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I tried to fit too much into one day. It started with a Padres game. Well, actually, a lunch and party at Petco Park for the Make-A-Wish Foundation and then a game.

After the party and game, I headed up to a party off Friars Road for a Filipino guy named Manny who was turning 60. The party had started at 1:00 p.m., so by the time I got there in the late afternoon, it was winding down. I tried to grab a soda, but all the two-liter bottles were empty. A guy named Joe apologized and brought over a jug of California Chianti and a cup of ice. I enjoyed a chilled glass of the wine. Another guy walked by and said, “Oh, you’re enjoying some world-renowned Chianti there.”

As a band played, Joe brought over a Fender guitar he had custom-made with the Filipino flag. Later, when a different band started playing, I noticed Joe was playing drums.

There was meat being cooked on a grill. My girlfriend isn’t much of a meat-eater, so I went looking around for something for her to munch on. I found some carrot cake, which I hate. But I brought her a piece.

My friend Gerald, who had gone with me to the Padres game, had no problem with the meat, but he did admit that he couldn’t tell if it was done. He asked one guy how to tell and was told, “Just grab one and smile when you eat it. Hope for the best.” Gerald grabbed a beer and a stick of meat. I asked what kind it was. He said he wasn’t sure, and we both laughed.

There were a few more late arrivals to the party from the Padres game.

After Gerald headed home, my girlfriend and I headed up to Encinitas for a tiki party hosted by a bunch of surfers.

I met a woman who writes the newsletter for San Diego Surf Ladies. She is one of their founders. She said they meet the first Saturday of every month at Pipes, and they take trips to Hawaii, Australia, and that they recently went to Costa Rica.

Another woman told me she’s 38 and started surfing at 19. She said, “Only 5 percent of surfers are female. It’s a male-dominated activity.”

Another male-dominated activity, I found out, was golf. One guy was talking about surfing and his wife was quiet. I asked if she surfed. She didn’t. She told me she was a golfer in high school, but “They didn’t have a girls’ team in high school. It was in Pendleton, Oregon. So I played on the boys’ team. They didn’t like it much.”

There was a guy who had a broken wrist but was walking around in a wetsuit. He was looking at the surfboards that were being auctioned off. Another guy mentioned having eight stents in his heart and that he still surfs.

A group of older surfers was talking about injuries and health problems. One of them said, “I had colon cancer. Too much beer and animal fat.”

Too much information for me.

As I walked away from that group, I heard a woman tell one of them that he’s old. He said, “See if I invite you to any more of these!”

I grabbed some chips and salsa and looked at a Don Wexler board that was going to be auctioned off. Someone said Tiki Magazine donated items to the party and that the founder of the magazine is a school teacher who lives in San Diego.

I sat down next to a woman who told me about her adopted son in Nevada. He used to model for Calvin Klein and Ralph Lauren. I asked if she had any photos of him, and she showed me his picture. He was a good-looking kid.

Another woman thought I was asking to see her driver’s license. She said, “That is how you find out what a person’s perfect weight is. You ask to see their license. If it says 145 pounds on there, well, that’s probably what they should weigh. I’m sure it’s not what they weigh, but it’s probably their ideal weight. And, nobody ever questions it. Do police officers ever ask for driver’s license and registration and then come back to your car claiming it’s not you because the weight is off by 75 pounds?”

When I went to grab a soda, an Iranian woman came over and told me that she liked to party. It seemed like she was drunk. She asked me if I liked “making out.” I said, “Uh, sure. So does my girlfriend.” I pointed in my girlfriend’s direction, but she was on the other side of the campground.

This woman then said she could read palms and asked to see my hand. I showed it to her. She was staring at it for a long time. I said, “It’s bad, huh?” She said, “Oh, no. I can’t really read palms. I was just looking to see if you were married.” I laughed and said, “I told you my girlfriend is over there.” She said, “Oh, I didn’t hear you. I’ll have to find someone else to make out with.”

I saw her with a young surfer an hour later.

A surfer named Eddie was playing a ukulele. I asked him if the uke’s a favorite instrument of surfers. “Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say that. But, it’s light, easy to carry around. It sounds nice.”

I heard two women, one named Corey, talking about surfing. Corey mentioned something about having “soul and compassion” and how it’s not something you can just “learn by reading a book about it.” The other woman was pissed that her board had been dinged recently.

As the sun was starting to set, several people mentioned the green flash. I made the mistake of saying that though I’d lived in San Diego my entire life, I had never seen it and don’t believe that there is such a thing. They all explained why I was wrong. The most entertaining explanation came from a lady surfer. She had been drinking all day, but she spoke clearly and explained in great detail what creates the illusion.

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Comments

Josh Board July 28, 2008 @ 2:47 a.m.

Pete, does the number that follows your name always change? Also, my girlfriend is Iranian (half). So, I guess you could say, I didn't.

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pete78 July 27, 2008 @ 2:16 a.m.

You passed up the Iranian poon Josh? That lady probably would have let you have your way with her.

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