California Dreamin’… Bra.

Loaded three surfboards, some black tees, and a leather jacket in the car the other day. Toronto faded away in the rearview: on the road. The destination was California.

It’s not that far: 4000+ kilometers. 40+ hours of full-speed driving. 4 nights, 5 days. Alone. Just the music and I.

“Dance, dance, dance, to the radio.”

The year is 2012. Toronto is home, but not home base – new beginnings, no goodbyes. I live in California. And I surf. Sound familiar? Only this time I quit nothing. Everything is opposite. Anything is possible. We started a magazine loosely based around surfing called LATER. It’s a lifestyle and we live it. This relentless pursuit of good times; it ain’t for the cameras. We bleed it. We don’t have a choice, but if we did would it be any different? Because we need something different.

“And we would go on as though nothing was wrong.
And hide from these days we remained all alone.”

The year is 1990. I am somewhere between the ages of 5 and 9 years old. It was many moons ago. Holding a snowboard magazine in my hands, Dano Pendygrasse still did wicked airs. Ross Rebagliati still smoked the weed. Craig Kelly board’d the world and became World Champion. These pages would shape everything. The airs and the powder. The lifestyle, not the weed. I aspired to live in a resort parking lot. Magazines will let you dream. Magazines will ruin your life. Print will let you live if you’re open to it. Dreaming vs. living – there is a difference.

“Staying in the same place, just staying out the time.
Touching from a distance,
Further all the time.”
“And we could Dance.”

This is unreal. These are my dreams. Only palm trees obstruct the sun. Malibu mornings and Hollywood nights; Trestles mornings and sleepless nights. I do live too comfortably oceanfront, but a parking lot would still suffice. What a selfish existence you say? No. I do this for you. Not you. You.

“A change of speed, a change of style.
A change of scene, with no regrets,
A chance to watch, admire the distance,
Still occupied, though you forget.”

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Andrew Sayer

About Andrew Sayer

"Ah," she cried, "you look so cool." Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other, alone in space. With an effort she glanced down at the table.“You all just think you’re so much cooler then everybody else," she repeated. And who are we to judge if she’s right or wrong?