Me. In a little over 2 weeks I’ll be cranking out the windows media player and playing ‘hide the screen’ from my manager. Depending on time zone, I can be happy at my desk or unhappy at night knowing me watching the comp will horrendously lower the probability of both my enjoyment of, and productivity at, work the next day. Now last year I started off stoked, then by Bells was bummed. Dane at Trestles and the whole J-Bay comp de-bummed me, but by Europe the bumming had returned. This year, the bumming is already apparent. I have come up with reasons for this painful and not so fresh feeling:
1. The realisation that only a triathlete posing as a surfer can win the title, bar some bold headed alien with sleeves of a wizard.
2. Bold headed alien doesn’t give a shit anymore and will use the tour to ride alien boards and make the judges hurt inside with their internal adverse reactions to creative surfing. Although, this is a positive so why is it on the list? Oh yeah, because the alien doesn’t care anymore and he likes Andy now.
3. My dream of less Brazilians has turned into the nightmare of more Brazilians.
4. Taj likes ladies more than his quest for the title. Not to judge this choice of soft skin curves over hard metalic angles, but I feel mangy inside that his talent will never be applied to re-writing the 3 to the beach title win tactic. By mangy I mean hungover, ate a kebab, tried to have relations with my lady, nearly threw up, had to take a time out.
5. The dank possibility of watching the first 3 comps in waves I would rather blog about than watch. Gold Coast, Bells, Brazil, Dream Tour, Protein Shakes, Jujitsu, Same Top Turn At 4 Different Speeds, Webcast Induced Hemorrhage.
These are the wishful occurances that could salvage my stoke, making 2010 as memorable as my first and last venture into Gin land:
a. Kelly, Dane and Jordy decide they all want a Micktory, so setting up a series of events that defy the ‘inefficient neon theory’ in their shining brightness.
b. Andy comes back drunk, heavy and aggressive. He smashes waves and beers with vigor.
c. Soup Bowls does it’s ‘below sea level to fire coral death’ display long enough to run all rounds of The Search event.
d. The Goods denounce the bible and realise that god doesn’t give a shit about surfing.
e. Dane wears a fanny pack/bum bag over his wetsuit.
f. Bobby employs his pit bulls as caddies who embroil Reef riders/corporateers in a predator prey realtionship. This causes Reef”s Q1 profits to drop 37%, leaving the board no choice but to axe Machado from the team. He goes back to Indo to finish the hole he pretended to dig for 5 minutes in the filming of the Drifter, this time without a script, film crew, painful cliches or grotesque ulterior motives.
Alright, there we have it. Just writing this meandering, close to pissing myself rant on the upcoming tour has made me need to imbibe almonds. Go figure.