Come at me.
We live in the future, almost ten years past the future in fact, for who can forget when one Marty McFly traveled to 2015, in 1985, and witnessed a world full of wonders? Skateboards that hovered on air, shoes that tied themselves, little baby Pizza Hut pizzas that expanded to full-size Pizza Hut pizzas when placed in special microwaves and, best, jackets that could dry themselves and maybe inflate.
Alas, our future is a little bleaker than Hill Valley’s though we do have jackets that puff right up and they are worn by our hard-charging big wave surfers. But can I be honest with you for one moment? I find big wave surf protection hideously ugly. The business was brought to a head, for me, during the just-passed Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational. The action thrilled, no doubt, our heroes and heroines putting on a historic show and yet I couldn’t get past their bulging back bladders, giant chest bladders and hip pads that extend far beyond anything worn by National Football League players.
Now, I completely understand the adornment at waves like Jaws or Nazare. Mutants that not even McFly would dare paddle even if called a chicken. But Waimea? The Edward, himself, paddled those beasts basically nude. An extremely rude take, no doubt, and coming from a surf journalist who feels a shiver up the spine when playful North County San Diego reaches heights of 4 – 6ft.
But facts are facts.
Ross Clarke-Jones, it must be noted, went without the pillows, almost lost his hand, hacked a dark and drank a beer while the aforementioned appendage was being re-attached.
Do you have thoughts?
David Lee Scales and I discussed, anyhow, during one of our weekly chats and also continued an important delve into clock milking.
Essential.