There are all kinds of ways to surf. You can boogie board, long board, sail board, short board, computer board and even surf aboard a bicycle. GT and I surf south on the Historic Highway 101 from Oceanside to La Jolla a couple of times a week. My wife, Debra, works there. Typically, I meet the lovely, slender Debra and her fat “Old lady’s car,” a 2,000 Mercury Grand Prix, in La Jolla at 4:30 PM. The 101 waves between here and La Jolla are superlative. Riding those waves gives me the jollies, melts the cheese in my quesadilla and gets me very tired. I want to invite you to join us surfing the 101 today on our 30 mile ride.

A few words about my bike, I call him GT, but his real name is GT LTS 3. He is a brute. He was born in 1998 and listed for $4, 295. Debra bought this macho bicycle for me as a birthday gift about 4 years ago at a garage sale for 60 bucks! We took GT to a bicycle hospital in Carlsbad.

Dr. Bill: Could you give GT a physical exam.

Dr. Bike: Sorry, but GT is dead, ready for a plot in Cycle Cemetery. Ha! Ha! HA! Wanta buy some new wheels?

Dr. Bill: Can I leave him here and you can use him for parts?

Dr. Bike: No take him away!

At this pronouncement, I could swear that GT’s frame drooped a little. Just for laughs, I took GT to Maurice at his Bike and Parts shop and observed the $45.00 resurrection. Maurice is located in a Mexican-American, everyday flee market on the SE corner of Mission and Cannon. With both front and back suspension, GT rides like a dream and gear changes are slick clicks. GT hasn’t needed any major maintenance since. Maurice found GT a big ass, big mama saddle that is five times as grand as the saddle that every serious biker places his/ her anus upon. I quivered when I read the reviews of Gee. All were variations of “Best mountain bike ever.” and “Wow.” GT and I often have conversations via psychic waves. I should tell you, GT is gay.

Do most men have a homosexual relationship with their ride, or is it only GT and I? I put my privates closer to GT than anyone other than Debra. As long as GT lives, I will never love another mountain bike. I wouldn’t even get on the saddle of one.
GT asked me to marry him. Without thinking, “I said “Yes!” I should have thought to ask Debra but I didn’t think that she would mind. I told Debra that I was going on a bicycle outing. I was. We snuck away to San Francisco, got our license and were married on June 16, 2008. This was the first day that same-sex marriage licenses were legal after the favorable California Supreme Court decision. No one seemed to care about our crossing the line between animate and inanimate. We were married on a cable car with Tony Bennett. We found his heart in our small boom box wailing about San Francisco. It was so romantic. I finally told Debra about this. She thinks I’m totally crazy and have a sense of humor that only a loving wife would tolerate.

The open door on gay marriage closed on Nov. 5t h, , 2008, Dear old Proposition 8, limited marriages to those between one man and one woman. GT screams at me.

GT: Wake up, human species! Love is love. It happens between individuals. Gender is not a critical factor in the emotion de amor.

Dr. Bill: You and I know that, but try to convince a non-believer.

GT: Freud’s argument is kind of convincing. Everything concerning gender identification and unconscious relationships with mom and dad are established in the first five years. Did you suck enough as a baby? Did artistically spread your feces on your parent’s bed spread, Did you become obsessed with carrots, cucumbers or kohlrabi?

Dr. Bill: Yipes, GT. My favorite foods are carrots, cucumbers and Kohlrabi. What does that mean?

GT: That you are totally obsessed with GT LTS 3, my sweetie.

Dr. Bill: I was wondering what that meant.

GT: Freud believed that we enter the world as polymorphous pansexuals. That the direction of our sexuality after birth depends on the winds. Another wind and I might have been straight. Love occurs when two compatible winds connect. Our love is proof.

Dr. Bill: So true, I never dreamed that I would fall for and marry a bicycle- a gay one, yet.

GT: So, whether you have a fetish for bicycle seats or identify yourself as queer, straight, bi, or tri, Freud says that it all took place in those first five years.

