Cocaine + Surfing: A Sordid History of Surfing's Greatest Love Affair by Chas Smith

Author:Chas Smith [Smith, Chas]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Non-Fiction, History, Sports, Surfing, Narcotics, Drugs
ISBN: 9781947856745
Publisher: Rare Bird Books
Published: 2018-06-11T20:01:47+00:00

10

The Ultimate Boon!

Laguna Beach at sunset is unparalleled in its beauty. Oh, sure, the MTV show Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County did its best to destroy any vestige of beauty hidden in the sleepy Orange County cockles, and maybe the Fox show The O.C. did it worse even though that one mostly pilloried Newport Beach instead of Laguna. Do you remember those? Lauren Conrad and Mischa Barton? Son of a bitch, but still. When the sun starts its slide down the sky and lights the hills and lights the air and lights the spirit, it is the most beautiful place on earth.

I pause, check my phone, then stare at the ocean for a minute watching the sun dancing on the waves, turning red, orange, yellow. The warm breeze smells like jasmine, coconut oil, and surf wax. A pelican glides low, almost touching the water with its magnificent wings. New Audis drive both north and south on the Pacific Coast Highway. It is a strange thing about Orange County, a geographical oddity. Billionaires who live here drive new Audis. A6s, A8s, Q7s. The poorest who live here drive new Audis. A4s, A6s, Q7s. A very strange thing. Orange County has flattened wealth, drained all nuance from class stratification. Some of the richest people in the United States dwell behind the Orange Curtain and it is impossible to tell them apart from some of the most middle-class people in the United States and even some people who are properly poor, or as poor as someone can be in Orange County. It might sound nice, like an egalitarian paradise, but have you ever been? There is something very off about it. Very wrong. And if you don’t believe me, watch reruns of Laguna Beach. Watch Lauren Conrad and her friends live completely monotone, without any nuance or even so much as a hint of it.

I’m thinking about Lauren Conrad and her friends while watching the sun sink farther and farther, but also thinking about cocaine and checking my phone, again, when the heckling starts. “Hey, bro. You gonna go shred? Sick. I bet you shred sick.” I turn around ready to get angry but see a pack of the raddest ten-year-olds on earth hanging over a rail, looking at me. Blonde hair hanging over eyes. Each one blonder than the last, severely tanned heads with razor- sharp neck tan lines even though it is summer. Brand-new sparkling white Former T-shirts. One is wearing a beanie at peak jaunty. The surfed-out Orange County preteen sits at the very top of any social pecking order, so flawless in game that even Ragnar Lodbrok would wilt beneath the laser of his attention.

I panic and run into the nearby Laguna Surf and Sport without thinking. To a place even more pressure-filled than the mean streets, or at least a place that used to be. The California surf shop was once a bastion of all things cool. The boards, the trunks, the clothes, board bags, magazines, VHS surf videos, Lagwagon soundtrack, and especially the shop workers.

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