sugey-shots

Update - 5/28

Marty needed some more test to update his diagnosis of his condition, so the day before yesterday he went off to UCLA/Westwood Hospital.  He is in Room 6641 in the north wing.  Tel # 310-267-6200  room 6641.  He does have his phone but doesn't always answer.  You can visit him at any hour, just call ahead to make sure he is there.  He may be there through Sunday or Monday.



Dru

Meth Model

sugey-boy '69

On Competition

Marty was a much better competitor than I.   Going to Orange Coast College was probably just a ploy so he could room with his Guru, Corky.  He had the desire to participate in contests despite what Mikki would say.  He formed a contest strategy and used it pretty effectively.   I was a more of a reluctant participant and mainly surfed in local contests.  Marty and I rarely competed directly against one another.  One summer we did in a double "A" event held at Sunset ( not to be confused with Sunset Beach, Hawaii). We general surfed State Beach at the bottom of the Santa Monica on a daily basis unless Malibu had swell.  Marty would daily act out the role of the coach, plying us with compliments and subtle hints about what was "good competitive behavior".  He was are resident "best competitive surfer" and he relished the role.  He loved to act as if he was above the fray.  He would have made a good benevolent dictator.   So, the appointed day roles around and Marty had been telling me that: " this could be your contest", meaning I was a regular foot, who liked going right, at right point breaks.  It was all designed to soften me up.  My friend, my fellow team member, the guy that would do me no wrong.  We make it to the finals.  " It's me and you, Rob", he says, "We're going to win this thing".  It was typical weak, inconsistent, contest "must go on" type surf.  Marty new my short comings, like, I was not patient in waiting for waves.  A set comes and he says: "This one is it.  I'll give it to you, Rob.  Go!".  And go I did.  Of course Marty had played me, and he got great satisfaction out of it, the better wave laid outside.  He won I lost.    Marty you're forgiven.  All kidding aside, I love Marty and we always laugh about all this stuff. 
Thanks Marty for the memories. 
Mahalo, Robbie

"I'll take care of it"

On another occasion we were heading south and stopped at a diner, just off the freeway near Capistrano.  We were eating our breakfast when Marty excused himself from the table.  We continued to finish up when Marty reappeared at the window, out side the diner.  He had this big shit eating grin on his face as pulled bill from behind his back and pasted it against the window.  With the smile on his face and a tilt of his head, we knew it was time to go!  We exited we made a beeline to my Van and jumped in.   Around the rear corner of the restaurant come the Chief and his crew.  And they had the Iron held high.  It was time to scream and get out of there.   They placed a couple of notches in the rear corner panel of my VW Van.



Robbie Dick

PB Police Riot

I liked Skip and Gary recounting of the Pacific incident.  Very funny guys!  Of course, I was there and very much enjoyed there summations.  We called it a "Police Riot" , which is what was happening quite a  bit in this country at that time.  It was really old and stale politico---Johnson and Vietnam---followed by Nixon.  There was just something wrong about our leaders and for the Baby Boomers the jig was up.  I too remember when they were pulling over cars indiscriminately and searching them.   Seeing this cop clad in riot gear come up from the floor boards of a old Econoline van with a seed clinched between two fingers saying " I've got it". Got what, you stupid fuck, the Hope Fucking Diamond? Then they beat up this string bean of a guy and heave him into a paddy wagon.  It was so wrong and the police were RIOTING out of control.  The incident was thrilling, extremely funny, and sort of scary, because , you know,  they had sticks and were pleasuring themselves with there use.


