Podcast: “Don’t judge my cancer!”

The mark of a life spent on the water. Or maybe questionable sartorial decisions.

I was diagnosed with cancer last week but that surf sort of cancer. The basal cell carcinoma sort that gets cut right out of the skin no muss no fuss. Surfer magazine’s Grant Ellis first identified it for me. I saw the laconic South African at Surf Ranch and he had a neat row of stitches on his forehead. I asked him why and he told me, “Cancer.” I asked how he knew it was cancer and he quickly described the symptoms.

“I’ve got one of those on my chest here.” I said, pointing. to a red spot near my sternum.

“Yah.” He responded. “Go get that checked out.”

I did and he was right.

Cancer.

Cancer right above where I insist on unbuttoning my button-up shirts all rakish and suggestive. Cancer right below where a normal t-shirt’s neckline would cover. I don’t own any “normal” t-shirts, and refuse the top four buttons any pleasure. In this way, I suppose, I have fashion cancer but it mirrors surf cancer and how many of these have you had cut out of you? Three? Seven?

I feel badly that it took me this many years to get one. Like pterygiums, surf cancer is the mark of a life spent in the water. It cannot be faked nor can it be purchased. It is not a World Surf League Gabriel Medina jersey.

Oh I know surf cancer and fashion cancer, for that matter, are not real cancers and shouldn’t even be brought up in the same breath but I do bring them up in the same breath on the latest edition of The Grit, my bi-weekly conversation with David Lee Scales. We also chat about Olympic surfing, the future of aerial maneuvers and how to game the system. You can go here to see a visual guide or sit back and listen below.