JULY 4th On the way to "No Way 'Nofre!"
YOU COULD FEEL IT IN THE AIR. THINGS AIN'T RIGHT.
Maybe it's weather, maybe it's gas prices, maybe it's
exorbitant Beach Entrance Fees. Who knows, at least they're
not beheading anyone. First stop, Starbucks in town, for a
extra sweet cafe latte and day old zucchini muffin ($9.50).
Freeway finally empty, there ain't gonna'be no line, maybe
Ranger Ephriam and SOSC BOD should thank Gov.Arnold for
jacking prices to $10.00 in his target price of $20.00 by
1/1/2005. I wish it was the mid-twenties when Blake,
"Duke", Whitey, Freeth, and all the gang were here. No
hideous bamboo patch, concrete block cesspopol toilets,
volley courts, home-made rickety picnic tables, trashy
looking creosote soaked telephone pole logs, none of that
garbage the hoi-paloi think is trendy. There never was any
surfers here, now it's pathetic, sorta like L.A.Centro.
Dogs on twenty-five foot leashes outnumber the cell phone
users, who stand in the middle of the dusty, rock filled,
filthy, "prehistoric dirt road" talking real loud,
gesticulating with stupid hands. It reminds me of the
Santa Ana garmet district. Surfing is over at 'Nofre forever.
Oops, I forgot our Club Luau is right around the corner.
TUBESTEAK/THE.FAT.LADY.SINGS