A Very HHG Jewishy Christmas in New England

Shaped, Glassed, Wrapped in Northern California.

Unwrapped, Jumped On in New England.

Intracontinentally stoked.

This year's  Headhighglassy Kind-of-Jewish Christmas in New England Tour saw much family, much stoke, a few alarmingly underheated homes, rain, snow, high winds, freezing temps, freezing rain, freezing snow, and enough fine bourbon to fill every bathtub in the fine state of Kentucky. The highlight was my eleven-year-old niece's first custom shred stick, ready to rip NC waves with the unfiltered stoke of an eighty-pound ten-year-old girl.
Of course, back home the local beachbreak has been pumping. The weather, according to the local paper, has been 'epic' both at the beach and inland. The sandbars, previously as unruly as a cowlick, have smoothed into shape.
Still, it's nice to be swathed in down and wool, drinking steaming mugs of hot tea while the gray light outside fades and my girls gorge themselves on My Little Ponies, which Santalah Clausenberg knew would keep four and six-year-old girls occupied for hours without interruption--long enough for the grownups to pull another tiny dog onto our laps and sample some more fine bourbon.
I took a brief hiatus from shaping in late 2013 to work on some other stuff, including my website, which can be found right here.  I still don't know how to feel about it, but it was time and makes things a bit more simple, and what could be better than simple?
Other highlights include talking to tiny dogs in New York accents, storing perishables in cars (!) when there's no more room in the fridge, complete Rainbow Loom takeover, debating the current existence of Megaladon with a fourth grader, catching my seventy-year-old parents grabbing each others' asses in the kitchen, and watching kids fall over in snow. Doesn't get much better than that.
Anyway, here's some more pics of an 8'0 Broadsword in some snow.

 Happy New Year!

All Clear

Cha-Ching! Paul gets to cash in his Sandwich Club Card with the receipt of this sleek 6'0 double-wing MiniSimmons. It's got a slight arc tail, a cedar stringer that made my shop smell like barbecue for a few days, and is super shiny.

If I had just aquired my sixth board, I'd go for a General Washington: an off-the-menu #98 with fried chicken substitited for halal chicken on Ike's own (non roof-of-the-mouth-destroying) dutch crunch. Good lord!

I hope Paul doesn't order a Lizzy's Lips (halal chicken, italian dressing, pepperjack). Not because the of the sandwich, which sounds awesome, but because Lizzy is my sister's name and that would be weird.

This board can be ridden as a four fin or three fin. I recommend pairing it with some waves, a little wax to make your feet stick to the board, and a nice dram of Templeton Rye. Even though it's from Iowa and not upstate NY, this is one hell of a whiskey. Honey and vanilla give way to crisp mint and wintergreen. Makes me wonder why I used to waste valuable drinking time mixing in vermouth and bitters. Perfect on a cold night, a warm night, a mild night, or during a hockey game. 

6'4 Clover: All Hallows' Edition

How did the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, a necessary practice for warding off ghosts and evil spirits, morph into modern day Halloween?
Beats me, but I do know this: my girls have been in an H-day fervor for the last week, blasting through so many princess-with-wings variations that my living room looks like the Disney Corporation mid orgy with an Oregon wiccan solstice festival. A whole new world!

Halloween, believe it or not, can also be a time for reflection as we wave goodbye to summer and hesitatingly hold the door open the door as winter, sad boots and all, trudges in.

This 6'4 Clover for local shred artist and rad dad Lucas has enough volume for summer, but enough rocker and fin snap to carry him into the more light-challenged months ahead.
True Story: I'd been shaping this model for over a year when Lucas ordered his. Deep in a creative fervor, I had coined the shape the 'widepoint-forward pulled-tail egg'. Lucas was cool with that, and only asked that a include his graphic with daughter's name, Clover, on the deck of the board.
It was referred to as the Clover Board at the glasser (Patrick at Northern Light, who did a bang-up job, as usual), and then again by board fondlers when they saw it in my shop. It stuck.

Here, local shredmaster and two-wheeler enthusiast Joey tries to get a little fresh with Lucas' new board. The golden light and his long shadow are clearly mid summer, the venue clearly the Toad in the Hole pub. Fresh new stick, long sun-drenched days, and a few pints of Lagunitas IPA (also handmade in Sonoma County!). Not a bad way to be.
ps--see that unbelievable two-tone '68 bus in the background? Mine's the '06 minivan parked to its left...

