GETTING BACK TO BASICS, THE BEACH is readying for the

"First Ever Annual Ocean Tryouts" to be held July 4th, 2004 at

Rancho San Onofre. The Ocean tryouts consist of surfboard riders

of all ages competing for Beach Dominance Bragging Rights for

the balance of the year. Events include but not limited to the

125 mile round trip paddle around San Clemente Island, the 40

mile round trip jog to nearby Las Pulgas Canyon, the 6 hour climb up

Mt.San Onofre for a Surfrider Foundation Flag Planting Ceremony,

a 50 mile round trip sprint to Huntington Beach Walk of Fame,

lunch and autograph session with David N., and finally, a chance

to be part of the demolition crew razing the popular Rib Trader Restaurant.

All this will be presented at the semi-annual San Onofre Barbacoa this

weekend at The Old Man Center for the Performing Arts.

TUBESTEAK/SOOTHSAYER

YOU CAN'T TAKE THINGS AT FACE VALUE ANYMORE. Was all the stuff

read you read about the SOSC and their BOD fact or fiction? James Kempton

edited San Onofre's Fiftieth Anniversary Commemamortive Yearbook

and if you curious about "Backyard Legends" read it. Nat Young's

History of Surfing is marvelous. Matt Warshaw's Encyclopedia of

Surfing "is telling it like it is", however, the SOSC 50th is "reality surfing"

at it's best. Listen to this "cast of characters: From Pop Procter to

Craig Ephrapm, and everyone in between, including dumb dogs

crapping on the sand, while it's master looks the other way.

Whoever researched the project might have distingueshed the

difference between a public beach and a dog kennel. As you

turn from page to page you can't help but think of Andy Warhol's

"everyone in their life gets fifteen minutes of fame." When you

read about Barney Wilkes, Eddie McBride, Jack White, Al

Dowden, Larry Green, Tom Turner, Vong Morong, Eve Fletcher,

James Arness, Jackie Coogan, Fatty Arbuckle;e, and thousands

more, you want answers as to why San Onofre's so far down

Surfing's food chain. Luau's, folding chair contests, rock and

roll ladies and vollyballen' men bocci ballers,, and every

other competetive off-beat sport in the world of this kickey

planet. Ranger Dairywimple received a request from

SOSC BOD for a special waiver permit to chisel four figures

on the sandstone bluff adjacent to the old Kukai Canyon,

a Mt.Rushmore style tribute to the "Deceased Legends of San Onofre".

TUBESTEAK/FOUNDER

HERE WE GO AGAIN. NO REST FOR THE WEARY. This morning at dawn,

Ranger Dairywimple, with "The Messenger", riding "shotgun", sped

along the "primitive dirt road"waving fresh copies of "La Opinion"

with a startling "banner headline". Although in espanol, it translated

to an agreement settlement between Jorge Bush and Vince Foxx,

announcing in accordance with NAFTRA, Rancho San Onofre will

be the new site of a multi-million dollar abattoir producing

smoked sausage, menudo tripe, and portugi. A total "hands on"

slaughterhouse, benefiting Baja California, Norte.. Housing will be provided by

Sister City of San Clemente in the Calle Escalone district. Ranger Dairywimple

predicated it was the direct result stemming from the deadly "Mad Cow"

disease infecting both North America and Mexico, DF. Funding for the project

will be paid by State monies so as not to put a dent in Presidente

Jorge Bush's 61 trillion "dollares" war budget. Sluggo asked Ranger if Rancho San

Onofre will take on the smell of Vernon CA like Farmer John's does.

The SOSC BOD will go through the roof when they discover the color

motiff will be red, white, and green. Later today, Sr.Miguel Retzario,

emissary, from the slaughterhouse/smoked sausage factory, will give a

an informative speech. Where is THEBIGKOOK when we needs him?

TUBESTEAK/PORTUGI

WELL, IT HAPPENED ONCE AGAIN. The SOSC BOD is once again irked

to the gills, After being snubbed in Matt Warshaw's ENCYCLOPEDIA

of SURFING, the only San Onofre legend is our old friend, Doc Paskowitz.

Even the Club.s trump card, James Arness, didn't make it. Surfing is a

tough journey not for the feigned of heart. Jim Kempton's 50th anniversary

year book is great, I almost have it memorized. Whoever comped me

thanks. Both, as you know, Kempton and Matt are previous Editors

of Surfer Mag. Alright, Club, get over it. Sunday I saw the cartoon,

Seabuiscit, and one of the stepping stones to the Santa Anita Handicap

is the San Onofre Stakes. Surfing is so miniscule no one pays much attention

to it, like "Who cares". Here is the sad part, Seabiscuit us shown world wide

in 23 languages and all those foreigners are going to see San Onofre, pack up

and come to San Onofre, which isn't bad because of the mega-doubling of

the fees. No wonder SOSC BOD is pissed now the State has enough

surplus to pave the "primitive dirt road". This's is probably an ouchy

subject, but have you ever heard of "Malibu Barbie", Chevy Malibu,

Malibu Rum, Malibu Legend's Tribute and Malibu La La? By the way,

years ago, the Los Angeles Turf Club dropped the San Onofre

Handicap like yesterday's rubbish.