Robbie Dick

The Black Ball

In the early 1960's LA county lifeguards decided to institute the "No Surfing Policy", better known as the "Black Ball Flag".   The Black Ball would be hoisted at 10 am everyday from June 1st  until Labor Day, no matter WHAT!  State Beach was the, surf check, gathering place, and general dissemination point for surfers.  The older generation, lead by Dora, told us that we had better stand up for ourselves or we would be trampled by the masses.   At first there was some grousing, but we all knew that eventually the day would come.   About a week later a nice little wind swell showed up and all the elements did too!  Mikki, Marty, Darryl, Spider, Terry and all the Chicken's of the Sea membership.  The publics beach attendance was nil.  The surf was really fun and then .... "the black ball" was hoisted.  Probably about half of the thirty surfers out at the time complied like little lambs.  I was sitting with the pack and was drawn into the vortex.  After  about  minutes Don Rohrer sensed that something was up.  He got out the bull horn and and ask for compliance and when he got none he started to threaten.  Soon he announced that the police would be called. Marty now began issuing orders to hold fast.  And hold we did.  I was mostly a witness to shannanigans that had transpired over the last few years between elements which surrounded Dora and directed little thing towards the lifeguards in general and Rohrer more specifically.  I am sure that Don was hoping to get Mikki arrested, fuck, for what? Surfing.  But Marty was ruining his day as Don liked all of us and probably caught him off balance.  The Police huddled up on the beach figuring on what to do.  They certainly were not entering the water.  They looked out of place and were also hamstrung by what would happen.  Would they have to arrest ten or twelve no compliers?  It was an empowering moment for Marty and his band of misfits. You'll have to ask Marty what the outcome was?

Robbie Dick

"look, man"

I spoke to Marty yesterday and he was old Marty.He really loves the tails of his high jinks..Skip  he "said"tell them about are surf contest summer.So here goes Marty shows up at the Natural  Progression factory one day and gets Robbie Dick and I a side and says look there are all these long board contests coming this summer and we should go do them.This was 1983 or 1984 this is be for the new wave of long boarding stated.Even during the 1970,s I all ways still had a longboard laying around Jeff Ho made me a new one in 1974 a 8ft10" called the 12lb bass which  I would take to MALIBU on small days to surf first point which in 1970,s no one really surfed much because third was the wave and packed in back then.First was just old guys who did not what any thing to do with the new short boards.So now its the 1980,s and the first long board contest in years is going to take place at 15tstreetin DEL MAR.So here,s Marty at my house 3:30am Robbie Dick in tow with a rented station wagon packed with water and drinks plus a nice bottle of wine and some real glasses.  And we are off to the races so to speak.  Did I mention Marty was funding the whole thing.Yea tthat's Marty was my moneyman.  Now let me say surf contests were not my strong point.Marty and ROB how ever were all ways good contest surfers  but not me.  Both of them truth be know were very under rated surfers due to what ever politics that took place down at the surf rags and the fact they would surf a lot of private beaches out of the lime light.  So we are now at the beach and ready for my first heat and Marty is now my coach Dale Dobson is in my first heat along with some other hotshot guys so it looks like MR.Skip is in for a bad day.  Marty goes: look man

Skip Engblom

Ride on Marty

As requested here are some stories of my time with Marty Sugarman:

Marty and I met at State Beach in Santa Monica and surfed Malibu together as well. One day back in 1965 I told Marty I was going to Hawaii for the summer and asked if he wanted to come with. It turned out to be a full blown 'surf safari' even though we mostly just surfed the breaks of Waikiki for a couple of months that summer. We lived in "The Surfboarder Motel", had no car, and carried our sticks everywhere. The hotel was a two story dump at the corner of Liliuokalani and Kalakaua on the beach  at Waikiki, and we would hang out on the planter wall in front of "Da Swamp" bar on Kalakaua at night to talk to 'tourists' (nudge, nudge, wink wink). We met a few people with Marty's flamboyant dialogue and my 'surfer tan' and spent some quality time out of the water on those warm summer nights! One night sitting in front of the Da Swamp bar a creature ran up my arm and I jumped for high heaven! Turned out it was a cockroach about an inch and a half long. (Coming from Pacific Palisades and Malibu I had never seen a cockroach! Now staying at my RV park on Boulder Highway in Las Vegas you can go out and see their Kumbaya parties every night because the sewer runs right under the middle of that boulevard and they come up out of the manholes at night and do their dance!) 

