trademark good vibes that he’s made a staple. Think Catch Surf
escapades meets wetsuits. His first project: the business suit, of
course.
“The way that it all started off is that I literally saw a
suit and thought it would be pretty silly and pretty creative,”
said Kalani Robb. “I picked a picture out that I liked. I sent it
to Andrew at 7TILL8, and 24 hours later I had the suit.”
Is this a case of great minds colliding by coincidence?
Have you ever come up with a fantastic idea years after it was
already invented?
Is it a straight steal?
Does TheInertia have only a very short memory?
And who does it better? Quiksilver Japan in 2015 or 7Till8 in
2017?
We’re all part of the same tribe, as dear Kenny
Powers once said, and it is true. Sure we may bitch and moan and
complain about crowds, we may appear to actually hate each other
but deep deep deep deep deep deep deep down inside there is love.
We’re surfers. Brothers!
And a brother in Florida needs our help. Let us learn of his
plight.
A Florida surfer’s wife is asking beachgoers to be on the
lookout for her husband’s missing prosthetic eye.
Carolyn Pandolfi told WKMG her husband Raymond Davidson was
surfing at Daytona Beach Wednesday and wiped out when he
encountered choppy water. His prosthetic eye disappeared in the
ocean.
“It would be amazing to find it in the ocean,” Pandolfi
said.
Pandolfi said her husband had the prosthetic for 20 years.
“It is a hazel green color and looks like an Eye he was surfing in
front of the band shell,” she said. “These things are expensive so
if someone finds it can you please message me.”
Daytona beachgoers were sympathetic to their predicament.
One stranger was kind enough to start a GoFundMe account to cover
the cost of the eye. The goal is to raise $1,800.
According to WKMG, Davidson has an appointment with an eye
doctor on October 6.
Do you live in Florida? Can you help? I’m sure it won’t be too
difficult to find just one.
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Jon Pyzel and Matt Biolos by
@theneedforshutterspeed/Step Bros
