Totally random... kinda

I'm not working right now, so this isn't a story from the road or set, just saving you a little time in case you have a better way to spend it. This story does relate to living somewhere other than bfe.
After a nice breakfast with the wife and a walk with the pooch, I decided to uphold my commitment to myself, surfing everyday no matter how crappy the waves are. I procrastinated, sifting thru maps and guidebooks, by planning our upcoming assault on the Kiwis.
Finally, I loaded up my gear and gently pedaled off on my trusty, but rusty Murray cruiser.
The tide was high and the waves a weak 1 to 2 ft. at best. Headed north I watched a sweeper shimmy and shake on a mushy right at 8th st. I kept going, hoping for a bit more size at Porto. A decent one came thru at 30th, but I stopped at 34th for some reason. One guy was stretching, about to paddle out. The sand bar had potential as the tide dropped. I called a few peeps to see if they were in the area, so I could share a couple waves with friends. But it would be a solo sesh for me.
Riding a new 5'9"(small for a clown like me at 6' tall and 180lbs.) my wife and I won in a magazine contest, I was skeptical. I locked the bike, suited up, and jogged down to the shore. The guy who had been stretching was up and progressing down the line at a pretty good clip. His green and yellow board looked like the middle of a longboard, fat. By 'middle' I mean it looked like the shaper cut the nose and tail off a longboard and came up with something that worked. This guy was catching every dribbler that came thru. A friend of his paddled out, an intermediate surfer, and they chatted. I waver between intermediate and experienced...or so I thought.
The new Surf Rx board I was riding was working out, I was getting some decent ones and throwing some ok turns. A pod of about eight dolphins approached us from the south. They came within approximately ten feet from us. Slowly trudging northward they breached as if to say "hey". One of the last slick gray mammals to pass thrashed its tail about before finally submerging.
Over my shoulder I heard a greeting aimed at the guy on the green and yellow board. I turned away from the horizon to see nineties surf star and big wave charger Brad Gerlach. WTF was he doing out in 2ft. junk, in Manhattan Beach? My carefree session was now filled with angst.
I could give a rat's ass if I was face to face with any movie star, but a pro surfer or a rock star, I hate to admit: starstruck.
Some of you may recall the time I met Mike Ness, famed singer of one of the best punk bands ever, Social Distortion. I was in New York, at Barney's, shopping for shoes as was he(I ignored the fact he was at Barney's). "Hey, are you Mike Ness?" I mumbled. "Yeah" he replied. "Right on" I said. Then I stood there, sweating, staring at him. Somehow the silence was broken, some menial words were exchanged and he walked off saying " enjoy your friend's wedding". Man I suck.
So there I was sitting 15ft from a Hall of Fame surfer, totally mind screwing myself out of good waves. He caught one and simply destroyed it. I caught a closeout and almost ran him over. Man I suck. I gathered myself and managed to catch a couple decent ones, doing a floater here, throwing a little spray there. I know he was watching me surf... uh no.
I wanted to talk to him, some kind of connection would certainly improve my surfing or make me cooler or validate the notion I was NOT a kook, right?
I knew my wife had directed him in something... " this is totally random but I think my wife directed you in a promo or p.s.a. or something like twelve years ago" I blurted out of nowhere. "What's your wife's name?" Brad asked. "Eileen" I said. "Yeah, I remember her, she was super cool and funny, and really helped me relax, I hadn't had much experience doing stuff like that. Tell her 'Hi'" he said. I mentioned what she was up to now as far as work went, asked why the hell he was in L.A. (implying "why are you surfing gutless slop, when you've surfed some of the biggest waves on the planet?") and then, I think Bradley and I were best friends... uh no.
I ended up talking to the guy on the green and yellow board too, Davey I think his name was. We discussed the equipment we were riding, and he yelled out to Brad "you used to ride Surf Rx boards, right?" Brad answered back " yeah, Doc is cool and very creative".
Davey soon after hooted me into a decent 3 footer. I was right in the right spot, a bit tired, I hopped up with my leash caught between my toes on my front foot. I did a wheelie bottom turn (not cool, in case the non-surfer readers are still reading), totally flailing, I tried to recover, but shot the board toward the lip and fell. Brad saw the whole thing. Man I suck.
It got windy and eventually we all went in.

Gerr is pictured below on a wave measured at 68ft, which enabled him to win Billabong's XXL contest
I am pictured below on a wave measured at 3ft, which enabled me to achieve nothing really, except maybe the thrill of surfing... which is tremendous actually.