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11/19/09 Man, that was a long break from writing this thing. Somewhere toward the end of October, the universal forces became gyroscopically aligned against my time-space continuum and I had to hit the escape button to keep from being sucked down into the void. In layman’s terms, I had a bunch of work to do so I slacked off on the blog. I just didn’t mean for it to stretch out for six weeks. Plus, I promised Mrs. Blog a week’s vacation and had to make good on that vow or face a slow descent into night. It turned out to be a pretty cool vacation, too. Certainly was one of the few times I have ever willingly gone somewhere that has no hope of a surf, skate or snowboard session. I actually wanted to go where there was none of the above because poor Mrs. Blog has been so indulgent of my surf obsession over the years that she deserved a payback. Yes, I know, I can hear all the bros groaning because somebody has broken ranks and the other wives now know that such a thing is possible. Sorry, dudes. It was a mental slip-up and I’ll try not to let it happen again. So, being completely buried by work and squeezing a vacation into the middle of it is my excuse, and I’ll try to catch you up on the highlights. First, the vacation out to We spent a few days in Sedona, which is the gathering place for weird. There is supposed to be some kind of giant vortex, like a huge spiral of multidimensional spiritual energy emanating from the rocks or something. People come from all over to meditate, pray and stuff. You can go to these places and have these shaman dudes read your karma, align your chakras, photograph your aura or scrub your blockage. Never made it, but I did find a local brewery that makes a pretty credible pilsner. Everything is all New Age, and there’re these stores stacked to the rafters with dried animal parts, sticks, incense rocks and just about all you need to aid you on whatever spiritual journey you’re into. I’m sure if you needed three badger teeth, a rattlesnake eye and 14 feathers from the Uruguayan Southern Lapwing to complete your astral map, they’d have it on Aisle 5. So I’m pretty much tiptoeing through all the stuff at this place, trying not to touch anything because my Karmann Ghia is already aligned and I’m not taking any chances of screwing it up, when all of a sudden, Mrs. Blog picks up this giant, crystal chakra wand and waves it all over me going, “Gee, wonder what this thing does?” Well, that pretty much shot a dart into my aura and started it swirling like the backlights at a Jefferson Airplane concert. So the rest of the trip I had to fill my shoes with magnets and wear this beaver skull necklace to keep from being sucked into the vortex and spit out into some other astral plane where you have Oreos instead of eyes and nobody cares. I think those airport security guys have something against us spiritual people. Why should I be treated so roughly just because I refuse to remove the skulls before going through the metal detector? I have every right to wear yak hides on an airplane. Don’t they feel the pull of the deadly vortex? Why did they resent being dusted with ground sage and beetle dung? Didn’t they feel cleansed? It’s hard to outrun a bunch of angry steroid airport guys with your Birkenstocks full of magnets. And now all my Lapwing feathers are bent. But the next weekend was the Joe Hiller memorial longboard contest and we had a great swell. An unbelievably good swell. And it was a gas to host the Westside guys over on the Eastside when there was actually something good to surf. Of course, I got blown out of my heat in the first round. It’s all Mrs. Blog’s fault. She should know better than to pick up a crystal wand. Hopefully that stuff will wear off my chakra before the next contest season begins. |
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