The real wind surfing vs. kite boarding debate!
Posted: Tue Jul 26, 2011 12:43 pm
Having risked an all-to-familiar complacency by embracing the masturbatory repetition of the “back and forth/in and out” monotony of ordinary kite boarding I have been visited by a specter such that I am compelled to explore and possibly disrupt the status quo of my disparaging wind past and agonizing wave present thereby tearing asunder my relationship with the senior citizen of wind sport (wind surfing) and it’s banal child (kite surfing).
While scouring Maui today for the highly cancerous additive dimethylanaline to activate unsolicited, unwanted and unpromoted vinylester, that the incompetents at Hawaii Fiberglass foisted upon me, I stumbled into a portal of my Hawaiian past. A constructor [note; not a manufacturer] of very sophisticated vacuum bagged carbon C1’s happened to have a spare half ounce of the coveted carcinogen I craved. During an unusual yet very familiar discourse on composites it was revealed that my cancer arbiter honed his composite craft in the same Oahu crucible as I, albeit 15 years after my apprenticeship/enslavement had [apparently] come to an end.....
While discussing our remembrances of the same insane assortment of iron curtain tunnelers (mostly Czechs), NASA miscreants, renegade oil refinery engineers and other assorted composite idiot savants that stumbled onto the mecca, makai east shore of Oahu during the late 70‘s and arguably gave birth to the [then] hip, hot, sassy, sexy windsurfing movement I became uncomfortably aware of a profound reenactment/revisitation of my past Hawaiian wind/surf saturated crimes coupled to my present kitesurfing addiction therein requiring a profound decoupling such that:
if insanity is repetition of the same act expecting a different result, then transcending the insanity and snatching transformation from the abyss, requires a re-imagining during reenactment of the repetitive act.
I suspect the catalyst for this meta-madness was a deja vu moment during the Oahu kite-board race last week. Noshing while watching Robbie Naish cross the finish line I remembered a familiar bento on Kailua Beach after finishing a surf ski race some 30+ years ago; I recall watching Robbie, then a very young hotshot windsurfing phenom, crafting his trade. His dad had just opened a store in the tiny Kailua mall around the corner. (The little mall is still there. The Oahu Naish store has long since moved). I momentarily felt 30 years younger and thirty pounds lighter. A portent of things no longer to come. Christ the gods are a pernicious lot!
The devilish firmament of this pensive postulate is; in the face of the inconceivable possibility of the reenactment of the same insane act(tion) how do you not f#$k up the same phenomenal opportunity for profound transformation with the same self-immolating conviction with which you nazied the same blessing the first time around?
Bibliography
- Amy Winehouse; Teach me Tonight (with those Jools Holland twits.)
- Is the Nitinaht sauna ready yet?
- Pre rant prior to return to Victoria next week.
While scouring Maui today for the highly cancerous additive dimethylanaline to activate unsolicited, unwanted and unpromoted vinylester, that the incompetents at Hawaii Fiberglass foisted upon me, I stumbled into a portal of my Hawaiian past. A constructor [note; not a manufacturer] of very sophisticated vacuum bagged carbon C1’s happened to have a spare half ounce of the coveted carcinogen I craved. During an unusual yet very familiar discourse on composites it was revealed that my cancer arbiter honed his composite craft in the same Oahu crucible as I, albeit 15 years after my apprenticeship/enslavement had [apparently] come to an end.....
While discussing our remembrances of the same insane assortment of iron curtain tunnelers (mostly Czechs), NASA miscreants, renegade oil refinery engineers and other assorted composite idiot savants that stumbled onto the mecca, makai east shore of Oahu during the late 70‘s and arguably gave birth to the [then] hip, hot, sassy, sexy windsurfing movement I became uncomfortably aware of a profound reenactment/revisitation of my past Hawaiian wind/surf saturated crimes coupled to my present kitesurfing addiction therein requiring a profound decoupling such that:
if insanity is repetition of the same act expecting a different result, then transcending the insanity and snatching transformation from the abyss, requires a re-imagining during reenactment of the repetitive act.
I suspect the catalyst for this meta-madness was a deja vu moment during the Oahu kite-board race last week. Noshing while watching Robbie Naish cross the finish line I remembered a familiar bento on Kailua Beach after finishing a surf ski race some 30+ years ago; I recall watching Robbie, then a very young hotshot windsurfing phenom, crafting his trade. His dad had just opened a store in the tiny Kailua mall around the corner. (The little mall is still there. The Oahu Naish store has long since moved). I momentarily felt 30 years younger and thirty pounds lighter. A portent of things no longer to come. Christ the gods are a pernicious lot!
The devilish firmament of this pensive postulate is; in the face of the inconceivable possibility of the reenactment of the same insane act(tion) how do you not f#$k up the same phenomenal opportunity for profound transformation with the same self-immolating conviction with which you nazied the same blessing the first time around?
Bibliography
- Amy Winehouse; Teach me Tonight (with those Jools Holland twits.)
- Is the Nitinaht sauna ready yet?
- Pre rant prior to return to Victoria next week.