"Tastes like free coleslaw alongside a fried shrimp po' boy and..... a hint of heroism."
"Tastes like free coleslaw alongside a fried shrimp po' boy and..... a hint of heroism."

Hero: Cardiff-by-the-Sea boy rushes headlong through raging house fire in order to save Bruce Lee’s “Enter the Dragon” screenwriter!

Made not born... or wait. Is it the other way around?

BeachGrit has truly become the home of heroic. I am so against alliteration, bristling every time master shaper Matt Biolos posts an Instagram message, but don’t know how to swap either “home” or “heroic” out as that’s what we are.

Did you already forget the Filipino surfer who forewent a gold medal to save a fellow competitor? The Florida surfer riding a storm who saved an entire boat? The other Florida surfer who was chomped by a shark and instead of going to a hospital treated himself to a bar?

Well, welcome Aidan Cohen into their ranks, a local Cardiff-by-the-Sea boy who saved the screenwriter of Bruce Lee’s greatest (only?) film and very good friends with my older daughter. How many times can you count yourself personally acquainted with a legend? How many fried shrimp po’ boys has a legend served you at Fish 101 with free coleslaw?

But let’s read his harrowing tale together first, before getting to your answers.

Author and screenwriter Michael Allin, known for writing the classic Bruce Lee film “Enter the Dragon,” was rescued from his burning Cardiff home late Thursday night by two teenage neighbors.

“It got close there for a second,” said 17-year-old Aidan Cohen, who lives next door to Allin.

At around 11 p.m. Thursday, Aidan and his 19-year-old brother Ryan Cohen were sitting in their home eating late-night snacks of cereal and ice cream.

But their meal was interrupted when the power suddenly went off in their home. The two heard an explosion and rushed outside to see their neighbor’s house on fire.

They instinctively began shouting: “Michael! Michael!”

“We’ve known him forever. He’s lived there all our lives … Our first instinct was to scream his name,” Cohen said.

The boys ran to the back of the home and heard a disoriented Allin from inside.

“I told [Aidan], ‘Please don’t, please don’t.’ Aidan ran, pushed the door open and Aidan ran into his house and dragged him out and literally saved his life,” Ryan said.

While his house looked hollowed and badly charred Friday morning, Allin suffered only scratches and bruises.

You must finish the wild ride on your own time but back to my questions.

1) How many heroes are friends with your daughter?

2) How many of them have given you free coleslaw (with or without a fried shrimp po’ boy)?

While you’re thinking, raise a non-alcoholic beverage to Aidan Cohen and another to Bruce Lee.

Joined forever in Valhalla.

Forever heroes.

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Run don't walk! A diamond may be forever but these prices won't last!
Run don't walk! A diamond may be forever but these prices won't last!

Opportunity: Russia seeks to end ban on “Blood Diamonds” sending hordes of “thrifty” surfers in longterm relationships to mall-based jewelry stores!

Strike while the iron's hot!

Surfers are known for very many things, being stupid, being dumb, being cheap, but in my experience none of these stereotypes are true. We are elevated, able to think through myriad complexities with clarity. Able to problem solve etc. and also prioritize.  Yes, none of these stereotypes are true except for surfers being cheap, though “thrifty” is a much better descriptive adjective.

The surfer has many important things on which to spend her or his money included but not limited to wax, Futures Fins, BeachGrit outerwear (buy here) and wetsuits. He, therefore, must economize. She must pinch pennies when there are pennies to be pinched.

And recent news coming out of Russia and Africa is very welcoming to the thrifty surfer in a longterm relationship.

A possible end to the ban on “Blood Diamonds.”

As you well know, the traditional diamond engagement ring is supposed to be worth three months of salary. That is a small-ish diamond and especially for surfers employed by the surf industry where a fifteen year apocalypse rages even through the greatest economic run in modern history. Many layoffs. Much depressed wages.

In any case, Russia and Africa are seeking to solve this problem and let us turn to Bloomberg for the very latest.

Russia is proposing to move toward ending the ban on selling so-called blood diamonds from the Central African Republic, a former French colony that’s struck recent military and commercial ties with Moscow, amid resistance from the U.S. and Europe.

The CAR, which is mired in civil conflict, should be granted a “road map” outlining the steps it needs to take to get the suspension of diamond sales lifted, Russian Deputy Finance Minister Alexei Moiseev said in an interview in Moscow.