Lids Part Deux

The road to hell may be paved with trucker hats, but you’ll definitely need one when you arrive—it looks pretty bright down there!

Since my last run of hats a few years ago, I’ve been working with Tommie at Dedicate Brand to put something together that would satisfy even my toughest customer (Craig, who, now that I think about it, is kind of a dick). Tommie’s got the connections and set me to work product testing up here in Sonoma County, on the East Coast, and in Ames, Iowa with a guy he only refers to as ‘Corntooth’.

I recorded scads of promising feedback like, “this is nice,” and “it kept the sun out of my eyes,” and, “I probably shouldn’t be throwing up into your hat right now.”

I incorporated criticism like, “my dog stole that hat and licked it under my bed for three hours,” and, “nobody with a mustache and that hat is allowed in the jumpy castle.”

Sewn-on Patches+Pinot Noir=Classy

As you can see, I applied the same rigorous, user-generated feedback with these hats as I do with every surfboard that leaves my shop.

And it shows in the results. I’ve got three different shades of blue. Buy them all and tell your friends, “I’ve got the blues.” When they ask, “what the hell are you talking about?” shriek, “Are you saying I’m fat?”

I’ve got a grey that states, “this hat is fifty shades of awesome! Also, I wouldn’t mind getting spanked right now.”

And a brown that claims, “I work for UPS…psyche! I actually shred my sack off in pumping surf.”
Interested parties should email me. Then send me $25. Then I'll send you a hat of your color choice and a hilarious note scribed onto a piece of scrap paper that says something wildly sardonic like Thank You! Or, if I'm feeling the whole brevity thing, Thanks!

Clover XL

The government may be shut down, but damn if Boehner can stop the stoke!

Here's an XL Clover for Central Coast ripper Jonathan (the 'J' is pronounced like a 'Y,' as his origins are definitely Viking). He's a big dude, so he gets a big Clover. Hence the Custom in Custom Surfboards.

Every once in a while, Le 'Stache lets me carve one out in his shaping room. Sometimes he offers feedback, like, "yeah!" or, "fun one!" or, "how much longer is this going to take?" or, "you're going to have to put on some pants if you want to continue shaping here."

This Clover is 8'0 and nearly 23" wide. I can barely carry it, but Jonathan's arms are Paul Bunyan to my Woody Allen, and he'll be able to throw this thing around like he just caught it kissing his sister.
It's gonna have three fins.

Paddle Baddles

It's that time again!

The annual Bluewater Paddle Race on Bodega Bay. This year, the event's fourth, promises to be a good one: bluebird skies and low winds on tap, playful-sized swell in the water for pre and post paddle shredding, and a healthy roster of in-form competitors.
So sign up or just show up with the family, dog, neighbor, neighbor's family or kid or dog, whatever. This is a great community event and rare get-together opportunity for Northcoast surf enthusiasts. Proceeds go to keeping our bluewater blue.
You can find out more information, prize lists, and signups by clicking HERE.
Hope to see you there.

Showerbeers Bronson

Last year I had a kid in class named Norbert. It was difficult for me to imagine an exhausted, overjoyed couple gazing down at the just-born, tiny naked ball of energy of their new baby boy and whispering Norbert...Norbert...Norbert...into his crackly pink ears.
We called him Bert, but still.

Same thing with new Sandwich Clubber Showerbeers Bonaparte. Whatever possessed the Bonapartes, flush with the excitement and stupor of childbirth, to gaze into their tiny boy's dark eyes and say Showerbeers, is not up to us to decide. Naming is every parent's right, but, unfortunately, they don't have to live a lifetime in the shoes of Norbert. Or Showerbeers. Or anyone named Richard that they insist on calling Dick.

Fortunately, Showerbeers has overcome this particular linguistic handicap, and has made those who know him proud. He finished law school without too much drama, has a healthy fan relationship with 80s cinematic masterpiece Cocktail, and is the proud new owner of a sweet new 8'6, rounded-pinnie Bronson.

Two-plus-one fin setup with a shreddy flexie in the middle, two-tone color lamination by the boys at Almar Glassworks, too-legit-to-quit Bronson radness.
If you note Showerbeers ripping his new sled in the greater Los Angeles area waters, or note this Bronson strapped to the roof of a diesel Bendzo in hot pursuit of a speeding ambulance, throw him a shaka!