Remember my description of “body surfing” – “like being in a clothes dryer and being tossed around”? Well, a better description is “like being in a clothes dryer – full of water- and being tossed around”.

And that’s what it was like, except this time it went on and on, and on. I was seriously concerned about being “knocked unconscious”, or “swept back into the ocean” instead of to the shore. “Breathing” suddenly became a big issue with me, and I briefly wondered how my parents would “take it”, you know, “your son was killed in Nam while body surfing at the beach”. Amazing how lucid your thoughts can be in a really serious situation. I could see my Dad, nodding his head and saying, “yeah, that’s sounds like something he would do.”, as he puffed on his ever present pipe.

Dad had told me many times during my brief life that I would be lucky to make 21, unless I “straightened out and flew right”, which was his favorite saying to me in those days. I suppose he thought about that statement a few times after I got drafted and sent to Nam, at the ripe old age of 20. I know I did. We had our “differences” (Dad and I) that was for sure, and it would be about 10 years down the road before we managed to get “adjusted” to each other.

But, right at the moment I wasn’t counting on having another 10 seconds, because I was near bursting from holding my breath, and all I could see was “water”. I was desperately looking for any sign of daylight, and in the early stages of totally freaking out, when I felt ground beneath my feet, and kicking like mad against it, I saw a little patch of daylight, and finally, my head came out of the water long enough to get a breath, and then, everything was ok, and I rode it out, washing up on the beach within a few seconds.

I spent the next minute or two – “kissing” the wet sand, and telling myself that I was going to stay away from water for a while. All the time, babbling out loud about what a “fucking ride it was”. A couple of my friends picked me up and carried me up the beach a little and out of the water. It had been one ride to remember, and I’ve never forgotten it. Oh yeah, “the MP’s waving their arms on the beach” ---- “they were trying to tell everyone in the water to get out of the water”. Seems that a “weather bulletin” had been issued from somewhere and they (the military) were closing the beach, due to the possibility of dangerous waves. lol

One of my friends told me later that everybody on the beach thought we’d “bought the farm” on that wave. Well, none of us did, but I can assure you it was awhile before I went body surfing again. I think it was about 2 weeks later, but the waves were nothing like they had been that day. My “surfing” days in Nam ended about a month later when I was put on convoy duty, and eventually ended up in a “field unit”. I would not see Cam Rahn Bay again for 10 months, and when I did, it was because I was flying out of the Nam, for the “world”. Note: while I was there everyone talked of “the world” when talking about home. “Back in the world”, was a common remark, and “the world” was where everyone wanted to make it back to.

So…. There I was – in the ocean waiting on the “monster wave” of all time, along with about 4 or 5 other guys with less sense than brains, lol. Back on the beach there were some guys “waving their arms” at us. We waved back at them for a few seconds until it dawned on us – the guys waving were MP’s --- oops.

Now why was a bunch of MP’s waving at us from the beach? The obvious answer was that the base was getting attacked or something; but at about the same time we turned to look at the waves coming in --- and discovered that “our wish” had been granted. On it’s way to the beach, and coming right toward us was the monster wave we had been looking for, and it was huge, so huge that my foggy brain “cleared”, momentarily – and I began to wonder why I was where I was.

A couple of the guys started swimming for the beach, but there really wasn’t any use in that, for we were about 10 seconds from being “picked up and carried” there by the wave anyway. I will admit I was scared. In fact I will admit that I was cussing my stupid ass for being out there at all; but it was also a “rush” (remember that word?) – at the same time. And then it was on top of me and I dove for the shore with it.

Walking on the beach that day, it was “hot”, but we didn’t know the temp and didn’t care, for it was “summer on the beach” and Nam was hidden in the deepest recesses of our minds, as the “Beatles” were singing “Get Back” (yes children, we had music and speakers, and all that stuff back in the day) lol. In fact, for about a hundred yards it was all music, loud music my man, and booze, and of course a few local women, although the main focus was the beach, and the booze, and a slight “haze” that hovered above the beach.

The pounding of the surf somehow intruded into the music in a good way, and the general atmosphere was kind of like a party on the beach back home. Kinda-sorta-of, but not quite the same thing. Lol But, for me, it was “one of those times”, shit, the beer was never colder, the air never crisper, it was “living on the edge, and liking it 101”, (one of the courses at the university I went to) .

Walking out into the ocean, I was somewhat surprised that the water seemed cooler than usual, and wondered if it was because of the hurricane brewing? In actuality, I was probably wondering a lot of stuff, but I think one of my thoughts was about the cool water.

“Its your thing, do what you want to do”, man is that song really as old as I think? Well tomorrow is Wednesday, but I spell it “Friday”, and this is a “four dayer” coming up, so, it don’t get much better – as they say.

Hey, does anyone like “Heaven” by the Los Lonely Boys” as much as I do.

