Category: AGWTSAS

A GREAT WAY TO SPEND A SATURDAY: BREAKING ROUTINE

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In the normal 9-5 world, the weekend is the holy grail. Sundays turn into Mondays, and after Monday we are already wondering where the weekend is. Saturday and Sunday’s offer most an open slate for whatever they wish to do. Whether that be have some fun, better yourself, socialize, or have some me time, there is an infinite amount of choices you can make to spend your weekend. At least for me, they are pretty predictable in a sense: there will most likely be surfing each morning, potentially a workout and a run, and the nights of recent have been hanging out with my roommates and other acquaintances. Soon enough, the nights will be occupied with debauchery and suds. I can’t tell you how long this has been my routine. Sure, throughout my career work has been on the weekends in my retail days. But this really didn’t alter my schedule. It was everything I said above, all for the most part in my local neighborhood, and any open space was consumed with some of my activities I liked- reading, writing, making beats, watching videos, sunbathing etc. 

Sometimes we need to switch it up though. It might seem hard to believe, but sometimes I don’t want to surf. I do it every morning so you could see how some days I just want to do something different (obviously this is when the waves are small or look less desirable, because my fomo for waves is still strong as ever). Take some time off and start the day a different way. You see, I think everyone needs to practice this. We often get stuck in such a rut of monotony that we don’t even notice. And a lot of times it’s not really a bad thing to be stuck in a routine. Sometimes it feels good to have that familiarity. But oftentimes I believe you gotta switch it up sooner or later. Somethings gotta go different, even if you are seriously invested in whatever you are doing. Everyone needs a break.

First thing you can do is change the activity list. It’s always nice to try something new or do something you don’t do as often as before. Whether this activity is taxing or not is up to you. Don’t read a ton? Take a morning to eat some words before breakfast. Haven’t worked out in a while? Get the body moving and see if you get hooked again. Always eat out? Try and cook every meal for fun. Just try and shock your body and mind with something you don’t do often. This is really easy and doesn’t require much effort. You can also change the setting of where you are. Spend some time with yourself and keep it low for a weekend. It’s a pretty good way to reset and feel fresh if you have been taxed. I feel like I have spoken to this subject before, but just breaking routine is a great way to spend a day off. It might be not as comfortable or regular as your normal routine, but that’s the best part. The shock. Kind of like the first dip of an ice bath. 

Whatever, wherever, or however you plan to spend that weekend: don’t’ fret. There are plenty more in the year, and it’s not like they really go away. If you spend the weekend how you usually do that’s just fine. But at least acknowledge the idea of something new.

A (NOT SO) GREAT WAY TO SPEND A SATURDAY: HUNGOVER

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Another reincarnation of an older series I wrote a couple of posts for: A Great Way to Spend a Saturday. Typically, these posts outlined the joys of having the day off and planning something extravagant, or just enjoying time outside of the house. If you are tied down with work during the week, the weekend is when you can move around and do whatever.

This time it’s the antithesis: a (not so) great way to spend a saturday. 

So this is how not to spend a Saturday. As a man approaching his quarter life crisis, I have had many Saturdays in which I would have loved to spend them a different way. DMV days, long rides in the car, consequences from the night before, or just other random happenings that can throw a wrench in your Saturday are what we are going to chop it up about. Here’s just one.

Being hungover can be very painful, or also could be not so bad. The mellow ones are not the problem. These ones are cured by coffee and a simple surf. I swear I’ve said that exact phrase in so many pieces. As a resilient young man, I should be able to shake these off quite easily. As I am growing older, it is starting to take a little more. When I was younger, the majority of my experiences with hangover were limited. Yes, I got them, but they didn’t stop me from doing much. These aren’t terrible, as they go away by noon (or they used to). Eat something good and you feel alive again (one breakfast burrito, please). And potentially be inspired to run it back the next night (now a days this is a herculean effort). 

