OnBlueUnderCanvas

• French toast for breakfast
• surf Ryan’s longboard at “the pass” = awesome
• watch WALL-E
• kirk surf the longboard at sunset
• take pictures at sunset on the beach

I know diddly-squat about California, other than it’s chock full of Hollywood crazies. So much so that one was even elected to run the joint. Besides that, a six hour layover at LAX doesn’t count as seeing the Golden State. Remedy? A Route 1 road trip.

We have no Lonely Planet to guide the way, so in theory we’re destined for…loneliness? Really though, have you ever used one of those things before? It’s dangerous with its knowledge. It makes you believe that you’re “in the know.” If you’re not careful, you’ll be funneled into the same travel path already beaten down by millions and millions of tourists. Instead of creating your own experience, you will become just another consumer of the pre-packaged Lonely Planet soup de jour: all taste and no substance.

There is one thing that’s better than guidebooks. People. We have friends, relatives and friends of friends offering (or rather, conceding when we’ve begged) couches to sleep on, cars to tool around in, hot showers to get squeaky clean in, and a whole wealth of local knowledge steering us clear of the tourist trench. All sharing their slice of California with us to savor, local-style.

Brandon, a friend of Kirk’s from high school, picked us up from the airport. With suitcases pilled on our laps, we rode in his ’89 Cadillac Eldorado down to Huntington Beach, making a stop at In-N-Out Burger, a Cali institution. After dumping our bags in Brandon’s apartment, we grabbed longboards – Brandon loaned Kelly a bike – and headed to the beach.

The sun hung low over the Pacific, but still radiated warmth on the beachfront. It was late afternoon on the weekend and the boardwalk was still buzzing with people. Bikers zig-zagged, strollers rolled, and skateboards carved. We walked out onto the pier and looked over the edge. A cluster of surfers bobbed in the water, waiting for the next good wave. Clad in their black wet suits – a necessity in the chilly January ocean – they looked like seals having a grand old time in the surf.

After Kirk finished salivating over surfing (he was just itching to jump in the waves), we skated inland up a main drag lined with shops, restaurants and bars. Brandon and his roommate, Brendan – I know, confusing – took us to their regular locale: Kilarney’s irish pub. Five dollars bought us a giant pile of nachos with all the fixings. I drank a Black Velvet – a combination of Guinness and pear cider. Smooth, crisp, sweet and substantial. We toasted our welcome to California. ☼

Ever since my bike got stolen – ARGH! – I have been relying on my wheeled piece of bamboo to get me places faster than just walking. I’m not shunning walking, walking is fantastic. Anyone who has seen Wall*E knows that, considering the course our increasingly lazy society is headed, we all could benefit from a few more steps on the pedometer. But when it’s hoofing it over 2 miles back and forth every day, plus 2 train rides, the commute just gets long.

On my longboard, I get there a little faster.

I bet you have a preferred hand with which you hold a pencil to write. Probably you use the same one to brush your teeth. I bet too, you have a favored foot with which you kick a soccer ball or take the first step up a flight of stairs. By the same token, I have a foot that I always put in front when I’m riding on my longboard. It’s my right foot.

Ironically, most people who ride a board (longboard, skateboard, snowboard, wakeboard) position their right foot behind, and lead with their left. This is the normal riding position. When the right is forward, its called a “goofy” stance. Thus, I’m a “goofy” rider. What’s that you’re giggling at? There was no pun intended.

With all the skating from A to B that I’ve been doing lately, my left ankle (the one I use to ‘kick’ along) is getting tired out. The scales have tipped back in favor of walking. That, or switching feet on my longboard.

Have you ever tried brushing your teeth with your other hand? I kinda miss my mouth a bit, getting ‘Cool Mint’ foam all over my face. Then I try a little harder, determined to give my teeth a good scrub. I can only seem to tame my hand to go back and forth, back and forth, in one spot on my teeth, then if I try for a new angle, ahh! ‘foaming action’ all over my face again.

What is the point of this silliness, do you ask? Besides turning a simple 3-minute bathroom affair into an epic battle between oneself and the lesser extremity, new brain cells are actually being created – right out of thin air. Thin air and lots of frustration, but nevertheless. Exercising our muscles in different ways forces new synapses to form inside our brains, bolstering the health of our grey matter. (Read more here.) Heck yeah.

So, in an effort to exercise my other foot and my brain, I try – sometimes, and not during rush hour – to skate kicking with my other foot. It’s definitely a challenge, but it feels good to relieve my left foot of its kicking duties and know that I am, in a sense, “smartening” myself up too.