Sunday morning… I get up before the Pop Tart and Cartoon wolves howl
At our door ,
Grab the keys, and go watch surfing. Last 6 weeks I’ve been doing this; part therapy,
Part study, part analysis paralysis before I actually attempt surfing again.
And this morning there are two guys with metal detectors, one roaming the beach randomly, the other guy in a grid, back and forth, up and down.
Who do you think is doing better?
The one with the obvious system, right? Working every square inch of the beach?
Organized. Systematic. He’s probably got a trapper keeper in his car.
The other one just roaming. Following the next hot lead. Lightning strike Larry.
Like they say in the oil business.. WEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL No.
I couldn’t take it; I’m a coach, I’m curious, amped on poorly made coffee (yours truly) and an intent desire to make conversation with everyone… So I approach Larry.
You can see in his face he’s not impressed: grey hair, hat on backwards, dressed like a guy who should be surfing, yet solely knows the stores where to get the stuff…..he wants me to make this quick so he can get back to treasure huntin’
Then he lays my assumptions out with what I can only describe as the haymaker of maturity: brevity, clarity, and The This Ain’t My First Rodeo look.
Larry: “I combed this beach for five years, just like that guy, up, down,
Grid, took notes. Repeat.
Repeat. Repeat. Great exercise. sh&*% pay off.”
“Driving home one night, parking lot was full, we pulled over, my 8 year old
Son and me, to see a couple parties down there, a few couples,
And where twilight surfers had set their stuff.”
THEN MY SON SAYS THIS: ” you should take a picture with your phone of where people are sitting; dig there tomorrow cuz that’s where they sat all night.”
Go to where the people were/are.
Review your habits with an 8 year old or your coach.
Larry, your son is a genius.