The type of hangover I am talking about is the one that throws off your whole day. You sleep in, crawl out of bed, and do little in the first part of your day. These can turn even the most morning-centric person out there shudder at the fact of doing things (and by things, I mean even the simplest tasks). With these, it is best to try to do something. I always believed the less you did when you are experiencing a severe hangover, the longer it lingers and clouds your mind. These are the hangovers coffee and surfing do not fix. But we can always try these methods to make them slightly more minute for the time being. The quick fix. There is nothing worse than having an obligation that you have to attend with one of these hangovers. For some time it would be class on certain days in college days, but thankfully this has been limited to purely weekend days of recent. Going to class was never that hard because mine were always later so I could surf beforehand, or in some cases have ample time to shake off the night before. 

As I grow older, they only get worse. I sound like a broken record, but shudder at the memories of going out so much at school. Nights in which I wouldn’t even flinch the next morning have become a little more groggy in the AM, and the times I anticipate a hangover the next day it is twice as bad as I would have imagined. It’s like every time I need to ingest a greasy meal to feel 100% again. It’s a rough life getting closer to 25 (I am exaggerating a little). And I can imagine it’s only going to get worse. So that is one way not to spend a Saturday. I’d have to assume 95% of the eyeballs skimming through this post have been in this position.

Spending a Saturday hungover is a spend. But it depends how you look at it. If the night before was worth it, you might bask in the hangover and relive the debauchery with your friends. Plenty of times the amount of fun had justified the punishment. On the occasion it maybe didn’t live up to your expectations, I feel like this just amplifies the hangover. But it’s Saturday, and you can turn a shitty morning around if you try hard enough. Either way you splice it, we most likely get more done and have more productive Saturdays when we are not hungover. 

However, it is the weekend so it does beckon a little freedom to do nothing. And that’s just fine.

This is sometimes the icing on the cake below: thinking you will not be hungover and setting an alarm just to be woken up early and be even more hungover due to an early wakeup. That is an awful sentence.

A Great Way To Spend A Saturday: Road-tripping North

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Piggybacking off of 2 blog posts ago (if you recall, we were talking about being open-arms to change in life, and almost seeking it rather than loathing it), one great way to spend a Saturday involves getting yourself out of your normal zone. We often grow accustomed to the same routine, whether it is the weekend nightlife destination or even just the local beach. From coffee to coastline, we tend to stick with what we know. And often this can leave us in a rut. Jumping in the car and heading north or south can help us alleviate the normalities of everyday life. And there are limitless possibilities in the path you can take whether it’s north south east or west (typically I like north and south, staying coastal and avoiding being on a boat in the middle of the ocean [unless it’s in Indonesia or French Polynesia]). So what did I do this past weekend? I got out of the bubble. It is far too easy to stay put over the weekend. Usually by Friday you are cooked by the workweek, or maybe you work weekends and have to stick around. But this go around I decided it was time. I used to flee the OC scene far more often in my early California years, but now more often than not I find myself anchored down in Newport. I hit the 405 and headed north to SB. Here are the tips and tricks (applicable to any location) from a Saturday spent north of helLA. 

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Driving up

One thing that can really hinder the stoke-factor of your trip is traffic. Maybe not as big of a complication outside California, but miss-timing the traffic on a little road trip can add on hours upon hours of time in the car. While half the road trip is the time in the car with your pals, every extra hour or even couple minutes where you can be out of the car already feel like salt in an open wound. The problem especially with going north on any highway coming from Orange County is grinding out the LA portion of the drive. Time it right and cruise through it without going under 40 mph. Hit peak traffic time and prepare to be shifting between park and drive while furiously skipping through songs and checking Instagram. The tactic with avoiding traffic is dodging the prime time work commute hours. This means really early in the AM or after 7PM. If you can take the day off, cruise it between 11-3 and it’s smooth sailing. 

