Hey All, New Jersey surf-world godfather Cecil Lear died last month at 91. Lear cofounded the Eastern Surfing Association, which from the jump was a better-organized, more popular, higher-functioning version of the better-known Western Surfing Association—or any other surfing organization, pro or amateur, worldwide. This had a lot to do with Lear himself. He was a surfing late-comer (much to be s...
Hey All, The History of Surfing chapter on surf shops is called “Houses of the Holy,” which I stole from a SURFER article title, and SURFER of course stole it from Led Zeppelin—and apologies, folks, but we’re going straight to sidebars. First, my opinion of Led Zeppelin is a tiny bit lower for the fact that the song “Houses of the Holy” is not on the Houses of the Holy album—at some tender bong-w...
Hey All, The 2021 EOS fundraiser was a middling success right up until Christmas Eve, when Surfing Heritage and Culture Center cofounder Dick Metz dropped ten large into the pot, pushing the total north of $45K, at which point the drive cross-stepped from middling to excellent. Folks, 2022 is funded. Operation Headless is taking place as we speak. To all the EOS donors and subscribers—thank you...
Hey All, Circling back to that teasing “Pipeline Pioneers” clip of Nancy Nelson and a dark-haired regularfooter (either Martha or Anella Sunn; more on that in an upcoming Joint), I was reminded that Candy Calhoun, our broad-shouldered Athena of Laguna Beach, had bodysurfed Pipe even earlier—way back in 1963, and here is Candy’s first-person account of that experience. “My last ride was the best,”...
Hey All, Jacobs Surfboards was located at the southernmost end of Hermosa Beach's "Miracle Mile" of surf shops, which meant that if you came down from Manhattan Beach and were hopscotching Pacific Coast Highway with the intention of hitting 'em all in order—Bing, Rick, Noll, Weber and Jacobs—you were saving the best for last. Steve Pezman called Jacobs the "Notre Dame Cathedral" of surf shops, wh...
Hey All, For 150 years, creative people of every description have climbed into the ring hoping to pin surfing and its swirling blue je ne sais quoi to the mat for all to see. And for 150 years, with few exceptions, the creatives have been defeated. Surfing body-slammed Paul Theroux last year, and his literal reputation remains in ICU. Jack London came in swinging like a windmill but never connect...
Hey All, A pie chart showing how I occupied my waking hours last week would be two-thirds green, for time spent bumping and grinding on the EOS Fundraiser, and one-third solid gold, for time spent watching and thinking about Get Back, Peter Jackson's three-part eight-hour Beatles documentary, the manifest riches of which have rendered my descriptive powers null and void. What an achievement. Jac...
Hey All, To everybody who subscribed to Encyclopedia of Surfing this past week and are now receiving a fundraiser notice as your very first communication from me — apologies. EOS does just one fundraiser each year, and we have arrived at that moment. There are 165 Sunday Joints posted on the site, and I encourage newcomers to binge on those first. Then come back here, read on, and hopefully make ...
Hey All, The 12-year-old who memorized stats for the entire Lakers lineup during their turbocharged run to the 1972 NBA title, which included 69 regular-season wins (nice), grew up to become the silver-muzzled adult who now sits before you, creating lists on power surfers, the highest moments in surf cinema, and the most advanced wave-riders of all time. With almost-believable humility, I will sa...
Hey All, New Yorker film critic Pauline Kael was a little before my time, but she was funny and vicious and smart without lording it over the rest of us, and bullwhipped her way through the New Hollywood era with tremendous style and wit. This intro from an Observer profile sums Kael up nicely. In 1974, six years into her 23-year tenure as a New Yorker film critic, Pauline Kael’s negative review...