“A new day has dawned. Another opportunity to better myself as a person. And as a consumer.”
(Editor’s note: Following a proud history of surf anthropology as pioneered by Jen See in her Surfline Man series, here, here, here, here, here and here, today BeachGrit introduces Hurley Person.)
Hurley Person stirs from a dreamless sleep as the first wisps of light meander in through his bedroom window, dancing across the sheer white walls of his tastefully austere studio apartment.
The velvety beats of Moby begin to play through an unseen pair of Sonos speakers as Hurley Person blinks once, twice.
“A new day has dawned,” he thinks to himself as he wakes. “Another opportunity to better myself as a person. And as a consumer.”
Hurley Person cracks his neck as he sits up in bed, his hazel green eyes and coffee brown skin contrasting perfectly against the muted alabaster of his expensive linen sheets. The sheets, like every other product he owns, are of the highest quality, and made to last.
The only thing disposable in this household is Hurley Person’s income.
He runs his fingers through his fine brown beard.
“Siri,” he says as he stifles a yawn, “find me some engaging, inspiring and inclusive content to view this morning before I prepare for my busy day of work at the tech entrepreneur hub I recently founded that provides venture capital and mentoring to small and medium-sized enterprises dedicated to upskilling their corporate social integrity.”
“Yes, Hurley Person,” comes a smooth feminine voice as the last strains of Moby melt seamlessly away.
Hurley Person rises from bed and begins his morning stretches.
A $9,000 BenQu laser projector whirs from a hidden recess in the roof, and a series of blurred images play across the far white wall as Siri finetunes her algorithm.
“Siri, I’m feeling a little lonely today,” says Hurley Person. “Make it content related to a sport or pastime that could offer me a sense of belonging to a culture that aligns with my personal values of fitness, environmental awareness and social inclusiveness while also filling the existential void that sits at the base of my soul. Something that will remedy my pedestrian, sterile sheltered existence and the lack of any real personality or sense of human connection that has been a hallmark of my life.”
“Yes, Hurley Person.”
“Oh, and Siri,” …Hurley Person stops his stretching and looks off somewhere in the half distance… “Can you get a bit of T&A in there too? But don’t include that in my search history!”
He lets out an involuntarily feminine chuckle.
“Of course, Hurley Person.”
The miasma of blurred imagery being projected on his wall slows to a single, sickly frame. A beautiful, statuesque blonde woman in tight mountain biking gear stands in the middle of a back country trail.
“Matches found,” says Siri
“Mountain biking: do you want to go down, down down? “
“Hmm,” says Hurley Person. “It looks pretty cool, but I’m pretty sure Anan from marketing broke his shoulder mountain biking last year. Plus, I don’t appreciate the crass entendre. Next.”
Two women in Lycra and headgear appear, grappling each other in a loving embrace.
“MMA: you’ll never guess the strength of these two warrior princesses.”
“No thanks,” says Hurley Person. “Despite the health benefits I still find MMA… problematic. Next.”
For a moment, just before the next image displays on his wall, Hurley Person thinks he hears an almost audible sigh come from the speaker.
“Your third option.”
A beaming surfer girl appears, her athletic body hidden under the contours of her full length wetsuit as she rides over the curl of a blue wave.
“World Surf League presents Lawn Patrol with Carissa Moore: Follow world champion Carissa Moore as she takes us through her backyard and explores the heaven on earth that is the North Shore of Hawaii.”
“Surfing, huh?” says Hurley Person. “I’ve always wanted to be closer to nature, and those surfer guys I saw being arrested in South Beach that time had great muscle definition.”
A look of steeled determination creeps across Hurley Person’s face as he starts his rep of more intensive pilates stretches.
“Siri, let’s try it.”
A series of error noises bip from the speakers.
“Sorry Hurley Person, it is asking us to leave YouTube and visit an external page to view the video – www dot worldsurfleague dot com,” says Siri.
“Are these guys for real,” Hurley Person guffaws, “expecting me to leave a native video hosting platform and to view content on their own site? Have they not heard of UX?”
Hurley Person stares at the life-size image of Carissa on his bedroom wall. That beautiful smile. Those all-knowing eyes. She looks content. Happy. Like she belongs somewhere in this world.
“Whatever,” he says finally. “I’m sure it’s worth it. Take me to that place.”