Dr. Bill: It instills a bit of compassion in me. A different wind and I might have developed a diverse sexuality.

GT: You did! Remember, you’re married to me, sweetheart.

GT: I’ve something to share with you. When I was a young bicycle, I had an uncle that touched me in my private parts. I liked it. Dr. Bill, you remind me of my uncle.

Dr. Bill: That gives me blush-face and yucky stomach.

As we proceed, I wonder, Yipes, what have I gotten myself into? Then, the thought of 101, races into my consciousness. I feel passion of the next wave in my blood again.

Departure Oceanside: 12:10 PM Today’s surf to La Jolla begins at the crossroads of Canyon and Mission in Oceanside. Our house is on the wrong side of the freeway and the right side of Mission. Not the greatest address, but a nice fit for us. We moved from Melba St. in Encinitas to Oceanside and figure we saved about $20, 000 a mile for the 14 mile distance. An equivalent house in Oceanside would cost about one-half of a house in Encinitas. We saved $280, 000 by moving down the street a bit. We are less than a mile away from the beach, pier and frozen yogurt. Halleluiah, there is a god. Our home is surrounded by a religious aura and flanked by churches. Next door is the almost all black Friendly Church of God in Christ with James E. Hammond as the Elder Pastor. A fashion show take places each Sunday, as these elegant folks attend the services. Debra and I were sitting on the curb, dressed in dirty gardening clothes, eavesdropping on the live and beautiful Gospel music coming from inside the church. A man about thirty in a purple tux, attire proper for attending the Academy Award Ceremony, approached us. The gentleman invited us into the church and we were introduced to Elder Hammond- quite a lovely human being. He led us to his office and cordially invited us to attend church anytime. Debra asked him, Are you one of those people that my aunty called holly rollers? The pastor chuckled and replied, Yes, I guess that you might call us that. Another time they invited our grandchildren to an Easter egg hunt. They are a friendly church. Dr. Bill: GT, some folks are going to join our surf of Historic 101 today. Is that OK? GT: Damn gay. Bring them on. Hello, I’m GT. Welcome. GT: I’m still not up to snuff. Yesterday, before Torrey Pines Beach, I got nailed in the rear and lost all my air. Dr. Bill: I tenderly repaired you this morning.

GT: Oh, it felt so good when you touch around my rim.

Needing air, we hoof it down Dixie St. to the nearest gas station on Mission singing, I wish I were in Dixie. Away, away. Away down south in Dixie. GT: It is a song about a slave being nostalgic for the South, where he was born. This was Abe Lincoln’s favorite song, yet it’s now considered “politically incorrect.” Dr. Bill: How do you figure? GT: Current culture rules. Cultural relativism is the “why.” It is a now versus than thing. Greek men enjoyed boys in Athens in Socrates day. It was acceptable. Today, someone who indulges in those pleasures ends up in prison. We are rolling once more. I sing GT his favorite song Back in the Saddle by Arrowsmith. Ridin' into town alone by the light of the moon I'm lookin' for ol' Sukie Jones in crazy horse saloon Barkeep gimme a drink, that's when she caught my eye She turned to give me a wink that make a grown man cry

I'm back in the saddle again I'm back I'm back in the saddle again I'm back G T: Yes! It is sooo good to have you back in the saddle, big-boy. Arrowsmith’s song rages over Gene Autry’s Back in the Saddle, Again. Arrow talks about love, not all this “where a friend is a friend” stuff. Dr. Bill: Sorry, but your favorite song is about sex, not love. Arrow’s song reached number 38 on Billboards top 100 in 1974. Gene’s version was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1997 and ranked to be the 98th best song of the twentieth century in 2001. Time will prove Gene’s to be the more enduring song. GT (irritated): I like it, just because I like it. Get it, Dr. Bill.

I react by feathering the brakes, We follow Barnes to Division and traverse the overpass of Interstate 5. There is a deafening roar of the traffic below.

