Mark Zuckerberg’s Wife Seems to Regret Family Pivot to Combat Sport; screams as blood spurts out, probably reminiscent of Kai Lenny’s hot healthy surf!

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“I like the idea that the longboard is out there waiting for me.”

About a week ago I got in the car and drove to Ventura.

Along the way, I got stuck in a traffic jam.

There, I sat in traffic en route to an event at Patagonia and felt terribly guilty for my life choices. I’m bad for the planet, I thought, as I sat there crawling, blowing exhaust fumes into the air with everyone else blowing too.

At least the ice cream was organic. On the way to the traffic jam, I surfed Bad Rincon and ate some great food at The Good Plow. Ice cream includes. Ice cream fixes everything, even the parking ticket I got in Ventura. But that’s getting ahead of history.

Bad surf and good ice and traffic were all in the way to see Lauren Hill’s new movie, The Physics of Noseriding. If you don’t know Lauren, she wrote the broadsheet book, She Surf, where she weaved together a diverse set of stories about women’s surfing from around the world. The film offers an endearing and corny look at how longboards work, and more specifically what makes noseriding possible.

I’m pretty sure the curve of a woman’s hip on the end of a longboard, that dance, that swing, is one of the most beautiful things about surfing.

But, how does it actually work?

This is the question Lauren sets out to answer. It all sounds extremely serious, and not at all the sort of thing I would normally do in traffic to watch. Lauren’s talent as a storyteller turns the film into a joyful exploration.

I have to tell you that I can’t do a longboard. Not correctly, at least.

Oh, I can stand there like the Statue of Liberty and hope the giant fiberglass slab goes mostly in the right direction. It doesn’t work very often. Graceless spattering and fluttering is the usual result. I don’t understand how to make a longboard sing and dance and do magic things. Noseriding might as well be a walk on the moon.

Growing up in Florida, Lauren learned how to get the most out of little surfing. The longboard and the weightless feeling of the nose captured his imagination. These days she lives in Australia where the long point walls of Byron Bay give her more room to play. Her experiences inspired the film and she wanted to showcase the skills of the surfers she admires.

Namaala Slaab’s open curiosity serves as the framework for the film.

Namaala, whose sister Jalaan is a shaper, teeters on a fallen log in a balancing act, and her explorations bring the film’s most abstract ideas to life. In an homage to a scene from Gidget, Namaala rides a longboard on her bed in a demonstration of the Coanda effect.

Yes, there is real physics in the movie.

Lauren takes us into the deep end and skilfully brings us back. I came out of it all much smarter. And while Lauren couldn’t fit a discussion of board design into the film — maybe she can do a future movie or write an article about that side of the story — I felt like a longboard” got “in a way that I haven’t had in the past.

There’s also some enjoyable surfing and a hilarious, all-too-real portrayal of shortboarders. If you don’t recognize yourself, my fellow shortboarders, you’re not being honest. This is us, struggling in search of an elusive and impossible grace.

Great, you say. She’s going to get on a longboard and make us read all this. She made us read about her red bikini and her ice cream and her parking ticket. Longboard?

It’s a bridge too far. Someone made him stop.

Since I’ve forbidden myself from buying new boards for now, you’re safe.

For the moment.

Recently I wrote a profile story of Matt Warshaw, which you can read in the next issue of Emocean Magazine. As you all know by now, Matt lives in Seattle and has pretty much quit surfing. As I tried to make sense of Matt’s relationship with surfing, I had a number of long conversations with long-time people about life and change.

If you want to surf forever, how do you do it? How do you keep it new and fresh? Is this a worthy pursuit or even possible? I think one answer is to try different things. Mount different boards. Look for different waves.

And so, I like the idea that the longboard is out there waiting for me. There’s a whole way of surfing that I don’t understand and have never really experienced. Maybe I’ll never try. Maybe I’ll quit and move to Seattle first. But I love the idea that it’s out there, one of an endless array of possibilities, a road to take or not depending on the sparks of inspiration.

I loved Lauren’s film for its lighthearted invitation to learn more about one of the mysteries of surfing. And perhaps one answer to the question of how to surf forever is to stay open to its possibilities, even if they don’t all fit into the present.

But then again, I’m just an idiot with a parking ticket.

Lauren is currently on tour with her film, and you can follow her @theseakin for screenings in Australia. The film will be released online next year.

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