So it was, like 28 degrees and foggy outside. The type of weather that saps the soul, chills the bone, and depletes the will to get through the day. I stepped out of a coffee place, and→[More:] down in the weeds I found the above-pictured cassette tape.

Visions of sun, surf, carefree driving came to mind. I immediately felt warmer, as if I was no longer in the midst of this barren, grey, frigid landscape.

Later on, I PLAYED it. The joy went right back out of me. What crap. What drivel. Today, kids with Garage Band could do better.

And I remembered that there are not two girls for every boy (and if there were, they'd find out about each other and get their period at the same time and stuff), that one can, and should, slow down through Dead Man's Curve, and that if I strapped my board to my back and hitched a ride in my wetsuit, I would soon end up robbed and naked on the side of the road.

And don't get me started on the melanoma stuff.

So I sent it to my friend in Kona (also a musician and a surfer), telling him to give it a listen and then toss it out of his woody into the weeds along Alii Drive.

Carry on.