Yesterday we went down the beach and watched the trials, which was cool, and then Jimmy Jazz set up a camera on the veranda and I interviewed all the dudes here at Rocky Pointe house. It was pretty fun, and definitely not your average batch of surf interviews. Hopefully we’ll have that cut and ready by Friday, but I’m not sure when it’ll be scheduled to run on the site; definitely soon. Anyway, keep your eyes peeled for that; it’ll be a treat.
When the interviews were done, Alex and Ellis left for the airport because there were waves in California or something. I’m not sure what the deal was, but they’ve bounced, and Ellis’ enormous, palatial bedroom became available. Tom scored it. He’d been sleeping in this weird little attic room that you accessed via a closet, so he was happy to move into the big room and get some extra Aloha vibes.
Later that afternoon we went over to the OTW house for a C.P.R. clinic conducted by the local lifeguards. I have to admit, the idea of a C.P.R. clinic didn’t get me jumping up and down on the spot, but I’m super glad I went–I learned that you no longer do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Did you know that had been phased out? Me neither. Nowadays when someone has had an accident and becomes unconscious, you slap them around to see if they slap you back, then, if they don’t respond, you call 911, put your phone on speaker, place it on the ground, then put one hand over the other and pump the center of the dying dude’s chest twice every second. You put your body into it too, don’t sweat about breaking ribs–ribs heal, death doesn’t. There were dummies and everyone paired up and had a go at reviving a casualty. I was lucky enough to be partnered up Imogen Caldwell, whose work with the defibrillator saved our victim from the hopelessly arrhythmic chest pumps I was doing. If you get the opportunity to take one of these clinics I suggest you do; it’s pretty amazing how much difference a little knowledge can make in a life and death situation. Glad I went.
After the clinic, I took a long, scenic walk down the beach back to the house. It was very nice, and hopefully an onlooker got a photo and wrote a positive affirmation down the bottom of it. At the house, I tried to talk Toby into going to get pizza. ‘I’ll pay for it if you go out and get it.’ Toby wasn’t interested. Then Jimmy and Tom got back and I tried it out on them. Nope. Then Shane and two of his little mates (these guys are15 year-olds) showed up and they were totally down to take my twenty bucks and get pizza if they could split it with me. ‘I wouldn’t do that, brother,’ cautioned Jimmy. The twenty hovered between hands. ‘Why, Jimmy?’ I said. Jimmy shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t trust these infant sketch-pimps with my money.’ Shane and his buddies began bleating about how they weren’t sketch-pimps, they were good honest citizens, and I fell on the floor and stopped breathing because, whether Jimmy knew it or not, he’d just said the funniest thing of 2014: sketch-pimp.
After a quick trustworthiness quiz, the little sketch-pimps took my money (and Tom’s, he wanted pizza too) and pissed off into the Hawaiian night. Then we noticed twenty cans had gone missing from the fridge…then we discussed how uncharacteristically confident and talkative the otherwise bashful little sketch-pimps had been… An hour passed and there was no sign of pizza. We came up with the not-so-paranoid theory that they had fucked off with our money to go buy candy, whistles, balloons, and pencils. ‘I told you they were sketch-pimps,’ said Jimmy. We were about to set out and find them when they bounced in the front door with our dinner. Apparently there had been a long line at the pizza spot. Jimmy wasn’t convinced. After we’d eaten and the sketch-pimps had buggered off again, he postulated that the boys had gone all the way to Food Land, bought a couple of $3 frozen pizzas, cooked them up, dug pizza boxes out of a trashcan, and made themselves a sweet profit.
After that there was much beer drinking and buffoonery and I hit the sack. Knackered.
Tomorrow: comp called off on account of the waves being a bit weird, so who knows what’ll happen.