I See Wet People

I was sitting on my board at Manhattan Beach Saturday morning looking out at the ocean and watching for the next good swell when I saw a fin emerge from the water about 40 feet away from me. Then another, then another, then another. There must have been six or eight of them slowly surfacing and searching for food, and those of us closest to the dolphins started pointing and swimming a little closer. This older, white-haired guy on an enormous long board and I were chatting about them when a younger guy swam up between us and nervously asked, "How can you guys tell those are dolphins?"

"Because they're travelling in a pack," the older guy responded. "Dolphins are a good sign. You'd never see dolphins if a shark was around." I would think anyone who's seen a dolphin and a shark could tell the difference, but I guess when you're in the water you want to be 100% sure.

Anyway, the scariest part of surfing isn't necessarily what's in the water. Afterwards, I rinse out my wet suit and hang it in the shower to dry, and when you forget it's there and walk in on it suddenly, it kind of looks like a man standing quietly in the shower, which would be a lot more frikkin' disturbing than a shark. This is especially true in the middle of the night, when the house is dark and you're half-asleep. I've been awoken more than a few times by Janet's scream when she's wandered into the bathroom in the dark of the night to see this:

Surfing for Dummies

I bought a surfboard about a month ago and have been going out every weekend since, splitting my time between Manhattan Beach (El Porto, to be precise) and Bolsa Chica, two great beginner spots. I bought my board from Rocker Board Shop on Venice Blvd. The people at Rocker were extremely positive and helpful to me as a beginner and not super intimidating like some of the other shops I'd browsed in before. I ended up settling on a 7'8" funboard shaped by Guy Okazaki in Venice.



Manhattan Beach is a small coastal town just 15 minutes South on the 405, and El Porto is a small stretch of beach with a coin-metered parking lot that usually fills up by noon. The line-up can get pretty crowded, but it's a known beginner break and I haven't encountered any territorial attitude. I end up going here a lot because it's so close and easy. There are also good running and biking trails extending up and down the beach where Janet likes to run while I'm in the water.

Bolsa Chica is a state park a little further South on the 405, and a $10 entry fee gets you a day pass to miles of beach with ample parking, hot showers and a small cafe. Bolsa Chica usually attracts more families and campers on the weekends, so even when the parking lot is crowded, the line-up in the surf is still pretty laid back.

It's been interesting seeing how different the waves can be from place to place and from one week to the next. Manhattan Beach is usually pretty choppy, with waves coming in from both the NW and SW that result in quick close-outs. Last weekend the waves in Bolsa Chica were like slow softball pitches, evenly-spaced, waist-high waves that peeled perfectly to one side.

I'm not quite to the point where meteorology plays a role in whether I go out or not — waves are waves — but I check the surf reports on Surfline and WaveWatch just to get into the spirit. Oh yeah, I caught Point Break on cable the other night, too. If you want the ultimate, you've got to be willing to pay the ultimate price.

Summer Fridays

Before moving to Los Angeles, I had never heard of the concept of "Summer Fridays," but when Janet & I got jobs out here, those two innocuous little words popped up in the HR documentation from both of our respective employers. Summer Fridays are apparently very common in the advertising & creative industries in LA & NY, and are described as such:

In the summer weeks between Memorial Day and Labor Day, employees are free to leave the office on Fridays at 2 p.m. (or 1 p.m. in Janet's case), provided they don't have any urgent outstanding work issues.

Of course, these hours are probably made up elsewhere by late night product launches and weekend advertising "emergencies," but it's pretty amazing that employers recognize the immeasurable morale benefit in freeing the drones to enjoy a sunny Friday afternoon drinking beer on a patio somewhere instead of cleaning out their email and re-reading old blog posts in the dim fluorescent flicker of the cubicle farm. That's the way the world is supposed to work. Yeah.

Race Report: San Diego Rock'n'Roll Marathon 2008

Janet & Judy ran the San Diego Rock'n'Roll Marathon this past weekend along with 25,000 other runners, and the weather couldn't have been nicer — low 60s with a marine layer blocking the sun for the first half of the race. When the sun did eventually come out and burn off the cloud covering, there were more than a few running Elvises that had to be regretting the decision to run 26 miles in wigs & polyester pant suits.

Judy's boyfriend Felipe and I played support team, dropping the girls off near the start and catching up with them along the route to heckle and keep their minds off all the terrible bands that were supposed to keep their minds off the running. We also surprised them at notorious mile 20 (where most runners hit "the wall" in a marathon) by joining them for three miles. Afterwards Felipe was pretty proud to point out that we'd just run "the hardest part" of the marathon.

This was Janet's fourth marathon and Judy's first, so congrats to both on the finish!