Morning Sip

Every great morning starts with a great cup. A bad cup of coffee can really throw your day off the rails, and dialing in coffee in an unknown area can be tougher than you think. In 2020, it is pretty easy to hop on google or yelp and search “coffee shop” and get pointed in the right direction. Still, the litmus test is the actual first sip. That first drip of joe to travel through your mouth is the real tell tale sign of a good or bad cup. Getting up and starting your morning off on the right foot is essential, so if you are in the SB area (although it is on the southern end) Lucky Llama is the zone. Owned by the son of local surfboard shaper and surf shop owner Matt Moore, this place is always busy and filled with happy customers. With delicious coffee, acai bowls, and baked treats, this is the perfect pit stop for before the sun rises or a mid morning pick me up. 

Beach Day

North of LA is cluttered with a ton of super fun surf spots to take a stab at while you are up there. From beachies to points, there’s a wave for everyone, novice to expert, goofy to regular. Whether it is a long roping point wave or a hollow punchy beach break, you can find it if you look hard enough. There is however, one wave that in particular if you are making your way up to it has a special place in most California surfers hearts. Especially if you are a regular footer. And even for some goofy footers. Rincon point is affectionately referred to as “The Queen of the Coast.” And if that doesn’t speak to the admiration of the wave, then let’s just get to the numbers. You can ride a right for up to 3/4s of a mile (maybe more, most of the time less). That’s comparable to a Jbay stint, minus the men in grey suits. If we are talking numbers, on any given weekend with swell the lineup could be littered with well over one hundred bodies, from bonafide rippers to log jammers going straight. We were talking about switching it up, so unless you regularly surf down at Trestles, there aren’t many comparable waves to Rincon in OC. And they still don’t stand a chance against the Queen on a good hair day. 

Fuel for the Day

This kind of goes off the point above. If you end up posting up on the beach at Rincon point, it’s going to be pretty hard to leave. With endless right handers and the crowd only getting thinker, being hunkered down on the beach for the long haul is a good way to maximize water time in the morning before the wind and wave warriors come in stronger and stronger. Packing light, nutrient dense, and refreshing snacks to munch on the cobbles in between run arounds is the move for an all-day surf bender. Protein bars, fruits, and lot’s of water. Maybe an extra coffee to get the paddle muscles re-awakened for another marathon sprint up the point. This will increase your time before you really need a solid lunch or meal and also help you avoid cramping. Post up with a cooler and tax it occasionally until it runs dry. When it’s empty, you know you only have a couple more laps around the point left. 

Last Bite

When you are venturing outside your usual comfort zone, it usually beckons for eating out and sampling the local flavors. Luckily, Santa Barbara has a TON of awesome eats and even better ambiance in most restaurants. However, I think there is a better way to go about finishing off a hard earned day of fun in the sun. While this can only be done if you have a couple of people you might know in the area, but eating over a friends house or a BBQ with some brews is the best way to cap off a successful day or weekend trip. Whether you grill a classic or try something new, making your own meal adds even more pride and accomplishment to already getting outside your local town and adventuring into the zones unknown. If this seems like too much trouble, finding a good place to eat in SB is easy. Just walk along or adjacent to State street in downtown SB and you’ll more often than not luck into a good bite to eat. 

Nighttime Sip

You’ve done it all today. Sucked down your morning cup of coffee. Took in your new surroundings. Hopefully got a surf in. Absorbed in a lot of vitamin D from the big bright circle in the sky. Ate a delicious dinner to help mend your sore muscles and pallets. And now the only thing left is a celebratory sud. A nice beer or two is the icing on the cake, and it tastes so much sweeter when it was worked for. As far as beers, you gotta stick with local breweries and trying beers you might not have ever had before. Just to make it easy, after you ate dinner around State street, hop in an Uber and head over to the funk zone. Whether it’s Topa Topa or Lama Dog, there are plenty of craft brew creators to pick from. Try one. Try three. Just don’t try none. Happy hunting. 

