Sorry Mate, I’m Doing The SurfAid Make A Wave Thing, So I’m Going This One
Hold it right there, buster. I know you’re on the inside, and I know it’s a nice wave, but I think it might be mine. I just deserve it that little bit more.
Honestly, it feels a bit weird bringing this up, and it’s SO not a big deal, really, and Lord knows, last thing I want is any attention, but just so you know, I’m doing this SurfAid Make A Wave thing, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be asserting ownership of this lovely little peeler. I’m sure there’ll be anothery after it.
It may seem unfair, but what you’ll learn after walking a mile in my shoes is…how can I put this without sounding condescending?…I was once a self-absorbed young buck, but I’ve come to understand that it’s only when you put the needs of others ahead of your own that you can begin to live a truly meaningful life.
And that’s why I’ve committed to going for a surf every single day of this month.
I know, right! Not really a burden, is it, surfing every day. Hardly a hardship! It’s like committing to eating a pie every lunchtime for a month, or promising to have a beer/spliff/wank every 24 hours. Like, where’s the part where I’m having to endure some sort of deprivation or whatever to actually earn the coin from my benefactors?
You’re right, there was a nobility to that 40-hour famine malarkey – a night of mild, growling-tummy discomfort that’d give you a small taste of the cause you were confronting – that going for a surf for 30 days straight can’t really lay claim to.
Come to think of it. On some level, it’s not far removed from those pro surfers who bang on about the ‘sacrifices’ they’ve made along the way to greatness. (Newsflash, fuckers! Training hard, eating well, foregoing nights out etc – that’s strategy, ambition, work, investment for personal reward. It’s not, ah, ‘sacrifice’.)
And, yes, you could argue that, for the cohort most likely to take on the September ‘challenge’, perhaps a more laudable exercise would be to stay out of the ocean for 30 days straight – or maybe if the northerlies fire up early and the water’s thick with bluebottles, then we might have us some fricken narrative traction to work with.
Sir, your death stare as we paddle side by side for this glassy gem implies all these valid concerns. And to be honest, sometimes I wonder if I’m doing this largely because it gives me license to run a fuck-ton of my best surf shot on my socials for 30 days.
Yeah but so what? This is the one month of the year the missus doesn’t give me grief for surfing my ring off, so I couldn’t give a shit about you poking holes in the whole thing. And the bucks I’ll raise will improve the lives of real folk who’d kill to have the luxury of the hardship of surfing every day for a month.
So fuck you. I’m going this one, and I’ll see you in Movember.
// DING ALLEY
(Note: Ding Alley is donating payment for this article to SurfAid's Make A Wave)
Ding Alley is confused writerer Gra Murdoch and comparatively well-adjusted illustrator pal David @maccatoons McArthur