“Shady or, at the very least, very confusing."

“Being sold a bill of goods” is one of my very favorite aphorisms. Have you heard? Used yourself? I won’t get into the linguistically gorgeous joys but, basically, it means “swindled.”

Have you ever been? Ever not read the fine print or bought a new car off the lot?

Well, you will certainly understand the outrage surrounding the “Bucket List Family” made famous for throwing their very young children into a shark cage with regulators that didn’t fit their tiny, little mouths.

And over the just-passed holidays, the Bucket Lists offered their fans some too-good-to-be-true giveaway that turned out to be just that, thus coming under much anger. Shall we read from once-important BuzzFeed? Of course!

This week, angry fans said they felt duped by a popular Instagram account that did not make clear the full details about a massive annual giveaway for free trips around the world. Some people even argued that the lapse in disclosure allowed the family’s account to rack up a lot more engagement and followers.

What we know so far is thanks largely to a lawyer named Paige Griffith, from Montana, who spent her holidays digging and posting about the debacle to her Instagram stories. More from her later.

The Gee family, more ubiquitously known as the Bucket List Family by their more than 2.4 million Instagram followers, are five self-proclaimed nomads who travel the world for content. This lifestyle was possible after dad Garrett Gee reportedly sold his app to Snapchat for $54 million in 2015. You love to hate to be envious to see it.

Each year, parents Garrett and Jessica host a huge giveaway series they call “12 Days of Bucket List Christmas.” The idea is that for 12 days at the end of the year, they surprise “families in need with a gift that means so much to [their] own family: the gift of travel,” Jessica told me. This year’s destinations include Tanzania, Hawaii, Fiji, Disney World in Orlando, and more. It’s a huge, commendable idea, and fans get excited about it every year.

This year, however, the family’s latest posts about their giveaways have been flooded with comments from frustrated fans who say the whole thing was carried out in a way they felt was “shady” or, at the very least, very confusing.

And that’s all I need. Fans of the Bucket Lists who felt “duped.”

What a crock and I’m busily planning a shark diving trip with my daughter. Sure she’s six, no longer five, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Families that look thusly while riding a bunch of hideous mid-lengths…

…are up to something and I’ll get to the bottom of it shortly.

More as the story develops.

Real insight: This kook don't know.

I do everything here for you, you know that right? Everything. Oh you think all the shark business, all the horrifying tales from our modern and current shark apocalypse is due some weird personal kink?

Yes.

But also and mostly they are also my counter to the World Surf League’s Wall of Positive Noise, to Kelly Slater’s Surf Ranch, to Fake Hurley now selling beard oil to Des Moines, Iowa farmers who hope, dream of one day, of absorbing surfing right into their pores.

No.

Surfing is for us and only us. Like Gotcha’s wonderful founder Michael Tomson once boldly declared, “If you don’t surf, don’t start.”

But how is the World Surf League going to make money if nobody starts? How will Kelly Slater or Fake Hurley?

And so they all crow about about how amazing, how spiritual our Pastime of Kings is while I scream, “Beware! There’s a Great White circling your pale legs!”

In any case, as you may or may not know, I grew up surfing the cold hell of Oregon. The miserable cold rip-tidy, sharky hell and that’s what it truly is but today I stumbled upon a piece in The Oregonian that began thusly:

I’m a mountain guy. A lover of lakes. A backpacker, climber and skier.

As such, few of my adventures pull me toward the beautiful Oregon coast.

But I defied that tendency a few months back, heading west in search of a new thrill: surfing.

Cold hell. Messy hell. Horrible hell. Welcome to hell, now you’re in hell (buy here).

But the journalist-cum-VAL decided to lie and write:

My day started at a surf shop in Seaside, where I met up with surf instructor Lauren Ahlgren and got outfitted with a rental wetsuit.

We then headed south down the coast, passing Cannon Beach and parking our rigs just off the highway at Oswald West State Park, home to the popular Short Sand Beach.

We hiked for a half-mile, hauling our unwieldy boards, and emerged at the beach before too long.

It was, in a word, sublime.

The beach, which is known as Short Sands or Shorty’s, sits in a stunning cove framed by volcanic basalt and sandstone cliffs.

There’s no highway noise. No concession stands. Just classic Oregon coast vibes.

I believe he means “classic Oregon coast vibes” as a positive but take it from one who grew up there.

It’s a meth.

One big giant meth plus the surf sucks too.

And I’m going to hunt down this lover of lakes, this backpacker, climber, skier and teach him a proper lesson. I’m going to take him for a surf around Coos Bay, a bowl of Mo’s clam chowder in Florence then… Well, you’ll just have to stay tuned.

More as the story develops.

From the mouth of babes!

And what has Greta Thunberg taught us all this past year? Yes. That adults are uninspired, selfish, greedy, destructive, uncaring, bloated, hideous, wastes of air. That we can’t get anything done, can’t even save ourselves from catastrophic climate change much less hold a surf contest not even thirty minutes from metropolis San Francisco at California’s premier big wave spot not even if a co-Waterperson of the Year, who happens to be a billionaire, owns all of professional surfing.

But…

…out of the mouth of babes etc.

The children are our future and a child-adjacent co-ed who attends Georgetown University is on the verge of reviving Mavericks but we must not waste anymore time self-loathing. We must head to The Mercury News directly for more.

The World Surf League, surfing’s version of the NBA or NFL, failed to bring a big-wave contest to Mavericks, the renowned break near Half Moon Bay.

But a Georgetown University senior and San Mateo coast native — who doesn’t even surf — is inching closer to resurrecting it in time for an event this winter.

“I’m not very athletic,” said Elizabeth Cresson, the 21-year-old who is spearheading the effort. “We’re connected to the ocean, and it’s something I care a lot about from a conservation and athletic standpoint. Mavericks has always been top of mind.”

Top of mind for the potential invited surfers: proof that this isn’t just another narwhal-like proposal they’ve become so accustomed to since the contest began as the Men Who Ride Mountains in 1999 and has only been contested 10 times in the two decades since.

“I’m not holding my breath for anything until things become a little more solidified where athletes see invites and we see who the title sponsor is,” said Tyler Fox, a Santa Cruz surfer who finished fourth in 2016, the last year the contest was held.

Potential competitors do not know much about the plan that is being spearheaded by Cresson, a Half Moon Bay native who grew up in Hillsborough.

Cresson stepped in to try to fill a void after World Surf League officials announced in August the end of the Big Wave Tour that was supposed to include Mavericks this season.

“We are planning on doing this full-throttle, making it exciting and as impactful as it can be,” Cresson said.

The piece goes on, inspiring, detailing how our brave heroine has secured the permits, $50,000 and the dreams of weary professional surf fans exhausted by an unscalable Positive Wall of Noise.

Bravo, Elizabeth Cresson. Come be CEO of BeachGrit next.