Pit Boss: know when to hold 'em

Much like its namesake in the casino, the Pit Boss keeps things in check when the dealing gets rough.

This one's loaded: five fins, red cedar stringer, and handsome coke-bottle resin tint with matching resin pinline by Leslie Anderson.
Stands a proud 6'10".

Clive Owen, who attempts to pull a fast one on his pit boss in the excellent Croupier, stands seven-and-a-half inches shorter.

Russell Crowe, a Roman style pit boss in the gladiator ring, is a mere 5'11". A board this size would not keep things in check when the dealing got rough.
At least not up here, even if you were wearing leather danglies from your waistbelt.

Bamboo glasson fins by the talented craftsman Marlin at the 101FinCo.

This Pit Boss got a tour of my house after I received several expressive emails from a surfy French buddy informing me that wood floor photos of surfboards had become cliche in the SurfBlogoShpere. Who knew?

The Perfect Sandwich

Start with one newly-polished slice of coke-bottle tinted longboard deck.
Slowly add (might want to ask the kids to leave the room at this point) Neil Diamond's 1973 Hot August Nights album cover. It won a Grammy, so you know it's good.
Do not substitute other celebrated 1973 albums, such as Carly Simon's No Secrets or David Cassidy's ironically titled, Rock Me Baby.
In a pinch, The Who's Quadraphenia or Stevie Wonder's Innervisions will do.
Top with another slice of coke-bottle longboard deck from a different angle, this one highlighting what appears to be a dirty tailblock. I don't know what's on the floor of Fatty's shop, but I suggest wearing shoes.

A Coke-Bottle and a Smile

Happens every year: winter dips its icy toe into our north Pacific waters, stirs it around a bit, and nods its head--it's time.
Then, much like our beleaguered president, summer speaks up and claims itself "still relevant." We get a fun blast of late-season south swell, play like dolphins for days, then put away our summer boards, still wet, with smiles on our faces.
Some among us, however, refuse to believe that it's over. These nonbelievers carefully rinse out their 4/3 (or even 3/2!) wetsuits and hang them up to dry in the waning, anemic sunlight. They pretend it's not frost they're scraping off their windshields in the morning, just excrement from some summery bug inhabiting the tree above their parking space. That it's not woodsmoke pouring forth from their neighbors' chimneys at night, just an unfortunate draft from their backyard BBQ.
And they order fishes in November.
Nathan is one of these people. Delusional. He's been known to paddle his quad fish into some serious winter surf, and then carve some serious lines. So serious, in fact, that those watching will unconsciously wish they chose their sandals instead of their Uggs. They'll check their watches and believe, just for a moment, that it's not going to get dark until 9pm, and they still have plenty of time to stop by the store to pick up some shrimp for the grill...