For the next twenty minutes Hurley Person watches on enthralled, as Lawn Patrol melds into Sound Waves melds into Transformed melds into the latest video of Koa unboxing.
Each video speaks more and more to the sense of self constructed in his psyche by a lifetime of subconscious corporate conditioning.
“Wow, this WSL really feels like an organisation I align with,” Hurley Person says as the shows finally finish.
“Siri, please follow them on across all of their social media platforms and sign me up for any newsletters, competitions, or databases they have available. Be sure to include as much of my personal information as possible so that they can best tailor their marketing and communications to me.”
“Yes, Hurley Person.”
“Also,” Hurley Person says, “I want to make sure they can bundle up my personal data and demographic information to use as alongside all of the other WSL followers, my new friends, my new tribe, so that they can attract the investment of other big corporates that might like to advertise their products to us.
“Of course, Hurley Person.”
Hurley Person drops to the ground and begins doing push ups while Siri gets to work. He’s barely raised a sweat before she comes back online.
“You are now a certified member of the World Surf League,” Siri dutifully reports. “You should now receive notifications of their updated content via their social media platforms and a bespoke RSS feed I have specially created for you. I have also signed you up for an air BnB experience at their next major competition, likely run date June 2023.”
“Neat-o,” says Hurley Person.
Would you now like to buy some associated products?”
“Well of course I fucking do Siri. What sort of a stupid fucking question is that?”
A catalogue of items project against the wall.
Hurley man swipes through the album with the wave of a finger, the biosensors implanted in his fingertips tracking his excited heart rate as he considers each new product. Each new opportunity to belong.
“What’s this?” he asks as he pauses on one strange looking item.
“A Wavestorm Softboard. Perfect for learners and new starters looking to become waterpeople overnight.”
Hurley Person nods his head.
“But can I also suggest a *Siri’s voice immediately alters into a coarse, mechanical delivery, that sounds strangely Australian * J-S Monsta-Box? There are seven salespoints located within a ten-mile radius of your home.”
“Hmm, no thanks,” says Hurley Person. “I’ll go the softy”
“You will also need a rash vest,” says Siri in her more calming, feminine voice.
“Can I suggest the Carissa Moore x WSL signature series? Blue, with white arms.”
“Perfect.”
“You will also need a GoPro to capture all of your surfing adventures, as well as to record any collisions you may have in the water for future legal use. Can I suggest the GoPro 10 Hero?”
“Yep, says Hurley Person. “In fact, better get me two.”
“Finally, says Siri., you will need a…” Siri’s voice stops, as if she is taking a second herself to compute the next item. “A… beard softener.”
“Oh, word?” Hurley Person fingers his fine brown beard again.
“Siri, give me the best fucking beard softener there is.”
“Purchasing Hurley brand beard softener.”
A blue ‘verified’ tick appears on Hurley Person’s bedroom wall, just as the full light of the morning sun fills the room.
“Congratulations,” says Siri as the apartment explodes into a thousand brilliant shades of white.
“You are now a surfer. Next item for the day: What would you like me to order you for breakfast?”
“Hmmm,” says Hurley Person. “Now that’s a tough one.”
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what s T&A? thanks…
Jen See and Surfads, time to ask Chas to step up and pay you both for a colab to write a story about when Surfline man has a run in with Hurley man at southside Huntington, while US coach and all around good guy Brett Simpo watches on.
Were you listening in on my bedroom when I woke up at 5:45 this morning to go surf?
Oh wait, never mind, the only sound you would have heard was a dull fart as I threw on some sweatpants.
if only my existential void was so easily filled
Whatsa matter, don’t have enough money?
I dunno.
When I hear Hurley, I see basic white bread bottle-blonde dipsticks with the pajama legs and Ugg-boots, with a grey (it’s always grey) Hurley hoody, hands in front pocket. Waiting around for nothing in particular.
Oh yeah, the real Hurley consumer definitely hangs out the front of market town Coles.
Hurley Person is just who the brands/WSL imagine they’re targeting
we’re all fucked
The most fucked up thing is Hurley person (almost) exists in reality.
Very engaging. There must be a part 2 etc to Hurley person, where, amongst other things Hurley person brushes his hair and puts some product in it before he goes ‘surfing’. Actually maybe he doesn’t go surfing and just hangs on the beach with wavestorm in hand using go pro posing. A real surfer.
