Why didn't my people find the promised land.....in FIJI!

No, thank you I can't make it in this lifetime
I found this article in Surline:

In pictures: Surfing for peace

A Palestinian porter pushes surfboards past the security gates of the Erez Crossing, in the Gaza Strip. The boards have been donated to Palestinian youths by an elderly American surfer.

Dorian Paskowitz, 86, from Hawaii, handed over some of the surfboards himself. The retired Jewish doctor hopes a love of surfing will help bring Israelis and Palestinians together.



The beach is one of the few places Gazans can relax. However, it is closely monitored by the Israeli military which controls the sea off Gaza's coast and the airspace above.

Several Israeli companies and donors also contributed to the donation of 12 surfboards. The gesture is part of the wider "Surfing for Peace" movement.

Gaza's surfing community is small. Dr Paskowitz said he was spurred into action after reading about two surfers in Gaza who only had one board to share between them.

Reading this from the comfort of my couch I have several thoughts. First and foremost why couldn't we have settled in Fiji? We wouldn't have bothered the Fijians. I would have been first in line to join the Israel Military and guard the important islands of Namotu and Tavarua against the dangers of sea turtles.

Second.. This Paskowitz guy lost his mind years ago. If you happened to watch the movie Surfwise about him and his 9 kids living in a camper, you saw that growing up surfing could be miserable. Then going anywhere near Hamas with surfboards?

Third ...The guys in the SL8R shirts are classic.

Fourth....I was going to post my complaints about the storm and the long weekend, but I was sobered after watching the news this morning. Both sides in this 2,000 year war are shooting missiles at each other again after the ceasefire.

We are lucky to live where our biggest surf issue is the rain. I went to a retirement party for a fancy exec at my wifes company a few weeks back. He was a Viet Nam Vet who went right into the thick of things. When people would come to him with their work problems he had a saying that rings true " Life is good! No one is shooting bullets at you"

Why We Fight

Two nights ago I had this weird nighmare I was back in Venice as a 13 year old grom in the middle of an ugly fist fight with another kid. In keeping with the propaganda war theme. I thought about why we fight.


Here are some idiots fighting over the sanctity of Mathew McCoonaughey being able to surf a kooky spot in Topanga.

Thinking about it there really are noreasons I can see to fight over surfing. I did some research last night. In that I was wide awake after drinking a latte at 6:30pm, I found a Masters Thesis online "A Sociological Study of the Surfing Subculture" Stephen Hull . www.lajollasurf.org/srf_thes.html

I hope that Steve did well in life and his parents aren't too pissed off they paid for him to get a Master's Degree in Surfing. I liked it. It was cool because he did his research in 1974-1976 in Santa Cruz and interviewed the Locals.

However, the more I read on surfing and fighting, it became plain depressing. When I moved to Leucadia in 1994, I came from Northern California where you would see a fight every time you paddled out. Before Northern California I grew up in Venice CA which was the slums by the sea. The documentary Dogtown and ZBoys chronicled my youth surfing bad waves with some interesting characters in a violent surf zone.

Here is the diary of my macho local fight (less profanity) circa 1975 at 16 years old surfing '4 Mile (four miles north of Santa Cruz). I had just been cut off by a guy who was a non local:

Me- (feeling tough) "You kook get out of here"

Macho Kook- (He was in his mid thirties looking very pale) "Sorry Man"

Me- (too many of my macho local friends around) " I don't care! Your out of here"

Macho Kook- (Face still pale which is a telling sign) "OK let's take it to the beach"

Me- (making huge mistake, but hormones and Adrenalin win) "OK, paddle in"

On the beach now the dynamic changed from I am having a road rage moment to turning into a full on fight with some guy I don't know and don't care about. We are now standing face to face surrounded by my idiot friends and other dregs of society locals that surfed that spot.

Back to the pale face program, a cop will tell you that a red faced person is less of a threat than someone with a calm face. The red faced guy has peaked and the display is all he has. The guy who is calm has more chance of violence. back to the fight-----

Macho Kook-"you want to call this off"

Me-(I don't remember what I said but here is a good facsimile) "I am a complete idiot and can't let the mob down on this thing. I really want to go to the ER with a broken hand and have a black eye so I can miss three weeks of surfing with a cast"

Macho Kook- Being a grown man he is culpable. It was time for him to leave and laugh it off, but he throws the first punch at me. With my lighting quick reflexes being what they are he catches me right in the cheek bringing me down to the sand with a sharp pain and dizzy nausea.

Me- I get up quickly and have realized that I really did not want to be in this mess. Macho Kook is coming back at me for the kill. My idiot friends are screaming at me and I land a punch.

Macho Kook is Down, Macho Kook is Down!

But here is the real end of the story. I broke my hand. It hurt and I had a black eye that made me look like a serial killer. I missed the rest of the day surfing and the next three weeks of surfing. Three weeks is like 30 years when you are 16. No one wins in a fight. I could have let Macho Kook have his wave and fight someone else. I would have forgot the whole incident and had a great day surfing. Shawn Tomson in his book 'Surfer Code' http://www.surferscode.com/ talks more eloquently about avoiding a fight and how a fight he had ruined his surf experience at Rincon.

This is why I love Leucadia. The good news is that when I moved here everything changed. There are woman and families surfing. It takes the macho vibe out of the water when your Mom is out.