Mondays; our lost hours.


Mondays have been our beach days his fall. Today we drove down to our childhood home town, Corona del Mar and met up with Topher’s dad at little a few blocks from the homes where Toph and I grew up. Toph, the kid, Bastian and I spent the day running on the rocks and tide pools and trying to bodysurf. Ron-Topher’s dad- just sat on the beach and read. We kept talking about how it reminded us of being little kids each summer when Ron would walk us down to the beach and lay out while Topher, my brother and I went boogie boarding until it was time to head back up the hill for dinner. Ron would often dig sand crabs out of the wet ground and bite their heads off just to freak us out. After it got dark we walked back up to Ron’s house and drank some beers and cazadores while waxing nastolgic on the old house. We ran up to the top floor and showed the kid the little storage closet that used to be Topher’s hang out. It was still tagged up  with all the graffitti of our favorite bands and anarcho-slogans. cimg0911

Monday beach days make for a nice starting point to the week and the beaches are so beautifully uncrowded in the fall heading into winter. We ended up sitting around the living room speculating on tomorrow’s elections and trying to get our heads around the history and changes of the little town we grew up in.



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