If it works for his beard, should work on the carefully manscaped pubes too.
And his silky armhair.
Yes! He’d definitely have silky arm movements too when going down the line, throwing those things around but thinking he has a super chill style. And the silky arm hair too, and pubes would only help streamline for speed runs.
Take my money Charlie. I laughed 5-8 times.
Remember when Bob Hurley told Rabbit that it was ok for him to come surf out the back at Huntington with the men and then Rabbit replied no thanks , I want to hang inside and surf with the kids because they are the future and keep me on my toes ….. and this inspired Bob and became his leitmotif for his work with Billabong and then with his own brand Hurley .
Surfing has changed so much recently , that I have a feeling this may have occurred in a parallel universe …… ?
and here I was thinking the WSL was going to face a significant challenge making itself relevant, after a year when surfing has grown quicker than maybe ever in History, completely without its help.
Thinking there’s now a lot of pretty stoked newbies who have no idea professional surfing exists and may have to be convinced to give a shit about it.
Yea, it’s nice to think that the core guys like surfboard manufacturers kept their jobs. Everything seems in it’s place.
It amazingly does eh.
Musta accidentally hit send.
Neat-o
Surely Hurley person is going to have some kind of Laird Hamilton superfood for breakfast? Obviously followed by a bullet proof coffee.
Well, I have to report that I re-purposed the Hurley mud pack and applied it to just below the high tide mark if you catch my drift.
What was something akin to a battered and much abused rusty old trawler is now a sleek and streamlined watercraft with polished twin outriggers situated aft. YMMV
Astro …..Take your pocket rocket out of cotton wool …… time to shoot ….. for the stars .
Hurley Person and Julian Wilson have soooo much in common.
Ummm, in my Southern Cal. sojourn, I’ve seen a lot of people surfing, but, something just doesn’t feel right about it.
I recall a lot of non-surfers wearing slikquiver and pullabong gear in the ’80’s…
A whole lot. You would see Dads and Moms and even Grandma sporting surf tees, you could just tell they never surfed, it was embarrassing.
Lotta non MMA fighters wearing tap out shit too. At least, their beer guts tell me they wouldn’t make 3 seconds swinging a punch let alone 5x3min rounds. Good to know!
Sold the dream …. you are not a surfer but you can buy into the subculture by purchasing a $5 tshirt for $60 …… Almost a religious experience …. the more you sacrifice , the more you justify and reinforce your belief in the inter subjective entity “surfing is cool “ that the industry is still peddling today …. with much less success with T-shirts , but much more with actually experiencing surfing on an oversized beginner board .
as a young lad, our auntie lived in Irvine, and would send us birthday and xmas gifts. She is/was my moms best friend and we had never met her. We would open the gifts (which she still sends to my littles to this day as she is the nicest fucking woman on the planet) and they would be Op Cotton Sweaters and Gotcha T’s and all the like.. We would laugh hysterically with their fluorescent colors and Cali surfer boy themes. We would never dare wear such things to only be laughed at in school. (to you young ones, the world was different, each area of every country held true to its own style, it wasn’t a homogenized toilet bowl that it is today.)
It is better to give than receive ….. Jeez if only you could have wrote her a letter telling her you loved the clothes , but next year , could you possibly find something very similar in HARD CORE EAST COAST BLACK !
Even in the 80s in Sydney , when the whole world turned Dayglo , I would wear the fluoro wetsuit at home but had a black stealth number for secret raids on happy places like Maroubra and Nth Narrabeen .
I had a wonderful Aunty who called me Jamie ( I hated it and revolted at 5 letting one and all know that it was James and only James , not Jamie , Jim , little Jimmy and that I would refuse to answer to anything else ) since the day I was born …. but she was so sweet , I let her continue until the day she died .
haha!!.. I love hearing the truth about times past, what we were really thinking.. mom made us do our thank you notes every time we received a present, now we call or email/text.. so personal… It was hilarious, you would keep that dayglo shit in your closet for a year then toss it or turn it into a rag for the bike chain. If only us dumb cunts back east knew how many ladies the bleached blonde/dayglo guys were scoring out west.
I’ve always fvcked chics, so I don’t know what this actually means. Sounds gay.
Hurley person and I wouldn’t get along at all. Crass entendres, I live for them!!!