Cornered

it has been a beautiful

fight

still

is.

Doing this has its perks — whatever “this” is. It requires me to stare at surf iconography for most of the day. Photos. Videos. Words. I get sent whatever surf gear I want. I haven’t paid for a wetsuit in years — I have like nine dry ones and two wet ones. My board rack is full — too full, I’m selling five of them on Craigslist right now.

If I want to go on a surf trip somewhere, I probably know the local kingpin from the area and I can get them to tell me where to surf, eat, drink, dance and sleep. I’m a flaneur of the coast and go into a catatonic observation state anytime I’m within eyeshot of an ocean. I can read weather maps and could explain groundswell to your great aunt from the Midwest and have it make sense to her.

I’ve been on a boat trip with Taj Burrow and gave a speech while standing on a bar, arm in arm with Andy Irons. I have an obscene amount of useless knowledge about pro surfers and pro surfing. And while my attempts to paddle against the current most of my career haven’t always been financially lucrative, I’ve lived a very fulfilling surf life.

I say “lived” as if I’m leaving. I’m not. We’re not. But if I’m being honest, I’ve brushed up my LinkedIn account more than a few times the past few months. Not due to lack of enthusiasm for surfing or surf culture, only because it felt as if the nuts and bolts holding something as ridiculous as Inherent Bummer together (an industry) are loosening and threatening to fall apart. But every time I open my resumé and see there isn’t a section for my Andy Irons speech and that my boat trip with Taj Burrow experience is unnecessary, I close that up and get back to fucking work on making thishappen. If we built this city on rock n’ roll, maybe it’s time we build a new one on hardcore psych rock. (Hi sharks, anyone wanna build a new surf industry? Call us).

Today we sit on the precipice of six years of whatever “this” Inherent Bummer thing is and there is no chance it’s going anywhere — mostly because I don’t wanna pay for wetsuits. But also because our new favorite garage psych band Chorduroy released a video and single. We made you a new episode of Reel Talk. Two Percent’s most authentic punk made you a playlist and there’s all kinds of Notes from the Underground to share. Besides, we’re too small to fail anyway.

To put a bow on this little rant, let’s end as we began: With some words from the against-all-odds mailman pony gambling poet who put why we do this best:  

these punks

these cowards

these champions

these mad dogs of glory

moving this little bit of light toward

us

impossibly.

 We aren’t going anywhere. There’s too much light to share. —Travis Ferré