We enjoyed many good days of surf at Queen's, King's, Number 3's, rock pile and Ala Moana. The warm water was such a great change from the 'frigid' temperatures in California that you didn't even hesitate to go out. And in the warm water a go out usually lasted between 3 to 5 hours.  We also found out that July is not the greatest surf month in Hawaii so we did some tourist things like visiting Hanama Bay and walking out around the northeastern point to 'the toilet bowl'. It's a really fun little volcanic hole in the shore lava about eight feet in diameter with a crack that runs out into the ocean. When the waves come in the water flow is amplified by the lava crack and comes squirting up out of the toilet bowl and all the people in it get a 'hydro-vertical ride' and are plopped on the surrounding smooth lava. It's like a blow hole only bigger so it doesn't shoot up high into the air.

Since the surf was generally small we also went searching for kicks and back then you could still jump off of Waimea Falls (about 50 feet in one spot and 70 in another). Yep, we jumped off that. The low cliff anyway. Kinda scary climbing up a mossy waterfall so you can jump off a cliff but that's what young jackasses do.

One of our greatest eating joys was the buffet at the Queen Surf Restaurant close to Diamond Head in Kapiolani Park. It was open air dining and at sunset you could watch surfers silhouetted against the flaming orange horizon catching their last waves of the day at King's surf. Once Marty asked one of the Hawaiian servers at the restaurant what a certain dessert dish was and in heavy pigeon English he said "Dat's Dello".  It was Jello, but that became one of our pigeon English jokes for rest of the trip. Got dello! The full buffet was $3.50!!! We ate so much we would have to waddle out into the park and just lay on the grass under the palm trees for an hour after the meal. The place was packed every night and we'd leave with a huge stack of dirty dishes on our table! The 'restaurant Mafia' of Waikiki has since had it torn down and now there is just a cement slab. And where Da Swamp bar and our Motel was is now a McDonald's! You can see the McDonald's on a google satellite map view now! Of course back then there were no personal computers, no Internet, no satellite pictures and no Google Earth. Times change. So today from my computer in Las Vegas I took a little trip down memory lane and looked all over my 1965 Hawaiian stomping grounds via satellite! It's still there, but no Surfboarder Motel or Da Swamp bar!

Now Marty has light sensitive skin and burned easily so there was a little challenge for him in Hawaii, but not to worry. One day we were sunbathing with some girls from the San Fernando Valley on the beach in front of the YWCA complex near Number 3's. One of the girls was fair skinned and had put Zinc Oxide on her breasts for sun protection just above her bikini top. Marty asked if he could have some of her Zinc Oxide for his sensitive nose and when the girls said yes, Marty reached down and scooped a big finger full of the cream from her breast and applied it to his nose! Needless to say we were with the girls for the rest of their short stay. Now I understand the term 'Valley Girls'.

We knew there would be good surf in August at Malibu so we cut our trip a bit short and decided to head back. But wouldn't you know it, the day we had to fly out a huge south swell came in! We didn't  really have time for much of a go out because we had to pack and tape our boards in the cardboard boxes the airlines used to provide before the introduction of the reflective coated zipper board bags of today. I did take movies of the swell because it was really a good one. Line after line all the way to the horizon and we went to the top of one of the new high rise buildings to film it. I've still got the 8mm film and projector in my storage bin near Sacramento! The last time I watched the films was with Mitch Lachman in Santa Cruz in 2001!

Ride on Marty!

Walt Ely

dark side

Aloha Steve-

My Marty story-While working for Dick Metz and Hobie Alter as manager of the Hobie Surf Board in Santa Monica about 1963, we got the ok to form a Surf Team. How was I going to suduce alot of my pals to the "dark side" when they were already enjoying positions on teams like Dave Sweet, Dewey Weber, Natural Progression, etc..??

Got the word from Dick that the guys could order any kind of a Team Board a new rider would want. Marty went for the most expensive and elaborate stringer set up known to mankind.  It was really nice and one of a kind.  Marty totally ripped on it. His creativity in design inspired most of tghe otgher guys to get creative.  It was years later when I learned that the Santa Monica Hobie Team boards were the most expensive boards Hobie had ever produced. It took the shop months and months just to get to a break even bottom line in order to pay for the boards!  Way to go Marty! We all loved it.

