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Water, Water Everywhere And Not A Drop To Drink
Hijinks On The High Seas… And Beyond
Author Archives: Casey Butler Harwood
New York Surf Film Festival 2010
An Experiment in Time Traveling.
2:00 p.m. Sunday (September 26, 2010)
I just evicted a gang of empty, green bottles that was squatting on the kitchen counter. They had overstayed their welcome; they reeked of last night’s party.
9:08 p.m. Saturday
As Lori and I watched Always Sunny, I tried to push a hundred thousand thoughts out of my brain. First and foremost: My brother Taylor and his friend Moe were not yet here–we were running behind schedule.
4:30 p.m. Saturday
SENT To: Lori Higginbotham: “do you think it would be better if i skipped the first movie then we could get some food and take taylor with us in the taxi?”
10:03 p.m. Saturday
By the time the driver deposits us at Canal and Varick, the free beer has been depleted, but we don’t know that yet. Outside the theater, I tap Christian on the shoulder. He turns around, blinks, and says, “Hey! Welcome home!” as he gives me a hug.
Inside, our remaining complimentary beverage options are Seven Tiki rum and Barefoot champagne. We opt for champagne. To start.
Hurricane State of Mind « expression-session blog
Here’s a nice video from Eastern Surf Mag (via Expression Session).
Ship Shape: Reservoir Running
I’ve been in my new apartment for exactly a week now. It is not a block from the beach, but it is a couple of blocks from Central Park–I can’t very well complain. I obviously have not been surfing every day, so I’m back to gym-ing and the like.
This morning, I ran (ok, jogged) around the reservoir in the park (ok, just part of the way). I got to play the “funcomfortable” game of Nanny or Mommy? which definitely helped distract me from the actual act of running. I discovered that once you get to the top of the reservoir, there is a really excellent view of the mid- and downtown skyline. Finally, and most importantly, I realized that the reservoir runners, who are of all ages and skill levels, employ a fascinating array of techniques, postures, and demeanors. In short, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel self-conscious about my form again. Which is a huge relief. I think I might actually like running in the park.
All good things…
I left San Clemente on August 30th. It was a Monday. I woke up early and drove down to the jetty at Oceanside, where I found not-so-excellent waves. Carlsbad wasn’t really any better. The water, however, was probably warmer than it had been all summer, and ridiculously clear. Initially, there was one other guy in the feeble lineup, presumably trying, like myself, to squeeze in a mediocre (but still satisfying) morning session. He soon got out and left me in the company of an enormous lone seal. Later, everyone I told this to would say, “Oh. They can be nasty, you know.” or “Seals attract SHARKS!” But at the moment it seemed pretty incredible. And it was definitely a first for me.
Back in SC, I returned my rental car and shipped some cargo to the right coast. I still had a few hours to kill, and I spent those hours surfing super fun waves with a bunch of enthusiastic, long-haired 12-year-old boys. It didn’t matter that the time I had alloted for packing and showering was fast dwindling; I just didn’t want to get out of the water. When I finally did, I’m sure I looked like a crack head: bloodshot eyes and a blissed out expression on my face.
—
Dearest California,
I think I might be in love with you. I didn’t want to leave you, but it was something I needed to do. Let’s make the best of this separation and reassess our situation in a couple of months.
Yours with unwavering adoration,
CB
SURFER: Can Sunscreen Actually Cause Skin Cancer?
Check out my scandalous sunscreen story on SURFER.
I Would Do This Job For Free All Over Again
Today is my last day as a SURFER intern. Last night, I sat on the floor of my sparsely decorated bedroom and packed some movies and t-shirts into a cardboard box. I think I got some dust in my eyes or something.
It's in the mail.
As most of you know, I am an incurable optimist, so I’m trying to look on the bright side. Sure, New Jersey is not as sunny as California, and the waves are quite a bit less consistent, but the water is warmer. So is the air… this time of year. New York is a lot more exciting than San Clement-y. Jersey gas is cheaper (and I don’t have to pump it). Some might call this a con, but I AM TRYING TO BE POSITIVE, HERE. Dan supplied: “Talk is cheaper in NJ. And if you have fists, you have to pump them.” Okay, that works–fist pumping is a hallmark of good cheer. We get epic thunderstorms on the East Coast, not just dreary drizzle. The tri-state area is where most of my friends and family are located. And maybe above all, I only have one semester left before earning my MA and then, theoretically, I can go wherever/do whatever I want. Probably, where I will want to go is here and what I will want to do is this. But we’ll see. The world is an aphrodisiac. Or whatever. Buck up.
P.S. If this is anything like when I left Paris, and I suspect that it will be, you can look forward to lots of cynical posts in upcoming weeks. Hey, at least they might be funny.
Water, Water Everywhere And Not A Drop To Drink 