Dr. Bill: GT, will my one good ear be damaged by all this noise?

GT(reassuring): This overpass will quickly pass.

The Barrio It does pass. Coasting down into the Barrio, we are met by almost all brown faces, iron reinforced windows and barking perros. Los perros seem to be loudly professing that their bite is worse than their bark. On the left is a verde community jardin that is ahead of our vegetables plantes de tomates y calabazas (squash). We pass a grocery food truck, surrounded by senoras y ninos. The truck had everything from tomates a tomatillos y dulces that derotten sus dientes (ruin your teeth), pero provide an instante sugar high to the jovenes.

Oceanside High School

Junior’s illegal left turn. His 2004 Cadillac Escalade sits at the bottom of the Carlsbad cliff. Imagine having a week like this! On Saturday, Oct. 17, 2010, Tianina Baul Seau, Jr. was inducted into the Oceanside High School Hall of Fame. He talked about the unconditional love he had felt at Oceanside High. On Sunday, Junior had a outbreak of pimples in his life. The police were called to his house and he was accused of domestic violence. On Monday, at 12:20 am, he was arrested for domestic abuse. Seven hours after being released on $25,000 bail, he air-surfed his 2004 Cadillac Escalade over a thirty foot embankment onto a Carlsbad beach near Solamar Dr. Blood tests showed no alcohol or drugs were involved, Junior had apparently fallen asleep. The District Attorney’s office decided not to press charges for physical abuse due to insufficient evidence. The D.A. stated, As with every case we review, we have an ethical duty to file charges only when we believe we can prove them beyond a reasonable doubt. Junior was cited for an illegal left turn. Junior has gone from charging quarterbacks to charging for your dinner He owns two restaurants, Seau’s The Restaurant located in Mission Valley and another in Temecula. Both are filled with football memorabilia. The14, 500 square foot Sports Bar in Mission Valley is very well reviewed. It was voted Best Sports Bar of the year in 1997 by the San Diego Restaurant Association. The menu includes everything from pizza to sushi. The Junior Seau foundation has raised four million big ones to finance programs aimed at inspiring young people. He is active in the Samoan community and has done so many good things for the Asian Pacific and Oceanside community. Junior, your sun still shines. Highway 101: 12:17 PM Insert Picture We glide down one of the many Oceanside streets that are named after states to Michigan and hang a left onto 101. This is the starting line of our surf down the Historic 101. Here comes the first big one. As usual, GT beats me to the punch. Dr. Bill: Gosh, here we are on 101. We are starting our journey. GT: Cut the chatter. Feel the force. Dr. Bill: I think I feel it. GT: Don’t think, feel. There is a presence of a strong force nearby that is being reflected on both sides of the 101. Dr. Bill: Yes, I feel it. The force is racing through my arms, like an arms race. My eyes are on alert. GT: Shush. I’m catching a mind wave saying that the force appeared here in 1492. I mean 1942. Sometimes, I sign my name TG. I’m dyslexic. Dr. Bill (free associating): Arms of me. Army. No Marines. That’s it! Camp Pendleton! GT: You got it, brother. Notice the wave of warm invitations that are extended to our military personnel to freely spend their money in nearby establishments. An enormous red, white and blue sign reads Freedom. Another states We Proudly honor our Military. The Camp Pendleton Marine presence is shouted about with flags waving, used car lots stating approved military loans, military dry cleaning and pawn shops trying to lure those short haired military folks to Come on down. Trade your Gold for Silver.
Dr. Bill: Which is being honored most, the Military or the Dollar? GT: Each in its own way. GT: I feel an even more powerful force that pervades the atmosphere of coastal towns from Malibu to San Diego.