A Great Way To Spend A Sunday: Feasting

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The end of the weekend was upon us. The impending Monday was looming it’s ugly head over the group of us. It was Sunday, and the sun had set. Some had worked. Some had surfed. Some were feeling great. Most were in rough shape. As we all sat in a semi-circle on a vintage couch, it was only destiny that all of us share one last supper with each other before the first full work week of 2020 slapped us in the face. After this pow wow we would split, and potentially not reconvene until the Friday that was miles away.  I already had an idea as to which meal was coming down the pipeline. All of us in need of something that is truly a treat for our taste buds. It was a meal my roommate and I typically used as a crutch to seal off the weekend in a delicious and flavorful way. It was off the beaten path, and required a short trip in a vehicle to get to. But the fruits of the labor would be worth it. 

As we crowded around the coffee table and mapped our orders, I knew calling it in would be a real treat for the lucky friend that would pick up the phone and dial. With all sorts of unorthodox names coupled with the person on the other line may not hear you clearly, sometimes it could be a challenge. We would dread calling it in. We decided on a trade-off system in which whoever called it in would not have to go pick it up. When push came to shove, someone had finally stepped up. Luckily, he was able to pronounce all the dishes correctly and just like that our order was put in. 20 minutes, said the lady on the other side of the line. It’s on. Looking back, calling it in was an easy task. But couple being tired and hungover and any small task can feel like a Herculean effort. We would play a couple more rounds of COD before we departed for the promised land. I would join my pal as copilot to steer him in the direction of deliciousness. 

I’ve done this pickup route many times. It takes at most 10 minutes to get there, usually is just a 5 minute pickup, and then another 10 to get back. A fraction of time to get to the source of the yums and enjoy a tasty dinner. This time was a little different. Nothing was looking out of the ordinary at first. We would make it to the restaurant in the usual amount of time. No clogging on the freeway and an easy exit lead us there in no time. Upon parking and entering,I noticed there was a family sitting down and eating inside. Typically, I have never seen more than 1 family inside eating in, and this is no different. The food is so damn good, but I can’t say we don’t think it is a little weird that out of the ~10 times we have picked up food here, we have never seen more than 5 humans inside. But I digress. All I cared about was the grab and go of the dishes we ordered. 

What went sideways was the wait for the food. We would enter the restaurant, and only see the family dining. No one greeting us at the door. No one in the kitchen. It was quiet. This isn’t particularly atypical, but usually someone would hear the door and emerge from the kitchen. When no one emerged from the kitchen, we would begin to hear some noise in the kitchen. It just sounded like the chef preparing the takeout meals. Surely someone would come out to check on the table eating in a reasonable time, I assured myself. A couple minutes go by and nothing. At this point the young boy at the table was having a ball watching me take different angles to look into the kitchen and see who was there to help us. I couldn’t see anyone, and wasn’t really feeling like walking back in the kitchen, so we waited. 

By the time someone had finally came out to greet us, we had shuffled through 3 of the bizarre songs accustomed to the restaurant, I became friends with the toddler at the table eating, and the smell of spices was starting to stick to my clothes. We had never had to wait this long, but also never placed such a large order. I joked with my buddies that we should eat in, but after sitting in there I am pretty happy that someone talked us out of sitting down. Something in there just isn’t right, and it only took me sitting in there for longer than 5 minutes to notice that. Finally, the food would arrive wrapped up and plenty hot. We would pay and carefully carry the bag out from the bottom. It was a ton of food, but everyone was pretty hungry. Back onto the freeway we went and in a moments time we were back to the comfort of my home. Before we could eat, I had to retell the story of the delay and the strange intricacies of the restaurant to those who have never been. But it was time to each. 

