I’ve talked a little bit about what I call The California Myth before- and maybe myth isn’t a good word. The California Image. The California Package. Uh, I don’t know. I’ll come up with a better phrase.
Some legendary archetypes have come out of California, and probably the greatest is The Surfer. I don’t even need to describe The Surfer to you, he or she is like The Cowboy or The Pro-Wrestler, you just know.
I always wanted to be A Surfer. So far I have failed. Yes, I love surfing, no I can’t actually do it.
A Surfer doesn’t battle the ocean, but moves in unison with it. A Surfer doesn’t tame the ocean, but joins with it. I’ve always suspected there is a spiritual element to being a surfer, but again, I wouldn’t know because I can’t surf.
I’m also not someone who actually places much importance on spirituality (whatever that is) so maybe it wouldn’t work on me anyway.
I can bodyboard, which is kind of like saying “I can’t play guitar, but I rip at Guitar Hero.” Well, not exactly; I can ride waves. I know how they work. I can feel the ocean’s power. But I can’t shake the feeling when I’m doing it that it would be much cooler if I were standing up.
I have tried. I need to buy a longboard and put in the time figuring it out. Someday I will. Until then I will watch admiringly from the shore.