My Worst, with Mason Ho

From Stab issue 60: Learn this Hawaiian royal’s It’s compelling! Interview by Derek Rielly. My worst girlfriend: I’m not really into having girlfriends. I usually just try and ride ‘em like waves, ride ‘em as long as I can. But, I have hooked up with a few psycho girls. I used to be able to hook up with anything, make puppy eyes, whatever, I didn’t mind their attitude. I cruised with this one psychotic bitch and the next morning I woke up, seriously, and just left. I don’t know if I grew up or what, but that was that. My worst breakup: All my ex-chicks have been so cool! I’m pretty smart. Hey, yeah, no worries, I just want to see you happy. Just let me pump when you cruise at my house. I don’t got no ex-girls that don’t let me bone. My worst party: There’s this place called the Crazy Box in Town (Honolulu). It’s the sickest place. I don’t usually black out too often but every time I was going there, I’d black out, somehow. And, then I’d hear some horror story in the morning. Like, what the fuck! That’s not me, man! And that leads me into the worst… My worst hangover: Hoo! I’ve had some bad ones there at Crazy Box. I wake up at my house, on the balcony with my dog, puking, and my Dad (Pipe Master Michael Ho) laughing and saying, “I told you! Don’t drink alcohol, it’s the worst!” I thought I was killing the night before and I wake up with my three-legged dog, Hurricane. My worst contest: Oh man, I’ve had too many of those! I’m the worst! But, I sure do love ‘em! I want to make that WCT tour so fucken bad. I call that the Canvas Tour, the Art Tour, because once you’re on it you get to display everything. The other tour is such a grind! I don’t do these shore breaks! But, worst contest, right? I should say my most recent contest, probably. Virginia Beach, East Coast. I’d been going nuts training, me, my dad and Uncle Derek (1993 world champ Derek Ho). I thought I was Shane Beschen in the ‘90s. I was confident, eating good, then, frick, when I go out, dead flat. I didn’t even get a chance to catch a wave. My worst job: Me? A real job? Um. Um. I remember when I was a kid, when I was nine, I got a couple of 20-dollar bills for mowing lawns and I was so psyched to build it up I mowed every lawn up and down the North Shore. Nine years old, mowing lawns. I’ve never had a real job. My worst wave: I caught a really bad wave at Log Cabins, worst wave ever. I pulled in, the wave bottomed out, I hit my head, it sounded like the air coming out of a tyre, and now I don’t surf Logs anymore. But, I’ll surf Rockpiles (the next wave along the North Shore strip) all day, any day. My worst friend: Fuck, I’ve had a couple of friends who’ve gone bad just from drugs. I’ve had a few friends and before I know it, whoa, he’s doing ice, he’s smoking bath salts, whatever. I just handle that shit. But, it’s a good reminder not to do dope and shit. I’ve never tried gnarly, gnarly drugs. If I told you all the drugs I didn’t do, you’d say, what the fuck? A lot of my heroes were on dope. There’s a few clean ones, Slater, my Dad. But, I like the fricken gnarly guys, too. What I like to do is to act like I’m on it, walk the line right by it. Guys say, “Fuck, that’s so sick you’re on it! Here, try it!” And, I say, “I haven’t even tried this or this or this.” And, they say, “You’re almost straight edge.” And, I say, “I’m more fucked up than you in the head.” Ha! My worst fight: I’ve had a few good ones! I’ve never really gotten too beaten up, though. I like to talk it out and do it nicely, like what just happened recently at Deserts (Desert Point, Lombok, Indonesia). I don’t want no problems after. I like to be respectful. I’ll say, “I’m sorry you’re pissed, and I respect you big time, but you look down to fight and I’m down to fight, so let’s go in, fight, then shake hands and have a beer afterwards.” That’s my theory. If you’re going to fight, respect ‘em and they’ll respect you back and maybe not tag you so bad if they catch you good. If they call me a bitch, at least I tried. I’ll come in and… bang… dynamite! When I was a kid, an Aussie guy cracked me really good. We made friends ‘cause I elbowed him in the face and he was all stoked. That was on the Gold Coast. My worst cringe: Some fucken drugs, to be honest. Some heroin or fricken Ice or something that screws you up. I’m scared of that shit, f’sure. And, razor sharp reef, not reefs in general ‘cause I love reefs, but razor sharp reef. That shit makes me cringe. I’ll never snorkel at Pipe ‘cause I’m too scared to see what’s underneath. You can totally buy Stab digitally, right here, right now!