Simple Ideas

Nothing to say...

Blogging | May 31, 2011

...but lots to drink. It was 30th on 30th tonight. Me being me, I supported the appointed street on the appointed day.

If I take my glasses off, I can't even see the screen. If I leave them on, I can see two copies of the screen. You get the idea. Either I over supported the event, or I've picked up a whopper of an infection from going into the surf today.

It doesn't matter, though, either way.

Made it back to San Diego today. I had a good couple of weeks in Ventura. My class went brilliantly. I was a student for two weeks and that provided very good insight into why students hate being students. Our classes have lots of technical difficulties. Mostly it is class design vice the profs, but you see it as a student. You feel their pain.

Granted, it was worse for my team, because not only did they have the two profs running the class, they had me at the table.

I'm what some people would call difficult (if they were being kind). I would make a harsher assessment. It's the edgy integrity thing.

About 8 days in, which seemed like 80 days in I'm sure to my team, I was on one of my tangential rants when one forlorn student pleaded "Can't we just do the exercise?"

Nah.

You see, the exercise was created by a cretin. We go out and hire boatloads of cretins to create our class exercises. This I know from looking over said exercises over the past two years. But the poor unwitting students, little do they know they are being cretinized.

By the end of the two weeks, no one wanted to go home. They figured it out. They figured that Team 3 in the CON 353 class was the place to be. Roughly 311 million Americans were not on this team and by comparison, they were not even alive. This was the Studio 54 of 2011. They got it. We rocked. We had fun. We drilled the final presentation. It was high fives and high tens all around. We really got it. You only sort of get it because you were one of the 311 million at best.

I could try the false humility thing, but why bother? Everyone knows. "Oh sure, the Army guy gave great briefs. And the AF Master Sergeant was the MVP. And the DCAA auditor was a rock. And the Navy lady drilled the details. And the AF lady held us together."

And me? Well let me tell you what I did. I left early and went biking most days. There that is the key to a successful team. Get the difficult person out of the room. It is that easy.

The team was great and I didn't screw it up! That much I can say.

Then I came home. Home is good. North Park in San Diego. The Sign at 30th and University. It makes me misty.

I'm not living an alternative lifestyle, I should mention that after the misty thing.

It's Ok, to be alternative, I'm just not.

But that brings me to Black's Beach, where I have to think most of the naked guys were alternative. I only say that because I'm not alternative and I wasn't naked. You see how that works, reasoning-wise.

It's OK if you don't. Phone a friend, they can maybe explain it.

If not, no worries. It's just an aside.

Actually, it's a transition. It gets me from North Park to La Jolla where I was surfing today. Only my second shot at the waves since I broke my skull.

It went well. Meaning, I didn't break anything that I hadn't broken before.

I headed out hoping to surf at Scripps Pier, but there was no parking. I bailed and headed one beach north, Black's Beach.

Yeah, its a nude beach.

Yeah its a 15 minute hike to the beach from the park lot.

Yeah, its the best break in San Diego.

I found a spot to park, suited up and hiked down. Had no idea where to surf, but no matter, I just jumped in and gave it a go. Good energy in the water. No other surfers out where I was. This is generally a sign that I'm an idiot surfing the wrong spot, but...

I was ok. I was surfing the whitewater inside. There were 4-5 footers that were closed out outside. I had my long board and that does fine in white water. I was cool.

Somewhat. There were naked guys on the beach. Alternative guys, as I alluded to earlier, swinging their schlongs for no apparent reason. I don't know. Is a schlong tan a status symbol in that community? Women don't care, I've found. Tanned or not, they don't seem to care. Has to be an alternative thing, you feel me?

Anyway, I'd periodically catch a good wave and ride it almost all the way in. Then I'd scare the bejesus out of some schlong dangler who had waded out knee deep and was now re-evaluating a decision that could cost him the family jewels. I mean not that I'd get close enough to a to dejewel him. Then again, it was a 9 foot board, so they had reason to be concerned.

Mostly I avoided people as I always do. There was a big cluster of people that might have been naked north of me. I stayed south. I was there to surf, not to ogle or make unfunny comments about sexual identity. Really, if you wanted to come to Blacks and get naked, I didn't care. I was there to surf.

I held fast to that opinion until I started back up the 15 minute climb to the parking lot at about 11:00 AM.

Seems all the female porn stars show up for their daily full body tan at about 11:05.

Was I upset?

Nah.

I was there to surf.

That's all I have to say.


Any Comments?

Her place in the World

By GREG MAFFETT
Published: December 12, 2012

Eulogy for my Mom. The priest stopped me after the second paragraph and told me to slow down. But I got through and think I said all the words.

12/30/10.

By GREG MAFFETT
Published: March 7, 2011

Behind in my blogging, but also behind in my 30th on 30th.