A local man has left the bronze zinc on from his midday surf as he moved into a big night out. It doesn't take a whole lot of effort to remove zinc post surf, but Tony made the decision to leave it on as it both marks him as a surfer to people at the bar and also gives his skin a great clear complexion. Initially Tony denied this, claiming to have forgotten to remove the zinc that was very clearly all over his face. But after a couple of 'truth tins' he was heard whispering to a friend, "Bro, it gives you confidence. Everyone can use a little bronze boost."
Instagram Is Stupid
But Rinsed Surfing Magazine is funny.
My wife and the Stab editors recently, respectively, forced me to purchase my first non-burner cell phone and begin maintaining an Instagram account.
I hate the damn phone so fucking much. It never stops beeping and chiming with nonsense I don't want to deal with. Text after text after text, jarring bullshit from which I was blessedly free back when all I had was a landline and people were forced to actually speak to me when they wanted something.
Instagram ain't much better.
Between the ocean, travel, and drugs my own life is interesting enough that I don't need to live vicariously through others. I don't care what you ate for lunch. I've already seen the sun set over the ocean ten trillion times. Selfies make you look like an idiot. No one gives a fuck about your vacation photos. The very notion of 'influencers' makes me want to fly into a foaming-at-the-mouth, middle-aged, get-off-my-lawn-you-stupid-fucking-kids rage.
There are a couple facets I can get behind. I thoroughly enjoy all the young women in various states of undress. Things that make me laugh, as few and far between as they may be, are always welcome.
I've been digging the Greenroom Times (Check out Stab x GRT's A Week in the Greenroom here) and Rinsed Surfing Magazine quite a bit. Satirical headlines in the spirit of The Onion and The Betoota Advocate. Both are good for a solid chuckle on the regular. Since the GRT already have a space here, I called up the Rinsed guys to see what they're all about.
Surfing is obviously a convoluted and complicated thing in terms of- is it a sport? Is it a hobby? Is it a passion? I read William Finnegan's book, Barbarian Days, two years ago and that got me thinking about- why do we really surf? What do we get out of it? What's your reward if you surf for, say, seventy-five years? You've been focusing your life, your work, your holidays, your family, on it. What do you get out of it? What's your end goal?
And that led up to thinking the surf industry, as a whole. It's not very self-reflective. Surfers, I think, also are not very self reflective. So we wanted to bring that voice to the table. I think that's really important.
We also wanted to highlight issues we often take as commonplace. Silly stuff, like getting aggressive in the water. Sometimes surfers need aggression, if you're surfing Pipeline of something, but if you're surfing Venice or Manly at a mushy two foot it becomes kind of ridiculous to be running some kind of priority or local system.
The two men behind Rinsed asked to remain anonymous in order to protect themselves from potential backlash wrought by poking fun at grown men playing in the ocean. It's a legitimate concern. The people who make money from the "sport" don't enjoy being the object of ridicule. Being blackballed, or having someone call your boss to bitch and moan, happens more often than it should. It's no secret that those of us who talk the most shit typically have someone else paying our bills. Spouses, parents. In some cases, both. If you're paying your own way through life you need to be cautious.
There's no real business model behind Rinsed. They sell some shirts and hoodies on their site, but prices are low and half of any profit goes to Surf Aid. Which is a nice thing to do. Even if they aren't, admittedly, selling many.
You can follow Rinsed Surfing Magazine here.