Beer, Sunshine, and the Shark-Infested Waters of Northern California

Comrades,

As to your inquiries into my recent whereabouts, I can only respond with assurances that all is well in my current place in the world, having returned, bloodied, bruised and triumphant, from a weekend that tested the fortitude of both my stomach and liver.

Responding to the call of other like-minded adventurers, I made the journey from my humble abode to the sun-swept and rugged coastline of Northern California in general, and Santa Cruz in particular, with a heart-felt and sincere desire to make something of both the Memorial Day weekend, of which so many of America's sons and daughters have passed before their time in order to make this a better country for us all, and of course, to make something of myself.

Several important dates, in addition to the aforementioned holiday would must be remembered, honored, and respected, not least of which was the birthdays of close friends and family.  Many animals were slaughtered and consumed, and much drink was passed from friend to friend, culminating in a riotous celebration of life, adventure, and testicular fortitude.

We did not pass through such an event unscathed, as the burnt skin from the hot sun, damage to our individual purifying organs, and sheer exhaustion from lack of sleep would make clear, but true voyagers in this thing called life of course realize that our time here is borrowed, not owned, and that at times, short-term memory loss must be sacrificed for the greater good of long-term memory gain, and scars well-earned from honorable battle are not to be hid, but worn proudly for all to see.  It is not just from the writings or teachings of the elders that we learn, but from our own experiences, struggles, passions and failures.

And while we have all returned to our current places of dutiful employment by now, we are left with the memories of our battle, the peeling skin from our burnt hides, a hangover by which to remember the struggle, and hazy memories dutifully captured by some enterprising and slightly more sober individual who remembered that someone must record this shit-show.

Happy Memorial Day