Smoke This

I like it when they go from this:

To this:

To this!

Deep blue 7'6 Bonzer for local shred-and-jazz enthusiast Guitar Jim.

This is the Cigar Volant model--a hi-pro, beachbreak shreddy egg that rocks anywhere from one to five fins with joy in its sweet, foamy heart.
Resin cigar bands really tie the board/concept together.

Lotta junk in the trunk on this one.
The feels that laminators, sanders, and polishers get in their guts when they see a bonzer with e-wings and glassons come through the production line is completely canceled by the feeling the surfer gets when laying into their first fingertip-dragging, rail-burying, fully-involved bottom turn on a head-high wave. Value added!

Blues for Yous

I don’t really know what do to with this word: community (I also don’t know what to do with the word moist, though that’s for another time). It’s not a tricky one to define—from the Latin cum for together, and munus for a gift, literally translating to ‘a gift to be shared’—it’s just that the word’s spread a little thin.

We’ve heard the term Surf Community as many times as we’ve heard our other surf clichés of the moment (Kelly Slater is a ‘Freak of Nature,' as well as everything that comes out of Dave Rastavich’s mouth, such as the endlessly repeating commercial where he states, ‘I’ve been gifted the opportunity to not have a 9-5 job…’Gifted? Good Lord. He also abuses blessing, for which there is no excusing). So are we experiencingcommunity when we surf? It’s a ‘coming together’ for ‘gifts,’ but, as we know, most waves are actively and purposefully un-shared. And what if you have not only nothing in common, but different values entirely than those in the water with you? What if they're dicks, or disparage others, or applaud when Rick Perry boasts of 234 executions while he was governor of Texas? Does it negate the community experience, or is there a sub-community of surfers who have little regard for human life?

What about when we’re out of the water? If we’re not sharing waves, or coming together, are surfers still in any way a community? If not, why are we constantly being told that we are?

Sorry for so many questions on a Friday, people. My eldest started pre-school on Tuesday, and I've been vexed with thoughts of her fragility.

What if her peers look askance at her bowtie noodle lunch? What if she puts her hands into the class orange juice again? What if she's the kid with a booger sheet stashed in her desk? Today is Show and Tell, which I think should go well. Christ, I’m a mess.

What am I talking about again?

Oh yeah, ChrisTofurkeys new 7somethin Cigar Volant. The young buck’s chasing down a sandwich with the same intensity he applies to beard growing and shredding barefoot on leashless logs in Northen California beachbreak. Dude’s committed is what I’m saying.

How much more blueberry can it get?

None more blueberry.

Cult of the Curve

Last Wednesday, scientists unveiled a 35,000 year old carving believed to be the world’s oldest known sculpture of the human form. The ivory figure, found in fragments in a German cave, depicts a woman whose exaggerated features (the Associated Press deemed the sculpture ‘busty’) are curvier than a roomful of shoestring fries.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: straight lines offer little sensual satisfaction to the human mind. Curves are a whole different story. As evidence, I give you Larry Bird’s legs.
There are very few websites dedicated to Larry Bird’s legs. Larry Bird will never have to insure his legs in case something dreadful should happen to them.
On the other hand, I present to you the stunning gams of Post-Neanderthal German Cave Lady--check out these stems!
Anthropologists now believe that early humans experienced a genetic mutation or neurological leap that caused an explosion of language and culture.
The first sign of this explosion?
Curved figures.
What is it about curves that excite us so? I have ideas, but who cares. If it weren’t for curves, I wouldn’t go into my cave every day, carving away at more modern ivory sculptures. And you, gentle curve enthusiast, wouldn’t be here either, reading about the freaky gene that draws you to a curved form over a straight one, waiting patiently for some non-straight lines so that you can go about your day a bit more reasonably.
This curvy 6' beachbreak speed egg (mini Cigare Volant model, for those keeping score) is for NorCal stoker, bike and skateboard enthusiast, and talented writer/photographer Eric. It will be equipped with five bamboo fins, then unleashed on our not-so-gentle waters. He's just the man for the job, genetic mutation and all.

Le Flying Cigare

On October 28th, 1954, the French grape-growing hamlet of Chateauneuf-du-Pape passed a law forbidding any type of cigare volant, or flying cigar, from landing in any vineyard. Article one of the decree states: the take-off, landing, and overhead flight of the aircraft known as flying saucers, or flying cigars, whatever their nationality, are prohibited in the territory of the commune.
Up here in Northern California, the legislative vibe is a bit different from le commune, so no such law exists. This is fortunate for local surf enthusiast T, who is clearly stoked to introduce his new Cigare Volant to our chilly waters.
Full board, Martian-green opaque resin work with a cigar band complete the aesthetics of the cigare theme. The bladed-out rails, single wing in the tail, and flexie fin provide the space-age engine.
The obligatory rocker/foil check.
If you see T squirting around on his Flying Cigar along the California coast, feel free to push him of and take it for a spin. He likes to share!