The Keelhauler and I had an argument last weekend, and when he came back from his figurative walk around the block, he had acquired a surfboard. It was sticking out the sunroof of his car, actually, and he seemed a little chagrined about that.

He's been talking about learning to surf for a long time, and why not? Our friends who surf call up and invite him to go along, and we live near some of the best surf spots in the world. The waves just keep rolling in, calling his name.

I have a great picture of Al, who in a radical departure from his role as Tucson Desert Man, is wearing a wet suit and posing in front of his board. When he lived in San Francisco, he'd drive down to Santa Cruz whenever he could, to teach himself to surf. He admitted that he was "a few years beyond ideal learning age," which I guess is about ten years old, but he managed nonetheless, and frequently text-messages me from Tucson for the surf report.

Ha. That's funny--just as I wrote that, I got a text message from Al. Let's see what it says.

"Isn't it weird and scary that the elections are right around the corner? As are the Brian Wilson shows." Well, that message sums him up neatly. Al, bright and dark. Optimism in the face of the abyss. It's kind of the way I feel right now, as the radio is playing "Home Sweet Home" by Aerosmith, but I have hope that they will soon play a better song. This is a false hope, but I keep the flame alive. The next song will almost certainly be "The Wall" by Pink Floyd, or "The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys," by Traffic, or some other song that I have no interest in, but because the radio only picks up this one station and the CD player is on the blink, it's either this or the voices in my head.

And anyway, I digress. What was I talking about? Surfing. Surfing.

So, the Keelhauler bought a surfboard. I was momentarily annoyed, because collectively, we have a LOT of stuff already, and not a lot of time to deal with it. But then I ceased to be annoyed, because he was so happy about it, and how can I begrudge him something he so clearly loves? He also bought a wet suit, so I feel certain that the surfing will commence any day, now.

Anyway, he left a message about his new surfboard for our friend Moniquah, who did not call him back, but instead mentioned it in her own online diary, with the comment, "He's 35, people!" You could practically see the eye roll.

Apparently, the cut-off age for learning to surf is 34. I'm not going to tell him, though, and he looks youthful enough that probably the surf police won't check his ID, when they pull up at the shore break on their jet skis.

Also, I am not too proud to admit to a prurient interest in seeing him in that wet suit.

P.S. OK, well, first I was wrong about the next song on the radio. It was "Let's Roll," by Neil Young, but NOW they're playing Pink Floyd, but I don't know what it's called, this song they're playing. Maybe "Dirty Woman," because the central lyrical theme seems to be that the singer "needs" one. Maybe there is some kind of "rock block" thing going on, because "Home Sweet Home," "Let's Roll" and "Dirty Woman" have very similar guitar intros. I am overthinking this. I'm going outside.

Star of the day. . .Duke Kahanamoku