Water, Water Everywhere And Not A Drop To Drink
Hijinks On The High Seas… And Beyond
Category Archives: City Surf Fix
Experiment Subject Numero Uno
Name: Evan
Borough: Manhattan
Age: Probably 17 years old. (Don’t judge me. This is research.)
Description: 6’4″ish. Light brown, shaggy, ear-length hair. Black Volcom jacket over a hoodie, brown pants, black skate sneaks.
Surfdar Certitude (Vibe Strength): 54.831%
Okay, kids. Weigh in!
Kelly’s Numero Diez y No Hay Surfers en esta Ciudad!
Kelly Slater: Superhuman. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
I mostly just wanted to update you guys on the surfer stalking. I saw one character on the 6 train who I’m 96% sure was a surfer (very blonde and wearing a neon pink t-shirt) but he basically disappeared after getting off at Spring Street. I thought for sure he’d head to Saturdays, but no such luck. He has literally been the only person to set off my surfer-dar since I decided to conduct this massively creepy experiment, but I’ll not be deterred…
In other news, I am going to Tex-ass tomorrow for my dear friend Cody’s wedding and I’m super psyched–even though I’m missing this swellage:
Ah well, let me know how your sessions go!
Birthday Month and Mad Science
November is what I like to call “Birthday Month.” Not only is my birthday (favorite day of the year, duh) this month, but so are the birthdays of several of my favorite people. Mom, I’m looking at you. The moniker is made even more appropriate (and relevant) by the fact that Water, Water will also be a year old on November 12th.
B.M. seems like the perfect time to get a little eccentric, so I’ve come up with this experiment. It’s based on a crackpot theory I have that surfers can recognize other surfers. I think it’s partly due to instinct, partly to keen observational skills (probably honed by constant lineup vigilance). RVCA hat, toned triceps, deeper base tan than most New Yorkers, less-than-perfect hair: pretty solid indicators. Nothing infallible, however. This is where instinct comes in. We have a vibe. Or maybe it’s a pheromone. Liable to be imperceptible to other species, it signals our presence to those in the know. Much like how bees are genetically capable of sniffing out fear, surfers are genetically built to ID other surfers. I am the best ever analogy creator. Anyway, that’s my theory. So here’s the fun part: I’m going to put it to the test.
For the next month, every time I see someone who my gut tells me is a surfer [within the confines of New York City] I am going to ask. I’m also going to ask if I can take his photo, so that I can post it here for you (all four of you) and maybe–just maybe–it can be like a game. You tell me if you agree with my assessment, and I’ll tell you whether your surfer radar is better than mine. I might rub it in your face if it’s not. But wait… shit. If your radar’s off, that kind of disproves my hypothesis. Whatever, let the creeping on innocent, Billabong-wearing strangers begin!
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.
On the inside… Castles NYC
Okay, so here’s a random hodge podge (I said it) of thoughts I didn’t include in the SURFER story:
- I was literally standing a foot from Dan Malloy for a good twenty minutes before we caught each others’ attention. I said, “Hi.” He said, “Hi.” That was it. I panicked.
- Somehow, it was easier to approach Taylor Steele?? Maybe because this was a few hours later… anyway…
- There were a ridiculous number of models present who made 5’8″ me feel short.
- Motorcycle-riding girls who smelled of incense were strategically placed in theaters to add another dimension to the viewing experience. Or, maybe that was a lucky coincidence.
Also, I learned the following lessons… Continue reading
City Surf Fix: Get ONLINE
(Everybody’s Doing It)
If you’re in some wretched, land-locked location, crying about missing the ocean, sign up for Twitter. Maybe that sounds kind of lame, but if my research is correct, 19 (19!) of the 2009 ASP Top 27 have Twitter accounts. Not to mention that the major mags, surf shops, and filmmakers are also on there, posting all kinds of stuff that, as a surfer, probably matters to you. Or it should.
Also, all of this contest streaming is pretty amazing.
City Surf Fix: ¡VAMOS! (Fish Tacos)
You’re a surfer. You know you love Mexican food (we all do). In a city that boasts thousands of restaurants – many of them Mexican – fish tacos are not as ubiquitous as you’d think.
Tacos de Pescado Frito (Baja)
¡VAMOS! (1st Avenue between 20th and 21st Streets) has a massive array of both tacos and tequilas. The Tacos de Pescado Frito Baja Style are over-stuffed with beer-battered, fried fish and chipotle mayo. They are delicious. The menu warns of some heat, but they’re really not that spicy, so drip a little bit of that unnaturally green hot sauce on ’em for an extra kick. Two tacos will run you about $8.
Water, Water Everywhere And Not A Drop To Drink 