“We need to ensure that illicitly traded diamonds move to the legal marketplace, bringing income for people and taxes for the state,” Moiseev said. “The situation in CAR isn’t getting any better, and we can’t delay this any more.”

Russia’s pressing for action as President Vladimir Putin seeks to challenge the U.S. and other major powers in a new push to restore Soviet-era influence in the resource-rich African continent. He hosted more than 50 African leaders in the first Russia-Africa summit in October and his ally Yevgeny Prigozhin’s mercenary venture is active in about a dozen countries, including the CAR.

So, are you in a longterm relationship? Is a ring expected soon, maybe even this holiday season? Aeroflot flies non-stop from LAX. I have flown many times and cannot recommend highly enough.

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First wave, day one. Butchered, of course. | Photo: URBNSURF/Jarrah Lynch

Report: Mysteries revealed, weaknesses exposed after ten hours and 150 waves in Melbourne tank!

Can a kook finally reach nirvana if given enough pool time?

I’m an intermediate surfer, lower intermediate for the sake of precision, and will never be anything more.

This isn’t a new revelation.

It’s a truth the has been demonstrated to me at various times and at various places, Cloudbreak Teahupoo, Ours and, twice last week, at Australia’s first commercial wave pool, which can be found just a mile-and-a-half from Melbourne’s international airport.

On Monday, I enjoyed Urbnsurf’s hospitality from one through til six as part of a media reveal. The catering was excellent, Cliff bars, Poke bowls, spring water in plastic bottles, beer and coffee from an on-site van. I discovered the CEO of Urbnsurf, Andrew Ross, and I grew up, in the same era, lived roughly one mile apart and attended neighbouring schools. Eerie.

Waves were, mostly, a three-foot ledge called The Beast, although there were waves in some sessions where turns could be employed. It was very hot, one hundred degrees Fahrenheit, the wind was a northerly offshore and I surfed, first, in trunks, but was soon forced to dress in a short-sleeved steamer as the water was cold. With fourteen surfers in the water and eight-wave sets every two minutes only one wave was caught every four minutes. There was no paddling in between to keep heart-rate up, body warm. An estimated fifty waves snatched.

One head injury was sustained. Stu Nettle, a very good surfer and editor of the Australian surf forecast site swellnet.com, was sucked up the face of a lefthand tube and into the concrete bottom when a layback went awry.

That same week, on the Friday, I joined the party of an old friend who had hired the joint from nine am until eight pm, although the pool was switched off at seven, much to the chagrin of the two surfers left out the back and who were forced to paddle in.

I spent seven hours or thereabouts in the water and caught, at a conservative estimate, one hundred waves. It was cold (eighteen degrees C or sixty-four F) and the wind blew onshore from the south. A four-three was the suit of choice although my Rip Curl 3/2 sufficed. Over the course of the ten hours the pool was open, I sustained myself by taking hot showers and eating handfuls of the protein balls supplied.

One head injury was sustained. David McArthur, a very good surfer and newspaper cartoonist, was sucked up the face of a righthand tube and into the concrete bottom. The way he staggered out of the pool suggested a mild concussion was also included in the deal.

What did I learn from the experience of two days, of one hundred and fifty waves under my feet? That I suck. Yes, that, but that is hardly news.

I learned that all those elements that I can disguise in the surf, the indecisive takeoff, the mistimed turns, the habit of staying ahead of the pocket, the back foot refusing the plastic of my tail-pad are magnified ten-fold in the pool.

And, yet.

Ah, yes, there’s a yet.

It is only through the reveal of our flaws that we can improve.

What good is it to tell a child he’s clever if he’s stupid?

Or a painter that she has something unique when her work is derivative and poorly drawn?

I find my best moments when I’m overtaken by an anger at the repetition of my mistakes and the slap in the face of being reminded of my inability to surf. Usually, I’l rectify on a wave, get my back foot on the tail-pad, actually locate and hit the lip, then go in, mission complete although new approach not ingrained in muscle memory.

At the pool, I was there for an extended period – what was I going to do, sit and watch? – and there was no escape from the truth.

