Sometime ago, I heard the funniest thing.

There was this cute chubby Chinese boy who wasn’t exactly a Kelly Slater, but he was able to catch some and trim ok, and seem to just really enjoy himself. He would be out there almost as much as me. Anyway, he shortboards, wears a red/black rashguard, and sports a comical smile with his eyes.

In between sets, he told me about the other day— well… telling does no justice and is not the right word to describe his storytelling because he not only spoke with his mouth, but he somehow incorporated his entire body in his retelling.

With his hands, head, shoulders, torso, and submerged legs he told me how Saturday was “THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFEEEEE! IT WAS SOOO GOOOD.”

I haven’t heard that much stoke in such a long time that instead of laughing at him for being so exaggerated, I just smiled because I knew exactly what he was feeling and talking about.

“…yeah, so it was like the best day of my life!,” he half-screamed again.

“The best day of your life… so far,” I said. But he didn’t hear me. He was still drowning in his own private flashbacks.

That winter, the weather began to flex his muscles and gave us a free show by pissing rain and huffing ungodly wind conditions. So for lack of nothing better to do since there wasn’t any wood to play with (as in old furniture and my new found interest in refinishing them) I resorted to something I stopped doing once I was no longer being graded for it— reading.

Anyway, I came across an old coffee table surf book I bought from The Contemporary Museum above Makiki, which was signed (he had a photo in the book) by Shaun Tomson and his lovely South African accent, who happened be right behind me at the cash register (true story).

I couldn’t help but feel so much gayness, as in exceptional happiness, when I stumbled upon a page that described exactly the same feeling that chubby boy had about his waves and best day. The stoked boy this time was no other than reigning super surfer of the universe, Kelly Slater. Everybody gets stoked.

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