Chicken Korma. Chicken Vindaloo. Two Tikka Masalas. Two Garlic Naans. Tons of rice. It was time for the boys to feast. A quick 10 minutes of silence would go by as we all fiercely munched down on our meals. Everyone was clearly feeling better after eating, as we all were pretty laggy and unenthusiastic the whole time leading up to this moment. Sometimes all you need is a good meal. And sometimes all you need is good company. I challenge everyone to at least once a week host a slew of your pals in one place and chow down on some good eats. Doing it on the weekend sometimes ensures comical stories from the nights on the town or days sans work. Laughs will be had, stories shared, and bellies filled. A grand end to the first weekend of 2020. 

A GREAT WAY TO SPEND A SATURDAY: DEL MAR RACETRACK

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Another series to start: I give some awesome ways to spend a Saturday, whether it’s the middle of the summer or the dead of winter. This is installation one of many.

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It was a gloomy Saturday morning. I would wake up a little dazed from the night’s debauchery that ensued. I knew I had to hustle: It was already 8:30AM and a bust day was ahead of me. I would rally my roommate and descend upon free coffee and a fun peaky chest-to-head-high session at the local watering hole. After some good wholesome fun, it was time to hop out and get into the meat and potatoes of this send Saturday (thanks Nyjah).

The game plan was chug on down to north county SD and hit the Del Mar racetrack. The game plan was to take the 1:30PM train to get down there for ~3PM. We would bet on some ponies and stick around for sunset and a set from Iration (this being my 3rd time seeing them). Sounds like a pretty fun day, eh? It is for sure a marathon, but we had a crew of relay runners ready to get the job done.

My house and I were pretty put together: we kept the pregame to a minimum and hopped in the Uber to the train station at 1 o clock. This was ideal as the station was around twenty minutes away. Also to help paint a picture, we all were clad in white pants and collared shirts. I was sans collared shirt, but was rocking white jeans and a white jean jacket. A snow white Canadian Tuxedo.

We pulled up to the station with perfect timing. We had around 5 minutes until the train would arrive. Everything was going according to plan, except for the fact all our friends were missing. Luckily for them, the train would be delayed 30 minutes, and they would arrive in time for the newly timed train. We made a friend while we waited, and him along with one of my pals walked to a nearby gas station for more booze. It was time to hop on the train. All of us would soon realize this train was far from empty.

There wasn’t a single set of seats next to each other. Some awkwardly sat next to people far less energetic than us. We would eventually all stand in a circle near the caboose of the train, in our own little zone trying to be as orderly as possible. All of us with drinks in hand, decided to kill the time being with some conversation. 1 hour did not go by fast nor slow, probably the perfect pace.

Upon exiting the train, it was time to hop on another vessel of transportation: the shuttle. It would take us from train station to track. Super easy and we got right on without waiting a single minute. Fast forward 10 minutes and we were at the gates of paradise. We would have ample amounts of time to place bets and sip drinks, which we did plenty of both. Everyone lost money, whether form one or the other. In most people’s cases: both.

We would post up in the grand stands with our heavy wrecking crew, enjoying smiles and shouts. At one point a pal and myself found ourselves in the owners box. We cheered for the horse as if it was ours, because if we didn’t the jig might have been up. It was a short-lived stint, and we scurried back to our zone as if nothing had happened. Because nothing had happened! It was hard to think guys dressed this good couldn’t be in the mix. The day would go on, and the last horse race would ring in Iration.

We made our way to one more drink and mobbed the stage for a glorious sunset. It only felt right that a concert of this vibe would have a rifling sunset behind it. The sun would set, and the darkness would ensue around the crowd. Even though the sun still was in the sky, it was a cloudy sunset. I mean, it’s a reggae concert so you knew there would be some big smoke from the rastafari’s. It comes with the territory at these types of tings.

As summer nights finished up and a few songs were left, it was time to take on the trip back. An uber of epic price proportions would be in our future, but when split between four people was almost as affordable as the train. The only downside, you might ask? No music was played and it was a long hour. I decided to pull the power move of taking a snooze, waking up right when we pulled up thanks to a nice alarm clock named Wyatt and Lucas. Inside our crib we would go, and was in my bed in less than 5 minutes. A day well spent.