Woodchopping crust-eater

Men. I think, talk and discuss them a lot. And lately I’ve been thinking about where my idea of masculinity and what I find hottt (yes, with three Ts) comes from. 

Hottt!!

Of course let me get all Freudian up in your grill and go to my mother for a starting point. The other day my parents and I had lunch at a hipster joint and I was watching my mum watching the skinny-jeaned, bearded, trouser rolled up, beanie perched just-so parade of men walk past. As we were leaving the café Mum turned to me and said, ‘Melbourne men are so soft. They all look like they need the crusts cut off their sandwiches as the crusts would be too much for them bear.’ So well put! And as for the sentiment, like mother, like daughter. 

I certainly do like a man myself. The tall strong type who can chop wood. A doer with a heart o’ gold. A softie who can rip a band-aid off in a sexy but gentle way. A man much like my first crush back in the 80s – Alby Mangels. Sure he loved a bikini-clad lady but he rescued a fawn from chomping crocodiles in Papua New Guinea! What’s not to like?

If Alby surfed, well, he would be near perfect. I’ve recently read a book called ‘Notes for a Young Surfer’ and it’s all about how to be a man in the surfing world. I thought it would be useful for me as I’m about to launch myself back into surfing giddily optimistic and full of gusto. It’s Spring after all. 

I was surprised to read that in many ways it seems the surfing culture hasn’t changed much since Puberty Blues. I’ve been completely oblivious to this out on the waves but then again I haven’t been out in real surf with real surfers. As I was reading I was perhaps forgetting that I am neither a young grommet or a bloke so I probably don’t have to worry about the possibility of a punch-on if I try to surf in someone’s ‘locals only’ spot. If I ever make it out the back with the dudes I must remember that ‘you never finish learning to surf, just like you never finish learning to be a bloke’. Okay. Got it.

 Hi-five from me to you.

The past couple of weeks have been awesome – I’ve got a new job, a certain surfer told me their spirit quest in Europe is up and they’re coming home and it also looks like I’m going to be moving house. The anticipation during this transition phase is exhilarating. I love the toey wide-eyed feeling I get with change. So there was no better way to celebrate this change than to take myself to Zak’s and buy myself a new board. Uglybetty just had to go. I explained to Zak that I couldn’t get past the freakin’ frangipanis and he said ‘There’s one way to fix that. Can of spraypaint, mate’ as he chomped down his kebab at the counter. I said that wasn’t the point. I would still know the frangipanis would be there mocking me with their pink and purple hues. I also confessed that I’m in the steady-eddy-the-eagle-cool-runnings-bobsled league of surfing. He looked me up and down and said, ‘You really should be surfing by now.’ Sheesh. So this weekend I’m going to brace myself for the coldest water temperature of the season and trial a couple of boards. Zak is going to take me on a tour around the shop sans kebab and I’m heading down the coast to give them a whirl. Operation:HotBitch will hopefully pay off. Ready or not, here I come!

 This will be me out on the waves on Saturday.