Continue to get well, Marty, and remember the words from Micky Munoz..."Water is Life"

Aloha

David Rochlen

Date: Thu, 28 Apr 2011 10:14:19 -0700 (PDT)

YOU GO BOYS

Forward from Dave Rochlen in Hawaii:

Aloha Rich and all of the Troops-

This is soooo classic and soooo true.  YOU GO BOYS!

Also, I did not take kindly to the suggestion that I keep my conversations with my HERO Marty Sugerman to a minimum so as to not "use up his minutes", especially when he needs to hear from his lifetime pals.  If you feel the same way I do, then, do what I did.

Call AT&T 800-331-0500 and put $100 onto Marty's account so you can and a/or all of us can speak to Marty as long as we want to.

Aloha to ALL-

The Long Bar

Apri 27, 2011

I'm just fine Rich...my book is on the very last stretch before completion  it's gonna have over 60 chaps and be 500-plus pages...I'm on the Precipice of fame and fortune...enough about me... 

 I met Marty for the first time in Tijuana at The Long Bar...it was a typical Friday night south of the border during the mid sixties...the bar was filled with at least forty surfers with one common goal in mind...to get tanked enough so tht we could handle the "dancers" at the Green Note a/o the Blue Fox....Marty was with a bunch from the South Bay....I was with my bunch from Tustin...during the night of frivolity and debauchery, Marty and i built up an instant kindred friendship...

A few months later my mom kicked me outa her house in Tustin cuz I ditched school thirty days out of a possible sixty. The waves were too, too good to pass on. I moved to live with my dad and enrolled in Pali High. Marty and I renewed our friendship, flashing on what strange twists of fate were loose in the universe. I can remember sitting around Tony's table playing poker with Marty, David Anawalt, Scott Paley, Jim  McGovern and Ron Gardener and some other chaps like it was yesterday... 

Eric Parr

Beaver

From: theodora kane

Sent: Wed, April 27, 2011 11:36:45 PM

Subject: Re: Tales of Marty

         I remember Marty and those famous parties we all used to go to and please tell me what was the name of the funny club you boys had? I remember that it had the word "beaver" in it...was it The Beaver Patrol??? He was always such a rascal and so full of light and life and so naughty and bad ass. There was always a  jokester  twinkle in his eyes and he was fearless. I always admired that about him...no limitations, everything was possible with Marty in your midst...Love, Theodora

BPWA

April 29, 2011 11:21:11 AM PDT

Well we had several clubs and I'm not sure which ones Marty was in. Ernie Knapp's club was the "Brentwood Pelt Whackers Association" or BPWA for short and they rented a small apartment for 'parties'. And Chris Gordon started "Chickens of the Sea" and made T-shirts. Then we had "Hoshi Reef Surf Club" for the guys who surfed the rock pile North of the Lighthouse jetty. For that club we all had custom trunks made at Ron's beachwear in the canyon that were maroon with a white stripe around the center. And then there was Malibu Surfing Association. Don't remember the beaver club but I'm sure there was one!

Walt Ely

Perceptions

Date: Fri, Apr 29, 2011 at 6:53 PM

Subject:

In Praise of Marty by Erasmus Meringue Carue

That his perceptions are uniquely askew is putting the most intriguing quality about Marty a little too mildly. His literal and intellectual center of gravity is a bit lower (in the positive and empowering sense) than the average person, which translates in the literal sense into that extraordinary surfing style related in talent to those "genetic" goofy-foot surf stars of the present short-board era, and especially to those casual, spectacular, always under control Golden Age Surfers with names like Corky Carroll, David Nuiiwa, Gerry Lopez, Jock Sutherland, and Wayne Lynch, who were so much in the limelight and focal points of the idolizing, surf-magazine buying public of yesterday year. Marty's lower- concentrated- intellectual center of gravity translates into all of his mind-boggling, eclectic accomplishments: scholar, photographer with many publications to his credit, intellectual, entrepreneur, professor, painter (canvas--not house), world traveling photo journalist, surfer, conversationalist, witticist, and friend who always will lend his ear, with his unique combination of humor and compassion, to whatever story or dilemma a fellow sojourner may be needing to discuss with him.