Save me from this prison
Lord help me get away
Only you can save me now from this misery
I’ve been locked up in this crazy world too long
I’ll just keep on praying and living
I just got to know how far it is
Yeah lord can you tell me
I just got to know how far
I just want to know how far
How far is heaven
Well lord, can you tell me
How far is heaven

Over on Pranks blog there is a big ruckus a going on, and I am wondering if the Prankster knows about it. Thought I might “private email him”, but, he’s an understanding guy, don’t you think?

I gotta tell you, standing in the ocean waiting for a big wave, and looking out for jellyfish when you’re three sheets to the wind is quite relaxing, at least if you’re 20 years old, and forced into a war, but can’t buy beer back home, or vote.

Read the blog before this one - before reading this one.

DISCLAIMER --- Doc - if my writing is not up to par, maybe you should check out Yahoo, or go buy a newspaper, or turn on the radio, or t.v., or... or... well you're a smart guy, you did go to college didn't you? Anyway, you're a smart guy, figure it out.

Yeah it was a “planned vacation”, for we had been hearing for days about a hurricane that was blowing up the coast, causing “monster” waves at Cam Rahn. That day when we first got to Cam Rahn, we drove by the beach to look at the waves, and they were giant ones all right, looking like 8 or 9 footers at least. There were already about 10 guys in the water, and as I stood there and watched, I saw this giant wave coming in, trailing behind a couple of smaller ones. It was at least 12 feet high, and maybe higher.

A couple of the guys went with the second of the two smaller ones, but the rest hung in there for the big one and as it engulfed them I could feel what they were feeling, and it was a feeling - of being tossed around and around, like clothes in a dryer, and all the while, all you can think of is “would I get out of this thing or not”? Literally. It works better if you’re a little stoned, and have a few beers in you, but I guess you could do it stone cold sober, but, man, that would be stupid, don’t you think?

What was the point of this? Oh yeah, the girl. Yes, she was like body surfing all right, and while both were dangerous, I could be talked into body surfing again, but I would have to pass on “seconds” with her. lol

Back to that day in Cam Rahn Bay. We went wherever and got our stuff took care of and headed back to the beach, stopping long enough to ice the beer. Hmm… now I know where I’ve seen “ice” before. lol

to be continued...-----------ice

DISCLAIMER: If you (Mr.Dock) read this and don't like it. Here's a quarter -=--- go call someone who cares. --------ice

There has to be a point to it all, wouldn’t you think? Because if life means nothing, then why does it exist? The mere existence of this life portends to another one, for like John Lennon said, “death is like getting out of one car and getting in another”. This I believe to be true. How do I know for sure, when nothing I know is for sure? I don’t, but it doesn’t bother me, because just to know there is another life - is good enough for me.

So, think about it. If there is nothing after death, then what’s the point? You’re born, you live, you die, one two three you’re out. Hell! “Life” isn’t a fucking baseball game is it? lol Oh yes, there is something out there all right, and we’ll eventually find out what it is, but does that mean we are content to just wait on that eventuality? Hell no. We want to find it before it finds us.

Looking. We’ve always been looking, since at least the teen years. Some of us even before that. Looking in books, on the Internet, watching movies, and listening to music. Ah, especially music. Listening to the words, feeling the music, we’ve always listened for that song. I haven’t found it yet, and if you can say, “you have”, then what are you doing here, listening to me?

Now here we are on this stream, and what are we doing? Looking. We be looking. We write poems, we read each other’s. We write stories and tell of life events, all the time looking. Looking into each other for that magical thing we’ve been looking for all of our lives, and not finding - yet.

Ah yes, a little Carlos. Santana… a mystical musician, and a mystical person I am told. Excuse me while I turn this volume up a little, go grab a Corona out of the fridge and light my favorite brand. Man I’m glad I live in the country; it would of took those “republican city boys” about 3 days to run me out of town, so I just went ahead and “took my time”, and found a nice little spot way out here in the woods. Kind of tired of cities anyway. Santana is drilling for oil, you know, and I’m loving it. You know.. they will be playing his music so far into the future, it would amaze us if we knew. And maybe we will, maybe we will. How do you make it through the day? I make it by thinking of the same shit I’m thinking of now, unless my frigging job has my mind held hostage. lol

“In the cool of the evening, love is kind of crazy with a spooky little girl like you”. I fell in love with a spooky little girl once, man that was a ride I didn’t think I was going to walk away from. But I did. Somehow. She was into Zen, pills, booze, smoke, men, and I always suspected though never knew for sure - women.

Have you ever “body surfed” in the ocean? Well that’s a good way to describe knowing this woman. Bodysurfing! Yeah, that describes her. When I was younger we used to body surf all the time, at least those times when I was near an ocean, which was every chance I had. Anyway, you really need a day when the waves are “breaking” really high, and coming in one after another. Once in Nam we were at Cam Rahn Bay, one of the safest places you could be in Nam, in fact, during the late sixties, Cam Rahn was probably safer than most U.S. Cities. For real. We, a buddy and me, had driven in from Phan Rang, which was about 80 miles away; we had about an hour of business there, and didn’t have to be back to our base till the next morning. In a land of seven-day workweeks, week after week, this was frigging vacation.

to be continued....ice