Sunday, April 22, 2012


I was going to post a picture of the actual death, but that might freak out the reader. (If there are readers). I was up at the house my dad owned, where she lived after his death. I used to refer to her as my dad's widow. We had a lot of troubles, her spending, complete disregard for peoples respect, condescending, manipulative, etc... I had made my peace with her over the last year and we began to discuss how she was going to die soon, she knew it and wanted to make sure that things were taken care of..they were, and she died on Friday. (a little woo-hoo). SO, the real fun begins of cleaning out all her shit that she thought defined her, which was really all the stuff my dad did, it's what she had done for years. A person told me years ago to, "watch your back around her." I have. Sorry back to the find, I lived in Oregon for about 4 years, some of the best surf of my life. (No, actually it's the worst surf, make sure you never go there). This box comes crashing down and something breaks, doesn't really faze me, cause if I haven't seen it in this long, oh well. What fell out of the box was a beer mug from the Rotary Club (where I was a bartender to make some extra coin), and this picture. Non surfers wonder why surfers can stare at a picture like this for hours... This picture brought back the memories of the Brookings Surf Club- Bix, Jon, Bill, Hansens.. Driving into the lot and seeing tourists looking at a perfect three days of this and nobody wanting to sit on the beach and catch some on film. I finally got a few shots from Steve, who had hurt his ankle on a solid off the top...wahhhhh, "hey take my picture." One picture brings back a few memories stuffed away in a box of 1983.

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