Oh, R.E.M., I didn’t think I was going to write about this so soon, but your awesome song kinda left me no choice. Last time you graced us with the presence of what is one of my favoritest of your songs, we talked about how I’m not real great with directions. Well, it may shock you, R.E.M., but there are actually a number of things that I’m not real great with. Standing being one of them. I’m not what one would call coordinated. I don’t have what one would call good motor skills. I’ve compensated for this by trying to be the least active I can be, although that particular tactic has led to me having the silhouette of a certain Alfred Hitchcock.
But occasionally, life makes you have to stand. Or even worse, stand on a surfboard.
As you may know, R.E.M., my wife and I recently embarked on a belated honeymoon. It took us to Seattle, where we visited some much-loved friends and their new baby, and then we traveled to the Hawaiian islands, always a dream of mine, where I was able to stand in the ocean and stand on a boat and watch a whale stand on his/her tail. In Kaua’i, I discovered there are also a lot of wild chickens who like to stand pretty much anywhere. Point is, my dreams were to stand in certain places, and that’s what I did, and I felt fulfilled.
Unfortunately, my wife’s dreams involved flying in Magnum, P.I.’s helicopter and learning how to surf. And apparently, part of any good marriage is to participate in activities together.
I did all right in the chopper and was even able to keep all my food inside my body even though my stomach disagreed with me on several occasions. It gave me enough confidence that when we took our surf lessons that afternoon, I figured how bad could it be? I’d seen several people taking lessons while I was having lunch at the ocean-side bar, and everyone seemed to be making a pretty respectable go of it. And it was my wife’s dream, so what’s the worst that could happen?
Well, R.E.M., if you said that the worst thing that could happen is to find yourself in one of the most humiliating experiences of your life, you would have provided the correct answer.
It started out all right, R.E.M. We put on some rash guards and swim shoes, and we went down to the water’s edge with an unbelievably tan, muscled, and emotionally distant surfing instructor who showed us the basic surfing moves on the nice, solid ground. He showed us how to paddle and he showed us how to lay on the board and he showed us how to get into the proper surf position. I was nervous, but feeling pretty good.
And then we got into the water. And I tried to get onto the surfboard. And I tried again. And again. And sometimes I’d kind of make it on, but it wouldn’t be long before I flipped back into the water again. At some point I stayed on the board long enough to actually try to paddle to the place we were supposed to be surfing from and I discovered two things:
1. I am unable to paddle a surfboard.
2. I am ridiculously out of shape.
By this time, another surf instructor had joined us as they realized that someone was going to have to babysit my bloated carcass. He was a very nice man, and also ridiculously fit, but there was no hiding that I was a hopeless case. He told me to relax and that I could just sit on my surfboard for awhile. Which I tried to do. And promptly flipped over. He helped me figure out a better way to climb back onto my surfboard and told me that if I needed to I could just lie there on my stomach. Which I did, clutching the sides of that surfboard like I used to clutch a Big Mac. And promptly flipped over. And again. And again. Perhaps I would have been able to maintain some kind of balance were I to actually lie flat on the board, but as was pointed out to me by a very honest co-worker, it’s hard to lie flat on a basketball when you’re on a surfboard in the middle of the ocean (incidentally, I have now named my gut Spalding).
Meanwhile, my wife’s basically doing handstands out in the waves.
At some point, I was pushed out into the ocean and rode one wave while clutching that despicable surfboard in a desperate lover’s embrace. I will admit, I understood the appeal of riding a wave when I felt the force of it spit me toward shore. And then I flipped over. Again. And tried flopping back onto the board again, looking much like an elephant seal does when he’s galumphing onto the beach.
I’m not a good enough writer to truly explain to you how humiliating it is to have a gorgeous specimen of a man pull you and your surfboard around with nothing more than his big toe while you uselessly flail at the water. While your wife watches. Along with several of the resort guests watching from the bar.
To add insult to injury, part of the lesson package included another surfer taking pictures of you so you’ll always remember one of the lowest points in your life. And unbeknownst to me, one of the pictures was a “candid” shot of me and the two buff surf instructors facing the camera, me pointing out to the ocean, presumably asking “Surfing is easy, right?” and wearing my borrowed rash guard.
Let me explain something to you about a rash guard, R.E.M. They are snug. They are form-fitting. They leave nothing to the imagination. Especially when they’re powder blue. I knew I was looking pretty rough, R.E.M., but when you stuff me into a tight shirt and stand me next to real men. . .the fact that my wife and I are still together after she saw that picture is a testament to her unwavering love for me, R.E.M.
So I never stood on that surfboard, R.E.M. I didn’t even sit on it. I was BARELY able to lie down on it. I was able to curse on it, though. And weep. But stand? No way.
Maybe some day, some faraway day, when Spalding is a bit more deflated and I can walk up a flight of stairs without getting winded, maybe then I’ll fly back out to that resort and find those two golden surfer gods and show them I’ve got what it takes to catch a wave. But right now, I just need to catch my breath. And shame eat.
“Stand”
Stand in the place where you live
Now face north
Think about direction, wonder why you haven’t before
Now stand in the place where you work
Now face west
Think about the place where you live, wonder why you haven’t before
If you are confused
Check with the sun
Carry a compass
Ta help you along
Your feet
Are goin’
To be on the ground
Your head
Is there
To move you around, so stand in the place where you live
Now face north
Think about direction, wonder why you haven’t before
Now stand in the place where you work
Now face west
Think about the place where you live, wonder why you haven’t before
Your feet
Are goin’
To be on the ground
Your head
Is there
To move you around
If wishes were trees
The trees would be fallin’
Listen to reason
Season is callin’
Stand in the place where you live
Now face north
Think about direction, wonder why you haven’t before
Now stand in the place where you work
Now face west
Think about the place where you live, wonder why you haven’t before
<awesome R.E.M. jam>
If wishes were trees
The trees would be fallin’
Listen to reason
Reason is callin’
Your feet
Are goin’
To be on the ground
Your head
Is there
To move you around, so stand (stand!)
Now face north
Think about direction, wonder why you haven’t before
Now stand (stand!)
Now face west
Think about the place where you live, wonder why you haven’t
Stand in the place where you live
Now face north
Think about direction, wonder why you haven’t before
Now stand in the place where you work
Now face west
Think about the place where you live, wonder why you haven’t before
Stand in the place where you are (now face north)
Stand in the place where you are (now face west)
Stand in the place where you are (your feet are goin’ to be on the ground)
Stand in the place where you are (your head is there to move you around)
So staannnnd
Mixed Tape Masterpiece 