Terry Martin has literally spent as much time holding a Skil 100 in his hands as Griffin has spent breathing. And yet, there is a kinship.
A web of experience links us dynamically. There is the shared excitement of the night-before-the-dawn, the early bird's delight, The moment of real fear when you are a ghost of your dream surfer, peering over the edge of your local break at just-out-of-comfort-zone size. We see it in each others' eyes, glassed over from a glass half-full outlook on life born of a transcendental pursuit. The pedestrian act of the surf check is our weekly parade through the stations of the cross. Our collective memory revolves around saints who you might meet on State Street or on the hills of Oregon. Accessible, assessable.
But really, it is a selfish enterprise. We want to share the love of the experience, but not the wave. A grand argument between theologians has long surrounded the question of the true nature of the human spirit. Are we generous and good? Are we selfish and bad? Yes.
And in the picture above Griffin is listening. And Terry is telling. And so goes the stoke of one surfer to another. Shaper of yesterday and now to shaper of tomorrow. Here is the difference. Here is how surfing and surfboards are different. Mass produced commodities of the pre-pubescent mega consumer be damned. Bring forth the young and the willing to listen, learn, surf, and shape. Griffin, when you shape your 100th look me up. I've got an order for you.