Chummy Uncle Hobart
Chummy Uncle Hobart
My family’s deadly history with sharks goes way back to this photo taken in 1916. That’s my Great Uncle Hobart, whom I sadly never got a chance to meet. My Grandfather claimed that Hobart was the chummiest, best looking waterman of his generation. A turn of the century bronze god, but cursed with a vain vanity and thirst for fame! He tragically died after this photo was taken - as these fossilized jaws accidentally snapped shut, cutting him into two bloody pieces.
Please show Uncle Hobart some love and visit Rusted Aloha’s store... linked in my bio… Ohhhh Uncle Hobart… You are forever missed. Love, Rusty!
More Posts from Rustedaloha and Others
DjKK Wins Wipeout Of The Year 2020
DJ Keala Kennelly banked this year’s 2020 Red Bull Big Wave Wipeout of the Year.
It was her fin free take-off at Jaws that quickly morphed into an aquatic, cement skipping, triple somersault down the face of Maui’s most notorious north side break that secured Keala this never-sought-after, but seriously revered, surf recognition.
Important to note, Keala has always been a freakin’ charger as well as a force for equal pay for women in surfing — AND the inclusion of more ladies onto the big wave circuit; she successfully pushed for women’s inclusion at the Titans of Mavericks.
Read More - Da Bob - YEW
Happy Birthday To... Me!
Tomorrow is my Birthday and my loving, wonderful, grown-up kids ordered me a few things online… #BirthdayPresents…
A New Cali State Park Day Pass Old School @katinusa Boardshorts Nat Young’s “Church of the Open Sky” and #Weed Suppositories?!?!? https://twitter.com/RustedAloha/status/1285729682051272704?s=20
The Lee Greenwood Bible... #OyVey https://popoff.us/rejoice-be-glad-for-the-god-bless-the-usa-bible-is-coming-2ec33d2d4603?sk=d554796da03682a0f560d406bc814d3d The forthcoming “God Bless The USA” Bible was inspired by… You guessed it!!! The proudest of all Americans, country music star, Lee Greenwood! No other singer in American history has profited more from waving the flag than this humble Nashville star, riding his tune through the country charts not once, but three times (1991, 2001 & 2003). Saint Greenwood’s endorsement will not only house the King James Version, it will also feature:- The Declaration of Independence - The US Constitution - The Bill of Rights - The Pledge of Allegiance As well as, the handwritten chorus to Greenwood’s own 1984 anthem “God Bless The USA”.
Poor Little Willy
by Rusty The other day I experienced a premature stick - usage - problem… Needless to say, this moment left me shocked and embarrassed; feeling like a fumbling grom, who just discovered Alana Blanchard’s cheeky bottom turn.
Yes, in my rush to surf a fresh swell, I allowed my fragile Freudian ego to get the best of me. Anticipating a pumping swell, my salty libido chose to ride a sexy mid-length 7’7”. How quickly did that lyin’ libido let me down! By shrinking all my shreddable powers in front of a full line-up of long-time partners and friends. Scaring my legendary status forever!
The sad truth is, I whipped out and tried to ride a stick the was clearly too small for my advanced age in conditions that were beyond sucky. I fell victim to my own super-ego, believing that I was still a young ripper ready to “Schralp the gnar gnar.”
Well, my gnar gnar did little schralping that morning as I blew my surf load way too early - in high tide - shitty San O’s. Afterwards I felt humiliated, dejected, less of man, bruised and battered. My ego vowed to rack that mid stick forever.
The following morning, I awoke to a pulsing swell and chose to ride my 9’0” log. That solid single fin worked well, but a few buddies of mine keep asking me why I was riding such a big board in above average surf; all of them knowing my proclivity for shredding perky peaks.
In between sets, I lamented about my previous day’s poor performance to a much more seasoned, sage surfer whom I have always looked up to. He listen to me while floating on his board outside the line-up taking in every debasing detail of my humiliating experience. After reliving the horror, he simply chuckled, paddled away and yelled, “Rusty, don’t worry! My doc has some great drugs that will fix your little willy.”
The Rusted Wives Club
by Rusty
About every 3 months or so, I undergo a Cardiac Stress Test. It is not by any means a pleasurable medical experience and normally leads me to examine many of my life's questionable decisions. But none the less, this medical inquiry offers my loved ones a measured sense of reassurance that my old, rusted butt is going to keep paddling around this watery planet… just a little bit longer.
