Ungrateful Son of A...

By John Angiulo

I’m sick of this place. Over it. Ooverrr it. That’s the general attitude of me and pretty much everyone I know who lives in New York. It starts around maybe January and definitely sets in by February. The cold seeps in through the doors of houses and cars. The grind extends itself into month long weeks. Terminal boredom sets in. Instagram becomes dangerous. You might catch a glimpse of someone in a bathing suit on a beach having a beer midday during a Wednesday and go into longwinded daydreams of quitting your job and telling your boss what you really think about them. 


Because of that I’ve tried to create a different life, and this winter I got to travel a bunch. I was in different countries, meeting amazing people and doing new and exciting things. I did all of that based on trying to be able to surf as much as possible. Because no matter what the weather is like if I'm surfing every day then I am happy. 


But in between my travels I realized something. I’m an ingrate.

I came home from Baja for three days before heading to Nicaragua. In the course of that three days winter storm Riley came to town. It was perfect six foot A-frame barrels until the sun erupted in one of the most vibrant sunsets I remember seeing. 

What a weekend

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It wasn't uncommon for someone to pack 10 to 15 kegging barrels per session. Yes, it was cold, but not that cold and the incredible beauty of the contrast between seeing Long Beach buildings reflecting purple light next to snow covered dunes through the scope of perfectly cylindrical waves was just epic. 


Not only that but this feeling was shared with a community of people I know. People I’ve been surfing with, chilling with, partying with, learning with, growing up with, for the last twenty years. And after the amazing, mind bendingly stunning surf session is over we all go to some local spot we love, crush a few brews together, have a good feed and laugh as much as we can. 


And that’s when I realized I’m an ingrate. I mean, don’t get me wrong, traveling is the jam and I recommend it highly. But we shouldn’t overlook how lucky we all are to get to be part of this place and this community. We’re next to one of the best cities in the world while the waves can be and have been world class. The winter gives us time to recharge and get creative before the heat and excess of summer time play mode. And perhaps, most importantly, there’s a ton of rad people around. 


Thanks Riley

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During that swell, I left wishing I could stay for more of it. I was wishing I could stay and hangout in New York instead of go to Nicaragua.  Lines rolled into the coast, the sun was bright against blue skies and my friends were all suiting up hundreds of feet below me to get ready for another day of bliss. In the plane leading to go on another adventure, looking longingly at waves pouring into my home New York looked at me and I heard her speak.  


She batted her long eyes lashes, walked in the morning light that showed her curves, waved to me teasingly and blew me a kiss. I flew away wanting more and thats when I heard her talk. She said, that’s what you get for being an ungrateful son of a...