Point Break

Okay, so I've never really been a sporty guy.  I do like hot dogs while watching live baseball, but that's just cause I'm gay, right?  Totally without a bun.  Too many carbs.

So here I am or there I was with two of my best gays at the time, in Hawaii, having the most relaxing time of our lives chasing the afternoon sunny on the rainy island of Kauai.  We literally were chasing the sun.  In the morning the southern point of the island would be bright sunshine and then bam, a storm would hit and we'd venture north where it was burning with heat.  I had never chased the sun before, and I thought it was heaven in a yellow jeep with no doors. (Originally the rental car company gave us a moderately sized compact corporate snooze mobile, and thanks to my fabulously forthright and go-getter Aaron Z., upon my return from visiting an old High School chum on Maui, I saw the yellow jeep of my safari dreams sitting at the arrival terminal.  It was the most perfect touch, the perfect detail.  Thank you, Aaron.  I don't know how many Enterprise employees you had to yell, whine, or taunt to make that happen, but it spoke ions to me.  That is friendship encapsulated into the jeep form.  

So feeling the fever of being engulfed in nature in all it's Hawaiian glory, we all three decided to jump on these long boards and try, and to top it off a local would snap our pictures and it will be just like the time I rode the Rattler at the amusement park in San Antonio in the 8th grade:  except hopefully in the shot the look I give will scream more enjoyment rather than... well, you know, just screams.

Number 1:  Surfing is fucking hard.
Number 2:  Aaron Z's pictures still make me wet myself a little.   I haven't physically seen one since days after the trip, but basically he looks like a constipated blow fish.  (Aaron if you would please email me one, I will be able to die happy.)  
Number 3:  I did it.  I rose to the occasion.  I didn't let fear rule my world.  I didn't anticipate not being able to do it.  I didn't fall.  I just started to shake.  Then I started to stabilize.  Then my feet gripped the waxy board and I glided into the shallow waters and firmness of the wet sand.  I fucking loved it.  I did it.  Without help.  Without Dad, screaming to stop doing it like a girl... God bless Dad, I think he was just so confused at who he had produced.  Poor Bastard.

I love this picture.  I even love the rental wet gear top that gave me a blistering skin rash that rubbed me the wrong way the entire ride back to NYC. 

Sometimes I like to dive into the water in the swimming pool at the bathhouse and touch the drain.  Its so quiet down there.  Just like when you are out in the ocean on top of your surf board.  You only hear the water, which your ears begin to grow accustomed to, and all that is left is the sound of your heart beat... oh, and Cher.  "If, I Could Turn Back Taiiimme!"

Do it Keanu Reeves!  You look fantastic by the way.  Oh, and you too Lori Petty.  League of Their Own was amazing just because of the pig tails you had to wear, probably every day of shooting.  I often wondered if they just attached them with pins to your ball cap to save you the grueling daily make-up chair fiasco?  It's amazing how obsessed I was with pointing out fake hair in film.