When we spent a fair amount of time away each of the last three summers in coastal Southern California, my son and I latched onto certain songs. We would play these songs over and over on drives back and forth from our rental to various surf spots. I don’t know why these songs spoke to us as they did and why they stuck, but they did. They indelibly will be linked to their respective summer seasons. Here are the Songs of Summer and some additional notes on those summers.
Summer of 2021: Drive, by Alan Jackson. In the summer of 2021, my son and I took lessons together to learn to surf. To my delight, Max loved it. To my chagrin, I got my ass kicked…at first. I pushed on, though, and fell in love surfing. We tried a few different spots, but our go-to was Pipes in Cardiff.
Summer of 2022: Island Style, by Jack Johnson. In the summer of 2022, we started catching some unbroken waves. I had what remains the best ride of my life, where I hung on for dear life at a local Carlsbad spot called Terra Mar. Another surfer paid me a rare compliment (as opposed the occasional scolding to which I had become accustomed for getting in the way), and even my son complimented me. Not bad for a kook who basically caught the large wave by accident!
Summer of 2023. Three Songs. We liked both the original Pacific Coast Highway by Hip Abuction and the Reggae Remix by Johnny Cosmic, with my son slightly preferring the latter and I slightly preferring the former. We also listened to Bright Side of the Road by Van Morrison, a Bill Walton fave! And finally, a new song by Robert Smith and The Cure called And Nothing is Forever grabbed me, which meant Max learned to love it, too! This summer we rented some boards to experiment beyond our 8 foot foamies. Mostly Max used the nicer rental boards, but I tried them a few times. Old Man’s San Onofre became a new favorite spot for me. My son gravitated toward Tourmaline Surfing Park in La Jolla to which we returned after trying it in the previous year. Also in this summer, I devised a way to secure my prescription sunglasses with croakies looped through a hat that was attached to my head with a chin strap. The getup probably added to my kookishness, but I appreciated seeing more clearly and having protection from the sun.
Due to competing interests, we won’t be summering in SoCal next year. Hopefully we’ll at least be able to squeeze in a short trip there or somewhere else to enjoy the waves, discover songs, and create new memories.
With Love,
P. Gustav Mueller, author of The Present