"Where did we go wrong?"

Heartache is currently ripping through every house that a surf journalist calls home. Brothers Sam and Matt George Skyping, earnestly questioning the value of their divine drippings. Sean Doherty slamming his head against his Michael Peterson shrine. Nick Carroll telling his brother Tom that he wishes he was never born.

Much despair.

Yes, what was once a vaguely passable occupation has devolved into an embarrassing horror. A blighted landscape bathed with the flickering glow of Surfer magazine’s AI powered masthead. Where did we all go wrong? What could we have done differently?

It starts and ends in Nashville, as it turns out.

Taylor Swift Rules Everything

Newspapers, which have been busily firing people for decades now, have flipped a U-turn and are hiring again. Not surf journalists or political hacks or foreign correspondents, no, but dedicated Taylor Swift reporters.

Gannett, the largest newspaper chain in the country, announced it was desperately seeking a cub to solely discuss the most popular woman on the planet two months ago. After hundreds of applications, Bryan West from Phoenix, Arizona was pegged.

“I would say this position’s no different than being a sports journalist who’s a fan of the home team,” West told Variety. “I just came from Phoenix, and all of the anchors there were wearing Diamondbacks gear; they want the Diamondbacks to win. I’m just a fan of Taylor Swift and I have followed her her whole career, but I also have that journalistic background: going to Northwestern, winning awards, working in newsrooms across the nation. I think that’s the fun of this job is that, yeah, you can talk Easter eggs, but it really is more of the seriousness, like the impact that she has on society and business and music.”

He believes that the “biggest moment of contention” is going to be Taylor Swift’s “hidden vault songs.”

What do you think it will be?

More importantly, how would Sam George cover Taylor Swift?

Exciting to ponder.

"What was once exotic and had to be earned has now become a playground for thrill-seekers, many of them wealthy..."

This world, man. Ever more a tale of two distinct classes. The haves and the have nots. Those who struggle to make the car payment on aged Toyota Tundras and those who enjoy the comforts of the Aston Martin Valour. Now, in times past the uber-rich were happy to stay in their exclusive enclaves and do their exclusive things. Summering on Lake Como, for example, and taking the Alpha Zs across to the Clooneys for luncheon. Post-Covid, though, things have changed.

Billionaires like Mark Zuckerberg and Jeff Bezos, who came into their wealth through nerdy means, lack taste entirely. That vacuum is filled with all manner of lower-brow endeavors that should not interest them. Fighting mixed martial arts. Pumping weights. And, according to a terrifying new report, surfing big waves.

Nazaré Gets Kooked

Yes, a reporter from luxury publication Forbes just spent time in the Portuguese hamlet with big wave star Justine DuPont and her husband/sled-driver Fred David.

He was in town to ride on the ski and get a peek at the “huge swells barreling” but excess wind derailed that plan and so the trio merely explored Garrett McNamara’s beautiful baby.

Metaphorically.

While wandering and sipping various chocolate milks, the writer bemoaned:

As for surf purism, big money comes in now from amateur fat-cats from all over the world wanting to “tow in” say, to one big wave, take the accompanying trophy photo and then head home to brag about it. Unfortunately, it’s part of the current trend of tourists paying exorbitant sums to “experience” adventure. What was once exotic and had to be earned has now become a playground for thrill-seekers, many of them wealthy, and now, unfortunately, Nazare is beginning to feel that surge.

Bleak.

While DuPont and David took the bad with the good, happy that local businesses were benefitting, I think we should do a better job of shaming the “wealthy thrill-seekers.”

And those who help facilitate their “experiences.”

Kai Lenny.

The culture wars come to surf.

Justin Timberlake sure has been copping one, these days. The once-universally adored singer has been marched into the public square and torn limb from limb. It started with Britney Spears releasing her new memoir The Woman in Me. It was an instant best-seller and led to much discussion on Timberlake then much piling on.

The two former Mouseketeers famously began dating when she was seventeen, he eighteen and both on the ascent. She singing instant classics like Hit Me Baby, One More Time. He as one fifth of boy band sensation NSYNC.

It was a fairytale romance, on the surface, adorned in denim though in hindsight apparently not perfect.

Cheating on both sides plus a pregnancy terminated early.

Timberlake eventually ending it all via text.

The big un-chill.

Though nobody seemed to care at the time.

Now, though, knives are out for the SexyBack singer and mostly for his adoption of a “blaccent” or “black accent” sometime in the aughts. He was hammered hard for it, though the tide may be turning back in his favor. Songwriter/Bravolebrity Kandi Burruss recently swung to his defense, telling Page Six, “I just feel like that was young Justin. Leave him alone, y’all. He was a really, really good guy.”

For surfers, the whole imbroglio has ripped the scab off the long-festering “Spicolocution” debate.

Justin Timberlake and the Surf Vernacular

But you are certainly aware of the decades-long depiction of surfers speaking a certain Southern California patois. Keanu Reeves, Sean Penn, Erik Logan bro brah broing to camera. While inoffensive in the Golden State, surfers from New Jersey, Australia’s Gold Coast, Brazil’s Saquarema always recoiled at the depiction.

#NotMeToo.

And reasonable though Hollywood is a machine but also a machine that doesn’t have rearview mirrors.

How then do “surfers” speak?

For my money, like Filipe Toledo.

But, while you are here, did I ever tell you about the time I had brunch with Justin Timberlake in New York? It was lovely and he seemed very kind. We drank coffee, if I recall, though someone might have ordered a mimosa.

No blaccent detected.

Kelly Slater once dated a Justin Timberlake ex.

Happier times.