In the Monday session, I couldn’t understand why I was missing the tube. I sent an email to the professional big-wave surfer Mark Mathews who, perversely I suppose, has been to the pool five times. He told me to forget turns, stomp on the tail on the take off, sit in the one allowable groove, and you’ll be caved from ass to mouth, as they say.

Even if it sounds straightforward enough, it took me all of day two to understand what he meant and to…see…the groove. It was only on the last wave of the day, at one minute to seven, I completed a ride satisfactorily.

Backside, less successful, although I’m starting to see the line on that side, too.

I won’t bother you with my philosophical take on pools or whether you should spend eighty Australian dollars on a one-hour visit there, that’s up to you.

What it gave me was a reminder of my frailties and an extended period to, finally, address these multiple errors.

I’m back, I believe, next Thursday.

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Paige Alms, winner of $20,000. $80,000 less than her short wave brothers and sisters.
Paige Alms, winner of $20,000. $80,000 less than her short wave brothers and sisters.

Opinion: “The World Surf League’s bald-faced hypocrisy regarding ‘equality’ mocks the dreams of Martin Luther King Jr., Thomas Paine, Susan B. Anthony etc!”

Disgusting.

Oh how Santa Monica pounded its chest in announcing that its World Surf League was the world’s first, first, sporting organizational body to provide equal pay for both men and women. That it represented the largest civil rights shift since Russia freed her serfs. But do you not remember? Do you not recall the breathless press release? Let’s practice retroactive journalism together here and now.

The World Surf League (WSL) today announced that it will award equal prize money to male and female athletes for every WSL-controlled event in the 2019 season and beyond, becoming the first and only US based global sports league, and among the first internationally, to achieve prize money equality. The WSL is proud of its commitment to gender equality, and proud to join other organizations beyond the world of sport reaching this important milestone.

Of course the WSL’s public relations busy bees, trapped in reclaimed cubicles, slaving under the ominous glare of Erik “ELo” Logan’s pearly whites, pushed the narrative out to the mainstream media.

Equal.

Equal.

First in equal.

Except it’s all a damned lie. An absolutely egregious display of bald-faced hypocrisy not seen since… since… Mark Zuckerberg.

For how much did our big wave brother and sister make after surfing heart-stopping Jaws?

$20,000.

And how much does the winner of every Championship Tour surfer make?

$100,000.

This discrepancy sickens me as it should sicken you.

#EqualityForWaveSize

No?

Obviously yes, troglodyte.

Shame.

Shame.

Shame.

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National Weather Service declares: Extremely dangerous “two-story” waves arrive in Bay Area!

An important discussion regarding big waves and their measurement.

Our Hawaiian brothers and sisters, God bless each and every one, pioneered the absolutely confounding “back of the wave” measurement scale. Our Australian wave plunger brothers and sisters, God bless them slightly less, pioneered a miraculous 8 foot measurement using bodyboarders as perspective. But, I feel, as both an artist and Caucasian male, that the mainstream media delivers the most compelling system, measuring waves using “storeys” of buildings/houses.

Headlines began screaming, a few days ago, that “two-story” surf was headed to the Bay Area and let’s read before discussing.

The National Weather Service has issued a high surf advisory as a brewing storm in the Gulf of Alaska is expected to deliver waves up to 22 feet tall to Northern California beaches.

“The high winds associated with that storm are generating the swell that should get there by Thursday,” said Spencer Tangen, a forecaster with the NWS office in Monterey.

In effect 3 p.m. Thursday through 3 a.m. Saturday, the advisory warns of strong rip currents, beach erosion and large waves running far up beaches and washing over large rocks and jetties.

“Use extra caution near the surf zone as these large waves will be capable of sweeping people into the frigid and turbulent ocean water,” warns the Weather Service. “Cold water shock may cause cardiac arrest, and it also can cause an involuntary gasp reflex causing drowning, even for a good swimmer.”

So, quickly, can our San Fransisco adjacent sisters and brothers first let us know that they’re ok? No cold water born cardiac arrests? Gasp reflexed drowning?

And now, “storeys” for waves. Are with me? Best way to measure them? I feel it combines the smoke throw of the Hawaiian system with the nonsense of the plunger system. Who amongst us hasn’t jumped from a second story into a swimming pool?

We’re all big wave surfers!

But also should be employed more broadly. “I just surfed some pretty fun wainscotting this morning…” etc.

No?

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