 This is not meant to be a panegyric about someone who has transcended the pitfalls of karma of us mortals, for Marty has plenty enough devilish attributes that serve to spice up with flare and color his oft mentioned flamboyant personality.

  I, myself, don't have any radical surf adventures or escapades to add to what's already been said by Marty's other surf buddies, only that, throughout the 4-5 decades that I've known Marty, it's been a happy surprise to see his tan, smiling face appear during the hundreds and hundreds of encounters that I've had with him since our teenage years. Whether it was at some surf contest in San Miguel, Oceanside, or Santa Cruz,  or surfing together at  local places like  State Beach, Topanga,  Malibu, or bumping into him and MaryJo at one of the infamous Don Wilson parties,  or as they were delivering clothing or H2O magazines from San Diego to Santa Barbara in midst of their entrepreneurial adventures of the late 70's, 80's, and 90's. In those days Marty and Maryjo were seemingly ubiquitous up and down the California coast and,  throughout our  acquaintanceship over many years, Marty's presence has always been one of a pleasant, supportive, and especially friendly breath of fresh air.

Here's to Marty's speedy recovery as he, and all of us who know and appreciate him,  continue to have adventures creating and telling new stories well into our late diaper years.

massive lines stacking up.

Yeah . . .  I had good times with Marty, too.   Not as raucous as other accounts.  I was always too protective of my cameras to directly confront the forces that be.  No tossing of grenades or shouting “Nazis” at the police.  Although I did get arrested in Virginia Beach for sleeping in my van.  I was in jail and ready to take it all the way to the Supreme Court.  When Dewey bailed me out and reminded me we had a tour to finish. But I was outraged.  I’d always slept in my van on surf trips.   Standard surf accommodations. 

With Marty, Lucoff, Mike Mishich, etc, etc, we’d spend the night at Cardiff Reef.  

I remember sitting in the parking lot at Swami’s with huge lines rolling thru on a crisp winter morning.  2 or 3 people out?  Maybe nobody.  Yet. 

Marty and Mike Mishich were looking nervously at each other talking about the cold as they looked at the massive lines stacking up.  We were mostly small wave, style-conscious hot-doggers.  And this didn’t fit our mold.  I went out and was soon joined by Marty.   I dropped into a few double overhead walls as did Marty.  We’d look both ways, and realize there was nowhere to go.  I don’t remember if Mishich even paddled out.  Which was an ordeal that day.

Bonesyards at Doheny/Dana Pt. was more our style.  And Marty showed his stuff.  His Dora-esque affinity.  (as featured in “The Living Curl”.)  Marty showed up at the “Premiere” at Duke’s Malibu in 2008 for the digital re-release.   And gave me a glowing intro before the film.  Devoid of all the competitive banter that had accompanied our discussions in the sixties. Thanks, Marty.  Although I did miss the banter.

There was always a political edge in the air on a surf trip with Marty.  Yeah . . . we were there to surf.  But the casual conversations could cover anything from the enlightenment of LSD, Miki’s anti-social antics, the war in Vietnam and a general consensus of life as surfers in the sixties.  Seventies.   I miss that interaction in today’s society: where it’s all reality shows and sound bytes.  By contrast, it makes what we did seem all the more “real” than today.

I was fascinated and appalled with the reports that Marty had gone to Afghanistan (?) to be a journalist.  I mean . . . how was the surf there?  When I asked him about it years later, he said merely, “Yeah.  Got tired of it.  Missed H2O.”   Literally and figuratively.   I guess.

It seemed we were all members of a semi-exclusive club.  And still are.  In spite of the eccentric contrast with the mores of today.

