I often think about this. When we were younger. Before hopping on a board. Before feeling that first rush (and push) of whitewash.... What exactly was it that dominated our interest? Before any of us knew better. Seriously. Beyond old Godzilla movies and the idea Mothra realistically posed a legitimate threat.... When I was like 5-6yr old I pretended giant, chunky crayola magic markers were swords. I'd choose red (duh) and dramatically slash n' hack at a defenseless 18"x24" tablet of paper..thinking the wildly obscure, lethal-looking markings were mortal hits on an unsuspecting enemy's very soul. I was entirely untouchable...my training was far too rigorous for most to understand...let alone deal with in their hearts...I was immune, stoic & invincible: ....I was a champion of the people...releasing those desperate folk from tyranny--allowing sweet justice & reprieve... Was I victorious? Of course I was...we were all 5yr old...c'mon..the imaginary glory sustained us.. Then.....we grew up.. Well...sorta.....I did anyway. I began surfing in my 30's. Not the norm--I get that...just reality. I'd bravely dive down into double over-head thinking I was that invincible boy of my youth. I wasn't. My ass never looked nearly this good: I accepted it. So I stepped back to reflect... Christ was I a badass when I was all alone -- left to my own thoughts. What ever became of greatness? I was immortal... But.... ....reality creeps in.... Adolescence---a uniquely funny thing. Before losing my shit in shoulder-high. On what was probably a tongue depressor disguised... So.. Where were you..what were you doing....before you stepped on a board. I'd like to know.