So what do you do when you’re feeling barn sour?
It’s summer and it’s California, and that means that the beach areas are crowded. Do you really want to go there?
IT DEPENDS ON THE NATURE OF THE CROWDS.
I am not a surfer, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t hang out at the beach and watch others surf. It’s Southern California, land of the endless summer.
This is Ocean Beach (Near San Diego, CA) – and yes, Old NFO, Euripides and Lone Star Parson this is what you’re missing.
I’ve defined the mission, I’ve defined the location and while in Ocean Beach, across from the pier, the best place to sit is at Hodad’s and watch the people go by, if you’re not swimming, which I did before going to Hodad’s. Race Bannon (famous blogger and work-out maven) would be proud of the work-out but not proud of what it led to…Brighid and Jenny (more famous bloggers than Race) would have been ashamed of me for my weakness…BUT
Hodad’s is not for the weak of constitution and if you plan to live forever, I recommend that you don’t go. I’m serious. It’s one of those dive hamburger joints next to the beach where the food will make your arteries crackle (snap, crackle and pop) if you don’t exercise by swimming or running first. Even if you do exercise, first and you’re as hungry as an arctic wolf, this isn’t a California green tea, herb grass and tofu joint.
And then there’s the line. There’s almost always a line to get into Hodad’s and the place is very small inside (but infinitely cool).
I spent a piece of my life in San Diego in and around the ocean and when I want to reconnect with my roots, I feel like a salmon, returning to the stream. No, I didn’t go to the beach or to Hodad’s to spawn. The surfer blonde above is just a random surfer blonde.
When you sit down at Hodad’s, since the place is packed, you end up sitting next to random people. That’s part of the charm of the place. Since you’re all eating cheeseburgers, there is no real food envy involved. The food is “BIG FOOD”. You all know that you’re shortening your miserable lives. It’s a shared experience.
There was a Gucci biker crowd (overweight bean counters, consultants and attorneys on Harleys with their blousey women – out wishing they were cool enough to be REAL bikers) there to be seen with the cool people and I ended up sharing a table with some of them. Yes, people share tables there. In my case, I simply Bogarted my way in – but it’s part of Hodad’s etiquette. I suspect that the guys didn’t like the idea of a just-from-the -ocean guy sitting next to them, dripping slightly on the the bench next to their Armani leather breaches. But the women didn’t seem to mind. And as an alpha male type, I really don’t care what the wanna-be biker lawyers and CPA’s think. Ya know?
What did I want? I wanted the hurtling moons of Barsoom. I wanted Storisende and Poictesme, and Holmes shaking me awake to tell me, “The games’ afoot!” I wanted to float down the Mississippi on a raft and elude a mob in company with the Duke of Bilgewater and the Lost Dauphin. I wanted Prester John and Excalibur held by a moon-white arm out of a silent lake. I wanted to sail with Ulysses and with Tros of Samothrace and eat the lotus in a land that seemed always afternoon. I wanted the feeling of romance and the sense of wonder I had known as a kid. I wanted the world to be what they had promised me it was going to be — instead of the tawdry, lousy, fouled-up mess it is.
And because of blogs, you’re now sharing the day.