Crossing that thin red line in Venice on the tail-end of a great mid-October swell.
Look into Daniel’s eyes and you’ll see a kid that’s going to serve up a plate of amazing while the rest of us are eating sample dish of “I’m not sure.”
DST…fat city ready.
“Dad, can I use the ‘GoPer’?” Results: a little slice of grom heaven.
Keep at it boys; looking good.
DST: [Walking by a liquor store in Venice] “Hey dad, isn’t that you?”
Me: [Looking closely] “Holy
s&%t shucks, it is your old man. Ha!”
Tagging aside funny to see yourself in your local liquor store window…wait, maybe not.
Face may have been cut off by a big ol’ tag, but I know that cold shirt and Herbie (53) anywhere. 2013 Catalina Classic Marathon Paddleboard Race.
[UPDATE: Found the original!]
Keep some perspective: Friday, upright, sun is out, friends are on speed-dial.
Thank you for showing up — yes, we were getting a bit anxious with all your overcast days and lack of surf, but it looks like you’ve decided to show.
I wish I had all of Daniel’s 4,186 sleeps on video–I would shamelessly put them on a loop, in reverse order, and watch him get younger with each passing day. As it is, D is off to astro camp to consider the perigee of the moon (one of six “super-moons” this year), stay up late, and generally be a kick-ass 11-year old while mom and dad contemplate how to slow down this whole thing called ‘growing up.’ You can’t see it (like the new moon) but it’s larger and closer than we all think.
Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like when you’re older must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams.
True story: in 5th grade, my teacher took us on an ‘oceanography’ field trip to (wait for it)…his fishing boat. Now, to be fair, he was a billfisherman and harpooner at that, but I seriously think he needed to finish prepping “Sloppy Tail” (or whatever his boat was called) for a long weekend of fishing.
Cut to D’s 5th grade outing to The Getty Villa. Grecian and Roman art at every turn, a beautiful hillside setting, on a 75 degree day in January. Not a rapala or a six pack of Olympia to be found. Oh how times change.