TUBESTEAK/PAVE.THE.WAVE

SURFING IS NOT A PASTIME FOR THE WEAK HEARTED. Case in point:

The summer of '39 a typhonic, massive, hurricane slammed into Southern

California. invading the little fishing camp at Pescadoro San Onofre.

One of the campers coughed up two bits a night for to sleep on the

sand near the churning, boiling ocean, a trough on the way, barometric

pressure was dropping like a prom dress at 28.13. Hidden in the weeds

near the sandstone bluff was his Kook Box, eleven feet in length polished

monkey wood. Our camper, Pops Legree, handcrafted it himself over

an eight month period, bringing it to Pescadora San Onofre for her maiden

voyage. Awakened by the rumble of growing surf, "Pops" peeked from

his cozy mummy sleeping bag and couldn't believe his eyes. One after another

15 footers rolled in 200 yards out side of the Phantom's Reef, now descibed

in the 2000's as Old Man's (Ouch!). Okay, Sweetheart, let's try you out.

Pop's pulled from his belongings a 25' clothesline, attaching it to the Kook

box stern, swung it to his left shoulder, shuffled to the swirling berm,

plopped her in the sea, tied around his right ankle a death knot, and

the other end a shankshead, secure as can be he paddled to the

Phantom's Reef (Old Man's). It took nearly three hours of hell but Pop's

finally reached his destination. He sat gulping for oxygen, clearing his salt

filled lungs. Sitting alone, he felt a new found courage, just in time to witness

the biggest set of combers in his 39 years on the planet. The Kook Box floated

him real good as the mammoth sucked him up the face to the peak, high

above the trough. He had a good feeling as the monster catapulted him

through the green water, towards a beach 250 yards away at close to

40 knots per hour. Descending the face he attempted to stand, but

it was futile, the surface chop bumped Pops from is board, shooting

25' into the sky,stopping abruptly when the clothesline reached the limit.

With Pops beneath the surface, the Kook Box returned to sea, broaching the

the 25' of boil caught a path shoreward. The 95' Kook Box was like

a runaway freight train towing s helpless Pops 3' beneath the water,

where he never made it in alive. Three days later the fishmonger

found Pops lifeless in the water still attatched to the clothesline, 25'

in length. The first surfing death ever at Pescadora San Onofre.

TUBESTEAK/LEASHLESS

AN OLD GUY, DRIVING A '39 "CHEVY' eased into the #1 parking

spot, usually reserved for THEBIGKOOK, The beach's mood was

somber, the team was taking this tragedy seriously. Bill "Wild Ass"

Wiley, eased himself onto the "primitive dirt road". On the rear

seat lay an American Airlines Animal Travel Cage housing, "Monk",
'
his 63 year old Spider Monkey imported from Botswana,

Union of South Africa, during the uprising of '58. "I'm here

for the "flyover", said "Wild Ass". "Okay, with us, but were

not sure BIGKOOK'S gone." said Messenger, "No Positive ID from the

County Morgue, "Wild Ass" said, "No problemo, me and "Monk" need

the flight time." "Wild Ass" was the master of remote controlled

aircraft, In flight "Monk" took over, albeit "Wild Ass" was at

the remote control. No matter, "Monk" did feel he was

Captain. TEAM/BIGKOOK assembled, watching "Wild Ass"

and "Monk" ready the aircraft for the :flyover". "Monk",

adorned in his tiny aviator's helmet, miniature parachute,

and goggles, was inserted into the cockpit, placed in the

center of the runway ("the primitive dirt road"), given a

boost by Sea Cucumber, and headed for the "wild blue yonder",

"Wild Ass" taking him to 250'. At the same time at the head

of the road, stirring a funnel of dust, comes Ranger Dairywimple

and Special Dispatcher, NeoN, acting as Dairywimple's

liaison on the Mark Reynolds case. The State vehicle swerves

to a stop right in front of Building #4, Toilet #6. Deputy

NeoN alights from the car demanding, "What's going on here?"

"flyover for THEBIGKOOK," said Messenger. "No you don't,"

said deputy NeoN, "we have no proof he's deceased."

Ranger Said, "We can't find the cougar that bit off his

head, killing him instantly, get that plane out of the sky--NOW!

We must find the Big Cat, slice open his belly and find

Reynold's head, in other words he's a "Missing Person

Report just that." "And no more," added Deputy NeoN.

"So just be careful. Stay here until we return with the

Coroner's report, savvy.'

TUBESTEAK/HUMMM


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