Editor’s Note: This piece was originally published on Jon’s blog, RaisingaGrommet.wordpress.com.
Just go. I highly doubt you’ll regret it. Photo: Laylan Connelly
I began surfing when I was 12. It all started with a trip to Honolulu, a session at Waikiki, a $10 board at my neighbor’s garage sale, and a weekly lift to the beach from my folks. I got to surf once a week. It was every Saturday and that was it. At the time, it was never about the swell, conditions, crowds, water quality, or weather. I was a kid who got to surf once a week, and I made sure to take what I could get when I could can take it. This was precisely the type of message I wished to impart on my children as a new father, regardless of their interests. This was my situation and I would certainly love for my son to be in the water whenever possible.
The year was 1995, and I used to call 550-INFO for the surf forecast. 976-SURF, which was Surfline at the time, charged fifty cents for a lousy report, so my parents kindly asked my buddies and me never to call them again, as we had a tendency to call multiple times a day just to see if anything had changed.
Our favorite time to call, however, was when we rang them up on the days we actually got to surf. It was never a matter of whether or not to go, it was just our frothing pre-surf ritual. If it was flat, we’d still go. If it was raining and the bacteria levels were through the roof, we’d still go. If it was double overhead and completely maxed out, we’d go get pounded. It didn’t matter what the pre-recorded voice said. We were out there.
Days out of the water were spent studying Good Times. It was a VHS and it was the only video we had. We’d watch it over and over and over again. And then once more. It never got old. I’ll never forget the day we discovered the secret section at the end. It was like we had discovered a new planet. It was three more minutes of Taylor Steele’s finest footage for us to analyze, and my friends and I were a frothing bunch on the awesome find.
As soon as we’d had enough and we couldn’t keep our little grommet energy bottled any longer, we’d go skate. We’d cruise up and down the driveways on my block, giving it every ounce of speed, style, and flow that our little legs could muster up. That was how we trained. That was what we did to be sure we were ready for the real thing, come Saturday.
Kai’s never concerned about the water temp or whether or not the sun is out. He just wants to get out there.
That level of stoke is difficult to understand as an adult. I like to believe I’ve still got it, and that it patiently waits in an easily accessible part of my soul. But it’s tough to say. There are so many other variables that constantly flood my daily life that the true and pure “grommet stoke” gets pushed to the back.
The coolest part about being a new dad is seeing that very same stoke in my little kid’s eyes. My son gets stoked on the same tiny little things that I used to. That energy is highly contagious and I often find myself smiling at something that I hadn’t noticed in twenty years. Those moments are pretty cool, and I do my best to wallow in them as often as I can. That is, forget everything else for just a moment and take it all in.
My point is simple: just go. Always go. You may not remember the session or any of the waves you caught, but at least you went. I highly doubt you regret it. What you will regret is not going and later finding out that it actually was fun. Forget about what the forecast says. Your 12-year-old self would slap you across the face if they knew you were going to bail on surfing today because the conditions aren’t ideal. Just go.
Follow Jon and his son on Instagram @jk_perino and keep tabs on#whatkailearnedtoday for daily lessons learned by the tiny little grommet in the photo above.
