Looking somewhat cool at the Surf Expo with Charley Baldwin of CB Surfboards.
Off and Running
After our initial success, we began to write more letters. We would meet up and find a topic and then insert odd beatnik inspired lingo; painting a picture that we were like the kids from Scooby-Doo. Driving around in a van and having odd experiences in the surf.
Over time, the dynamics of things began to shift. Joe was eying a move to Hawaii and I really do not think writing was his bag anyway. So things shifted over to Tim and I to create our short works of prose.
The Surf Expo
The Surf Expo is a convention that happens several times a year in Orlando and it draws all of the major surfing companies and the circus that comes with it to check out the newest lines. Thanks to my sponsors, I was able to get the whole gang in. Once inside, we got the brilliant idea to flip our badges inside out and to scribble Zim, Finn, and Shim on our badges. To our surprise, people had read our letters and people actually spoke to us about them. What cool cats we were! We were list F-List celebrities!
Mr. Walt Novak
I have never met Mr. Novak. Now, I have figured out that he is the father of North Shore surfer, Flynn Novak and he likes to write letters to the editor as much as we do. Maybe even more since I have seen him write letters to The University of Hawaii and to the paper in Honolulu. He even wrote a book so writing must consume his passions. But way back then, we wanted to see our names over and over and frowned when once again the editors chuckled at another of Walt’s responses. This guy was a major thorn in our sides! But he was also the fuel to our fire.
So the letters continued. But now, after months of writing, Tim began to realize that there were other things out there…Things like women and parties. So I soon found myself trying to keep the magic alive.
During this period, I stopped writing myself. What could I do to continue this?
I too began to lose myself in the fun. But there in the back of my mind was the lingering question.
Recently, I was involved in yet another poor attempt at cleaning the house when I found some boxes under my bed. As I dug through one box, a magazine appeared and I knew instantly why it was separated from the millions of others I own. I started to thumb through it.
It was like a blanket had been pulled off an old forgotten toy. There was the answers to what I did and I how it went wrong. I grimaced from my stupid move but I had to shake my head and laugh as well.
The grand finale is on the way!