On Saturday Morning My Wife

Sunday, October 07 2001

On Saturday morning my wife and I were clobbered by a wave at Laguna Beach while standing in and on some rocks near the surf. A guy who witnessed it immediately thought we were tourists, which was kind of funny. I felt insulted, namely because I knew this guy wasn’t exactly a native himself (he had a heavy foreign accent). He began to explain to us how tides worked and how waves worked and all sorts of elementary stuff that practically courses through my veins having surfed for nearly my entire life to date. Carrie thinks he thought we were tourists because we were a). clobbered by a wave and b.) whiter than casper the ghost. Perhaps I would have assumed the same thing. But he should have believed us when we explained we lived not even 5 minutes from the beach, and that we’d lived on the beach for most of our lives. Moral of the story: don’t get clobbered by a wave when your skin is as white as freshly fallen pure snow.