Dr. Bill: Gottcha. Fear of the Great White Shark! GT: Pshaw. The vibrations are coming from Hawaii, Baja Mexico and Southern California. Use your eyes. GT: Look at the stores. Dr. Bill: We’ve passed several shops selling surf boards, beach attire and beach cruisers. Ah,ha. I get it. Is it the Southern California Beach Subculture? GT: Right! Hawaii gave us the surfing culture and a norm of acceptance of bare skin and sensuality. Baja taught us to ply ourselves into a relaxed state with Margaritas, marijuana and a manana attitude, maybe, a morning Corona. So. Cal has contributed woodies, fast foods, board shorts and bikinis. The foods most gobbled by the beach tribe reflects these cultures; sushi and teriyaki via Hawaii, burritos and tacos direct from Baja and a good old American hamburger with fries and a coke or milkshake. You can identify the tribe by their casual dress with $60 or more board shorts, $100 bikinis, flip flops and no socks, tank tops and name brand sun glasses are a must, as is a tattoo or two. We surf past the Café 101. First opened in 1928, the website claims it is the oldest and best restaurant in Oceanside. It is a comfortable place with the most delicious toasty, crispy hash browns in town and tasty breakfasts. The place hasn’t changed much since it opened in 1928. GT wants to stop and look at a supposed antique bicycle for two in front. GT: Antique, that piece of junkyard pipe isn’t even a replica of a bicycle for two. The only place this fecal matter belongs is in the trash can. It makes me want to take my peddles to it. Dr. Bill: I wonder if it could be functional? GT (disgusted): Sometimes, I wish there were a Trek around that would understand me. I notice the Beach Break Café has become the brand, spanking new Beach Break Plaza. Good place, but too pricey, crowded and trendy for me. Good breakfast pastry, but the beautiful Debra makes much better. I read a review where some dudes came from LA to the Beach Break. A worthwhile venture, but not a wave I want to ride. We approach the first bike shop, “Allen’s Bike Shop.” Inside was a nice gentleman. Dr. Bill: GT complains of a squeaky wheel and chain. Can you help me? Nice Gentleman: Sure, I’ll oil your squeaky wheel- your chain, too. GT: Ohhh. That feels so good. Perhaps, a touch more oil. Dr. Bill: Thank you, Nice Gentleman. Lubrication makes such a difference. At Vista Way, in front of Pacific Coast Cycle, there is a real antique bicycle. To avoid a jealous rage, I leave GT outside. I enter. Dr. Bill: How about letting me ride that relic to La Jolla a few times. It’ll be good advertisement for you. Maybe Owner: No deal. It’s solely for display. Anyhow, you wouldn’t want to. Dr. Bill: I would. I would. Maybe Owner: Forget it. No is no. Dr. Bill: Can I rent it for 1 million dollars for eight hours? Maybe Owner: Sure. Show me the dough. Dr. Bill: So, we’re just quibbling about the price. How about $10.00? Maybe Owner: Get out of here. Dr. Bill: Some people have no sense of adventure. I come out of the bike shop to face an accusation. GT: I thought we were monogamous. Dr. Bill: We are. It’s an antique. It’s not a mountain bike. OK? I don’t like it when you eavesdrop on my mind. We surf past a smoke shop with tools and all the accompaniments of the high life. On the left is the biggest, cheapest breakfast in Oceanside and Encinitas. Angelo’s serves 3 eggs, 2 pancakes, 2 strips of bacon and 2 sausages for $5.29. We did once encounter a cockroach on the floor, but the price beats Vigalucci’s! Whee, we sea-gull swoop down into Buena Vista Lagoon, a State Ecological Reserve, which separates Oceanside from Carlsbad. On our left is a Nature Center that is built, owned, operated and staffed by members and volunteers of the local Audubon Society. They provide guided nature walks and classroom programs. If you ever want to see a bunch of indigenous dead, stuffed birds, mammals, rodents, etc, this is the place to go. I found these critters somewhat interesting, but Debra found them somewhat disgusting. She asks, Were these poor stuffed animals killed just for our entertainment? Not even the docents had an answer. We both loved the walkways around the lagoon. GT: I don’t like it when you think about her. Dr. Bill: Then don’t listen in on my thoughts. GT: Well, you listen to mine.


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