When the sun is out and the surf is anything better than below average, I am a bona-fide, pseudo-scientifically qualified, happy as a bunny, Wellness guru.
But when it’s flat, I’m a cunny of a fella.
As surfers, we all know this to be true. Surf = pleasant to be around. No surf = varying degrees of arsehole.
But knowing something doesn’t make it any less confronting. This week, surfing (with a capital S) revealed to me my very own Jekyll and Hyde.
Monday to Wednesday
I worked hard. I did the dishes. I surfed.
I was complimented for not freaking out when the electrician charged us $470 to install two lights in the kitchen. And again, when my intimate partner contributed to a carpet mis-measurement that’ll cost another $350 plus a 2-month wait to install – effectively delaying our home renovation until after Christmas.
These things didn’t bother me in the least. Why would they? As I remarked to the over-apologetic carpet-installer, “It’s only carpet, buddy. It’s not the end of the world.”
Thursday to Saturday
Work was a chore. Fuck the dishes. I did not surf.
When our geriatric cat started screaming to be fed at 5am (as she does every morning) I called her rude names, and said if she was that hungry she should piss off and hunt a native bird. Which is as dumb as it is unkind because the old pussy is completely deaf and no longer ventures beyond the porch.
Driving round town I called about a hundred and fifty strangers, plus a couple of acquaintances, “fucked cunts”, or similar, for crimes ranging from being a pedestrian and riding a bike, to driving too slow and driving too fast.
My intimate partner suggested it was not okay for me to act like it was the end of the world just because she didn’t purchase shiitake mushrooms at the farmer’s market.
So what about being a Wellness guru?
Well, another thing my intimate partner noticed this week is that post-surf I’ve been mansplaining a whole heap of pseudo-scientifically, definitely-probably-not-plausible wellness advice. Such as: people who are physically active have stronger immune systems, which I evidenced with a passionate monologue based on a documentary I saw once. I also strenuously sympathised with Kelly Slater’s stance on not wanting to pollute his body with a vaccine even if it might save lives, and even if it means sacrificing his last ever shot at WSL world title glory.
To be honest, given the quality and quantity of the waves Kelly Slater surfs, how could he not consider himself a bona-fide Wellness guru and dish out advice to lesser mortals?
So yeah, when there’s waves, I totally get wellness and acai bowls, how-to-surf-good video content, practicing mindfulness and foiling at crowded beach breaks. I even understand why pseudo-science should be taught in schools and replace actual science.
It’s only when the ocean goes flat that I believe in nothing, behave like an idiot, renounce all religion and swear at old people from my motor car.
Thank you Surfing for making me aware of myself and providing such an essential life lesson.
Surfing lesson #708 – As long as there’s waves I’m a happy-go-lucky Wellness guru who doesn’t need a vaccine and can scientifically prove via social media that anyone who does get sick is weak and deserves to die