The seriousness of this medical procedure really should not be understated. To ensure that my heart - and head - are in the right place before I undergo this test, my wife encourages me to find my “Happy Place” by hanging out at the beach and surfing with the boys. She understands that a good morning in the surf helps relax me, calms me down, puts me into that zen type place, “that only a surfer knows.”
It took me three wives to find the right lady, but #3 totally gets me.
With my toes freshly sanded and hair still salty, I am ready to have all the wires and electrodes attached to my wrinkled body… I have to say, it sucks getting old. With each year the probing and prodding of my anatomy gets deeper and deeper, sometimes reaching soul piercing depths.
So this is how the test normally starts; again, this happens about once every three months... I come home from a sunny surf session and find all three of My wives, in My living room, sipping several bottles of My wine… 2 Former Wives + 1 Current Wife = Spousal Overload... Instant Heart Attack or what my doctor has diagnosed as a Cardiac Stress Test!
If I was actually hooked up to an EKG machine, at that shocking moment, it would fucking blow up!
These “Tres Señoras de Rusty” love to do this to me; they love to see the horror on my face, the fear in my eyes, the sweat build up on my upper lip. They love to redline Rusty’s old ticker!
Once the initial shock wears off, after I gulp down a glass of wine, the inevitable questions of my actual health come up. Because folks, here’s the bottom, without me, this “Rusted Wives Club” would have no financing!
This medical farce is actually a quarterly business meeting, called to order by the three owners’ of “Rusted Beauties.” Each quarter’s agenda consists of only one bullet point and that is simply my health; or rather their complex, non-medical assessment of my well-being and how that could affect their lavish purses. For the three of them, it is a fun afternoon of risk management done over a few bottles of wine. For me, it’s the fuel that will ensure that I outlive them all!
Aloha.
Doctor My Eyes - Jackson Browne Doctor, my eyes Tell me what is wrong Was I unwise to leave them open for so long
Patiently… Dealing With Life’s Kooks
by Rusty
There is a Zen thing all true surfers seem to tap into at some point during their salty existence. This happens when the impatience of youth surrenders to the power of Mother Nature. When a true surfer recognizes and accepts the swells, tides, waxing & waning moons… This centered place of Zen can only be learned over time; time spent searching for the right position to catch watery ripples of energy, seconds of time spent joyfully sliding, trimming and riding that amazing energy. The more time us flawed humans spend diving into the ocean, the more we discover how small we really are, in this big and crazy world. For the open minded, this all translates into the graceful gift of patience.
So, how come the older I get, the more impatient I grow everywhere else in my life?
I have no patience for my neighbors… Please mow your lawns and take down last year’s Christmas lights!
No patience for all you kooks on my freeway!
No patience for people who walk around while staring at their cellphones!
I have not patience for anything Bluetooth!!!
No patience for my expensive “High-Speed” internet! Freaking load already!
No patience for the gum-chewing blonde pharmacy assistant, who always forgets to refill my life-depending meds!.
No patience for $4.50 Grande Lattes! Hey kid, all I want is a black cup of coffee... To go!
No patience for airport security… How many TSA kooks does it take to waive a magnetic wand around my junk?
No patience for the “New Math” my grandkids don’t understand!
No patience for 909ers who show up at San O’s during a good swell and create a never ending line just to get down the hill… Pick up your trash & go home!
Oh shit… where’s my Xanax? I need to go surfing and get my thumping blood pressure under control.
Aloha Kooks!!!
This is dedicated to all you 909er’s (951, 657, 760…) You know exactly who you are! Surf Punks - My Beach
WSL Goes Hollywood With Jonah Hill
by Da Bob
“Honey, honey, call me on the telephone I know you’re movin’ out to Hollywood
With your can of tasty foam…“
Not only a Rolling Stones song from ‘72, but the best way to describe what is coming out of 2020’s World Surf League offices.
#starf*cker Yup, and the star the WSL has chosen to lose it’s virginity to is … Oscar-nominated writer, actor, director, and surfer (???) Jonah Hill!
Read More - Da Bob - YEW
https://twitter.com/RustedAloha
Self Quarantine / Social Distancing
Everybody talking about... #SelfQuarantine??? #SocialDistancing??? What's the big deal? The wife and I have been quarantined from one another since she discovered @Amazonand I found @Pornhub!
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surfersrule reblogged this · 3 years ago -
surfersrule liked this · 3 years ago
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rustedaloha reblogged this · 3 years ago
I hate people who trash the beach & don’t share waves! Groms & their shitty music! Kooks who ride Costco foam boards! But my aloha spirt is still alive.
31 posts