Marty and I sat in the patio at Pepperdine at the “Girls in the Curl” event last year.   Listening to Denny Aaberg playing upstairs.  It felt OK.  Like we had all done our thing and had our time and place.

And still do . . .   sharing antics of the past with the generations of today.  Who all say they wish they’d been there then.

“Don’t it always seem to go . . . . “

Live long and prosper, Marty.

Jamie Budge

State Beach

Marty and I decided to surf Will Rogers State Beach where Chautauqua Road and Santa Monica Canyon meet the sea.  Waves were mediocre at best, but to use a Marty-ism: "it was a go-out."  On the way in Marty calmly tells me that he thinks he has been hit by a stingray.  Sure enough, between the toes on Marty's left foot was a wound flowing bright red blood.  I summoned a lifeguard who sizes up the situation -- the only two people in the water on a lousy surf day and is probably thinking "Kooks." He starts interviewing Marty with questions like: Are you sure it was a stingray? -- Maybe you stepped on something.  How old are you and finally: What is your name?  When the victim replies "Martin Sugarman" the young lifeguard's eyes light up.  MARTY SUGARMAN?!?  You are MARTY SUGARMAN?  Your picture is up on the wall in our tower.  Oh my God, Marty Sugarman you are a hero.  We had to calm him down so he could render first aid.  I shuttled Marty home in his rattly Saab convertible surf-mobile.  We stopped for a smoothie at the health food store next to Horizon Surf Shop on Main Street and laughed about the days events.  The young lifeguard stored Marty's board at the Temescal tower where the photo of Marty's hangs to this day.  He was rewarded for his kindness with the latest issues of H2O Magazine.

Katherine Wellington

San Miguel

I forgot about David and the air brushed Porsche.  oh well we were all in san Miguel for the club contest.

Mickey was in wind and sea and he hated being down there without a hotel.  anyway the old guy (who ran wind and sea)

I forgot his name but anyway he got Mickey a huge tent.  Marty thought that Mickey need a wake up call

so I guess cherry bombs at 5 am would just about do it.  wouldn't it.  

anyway I remember that contest well and in the afternoon we went down to a place not

far from san Miguel called 3m.   The surf had double peaks and was a lined up left.   as luck would

have it there were only 6 of us there.   the go out was David, jock and Gary Chapman-owls older brother.

Marty I and I believe the schlickenmyers.   oh that was the day when weed was in keys and

there were 2 keys on the beach and it was needless to say an awesome session.

David, Marty and jock ripped it up.

when we got back to san Miguel that evening we heard Mickey had spit the scene because someone

had lobbed a grenade in his tent and tried to assassinate him.

oh a perfect day 

Best   Regards

Terry Lucoff

Sugar-Booger

Remember Sugar-Booger stuff?

Like wallpaper, he was always there.

State Beach was not my hang, but I did some time at lighthouse. Plus, the State guys, although fixtures there, seemed to get around.   Marty is more social than some. He'd appear in Oxnard or Malibu or Diego when it was least likely, most unexpected.

His style was then, as it probably is now, conservatively outrageous.  By that I mean, he would often make highly provocative observations, but serve them up as a behind-the- hand comment.  Or he'd leave you, drifting away with that special, almost mincing walk, that Miki had passed on.  (Everyone was affected by Miki-all of us from POP to Malibu. He cast a long shadow.)  Or he'd go out and rip but in a tightly casual, anti-flamboyant way. THAT was a standout feature of his surfing.

I know guys, ex lifeguards from Zuma, who tell stories of Santa Ana days that he was ruling the place, completely alone. 

And his book: H2O? If that wasn't conservative and outrageous at the same time, nothing ever will be.

"Why Jews don't surf." Yeah, like you'd find THAT article in ANY other magazine, ever.

Marty didn't seem to fear the backlash. Maybe 'cause he was a club member, I don't know. But I admire that about him.

He knew that magazines weren't reality, simply amusement. And very occasionally, they could be educational.

Best to you from OZ Marty.

You sounded quite good when I rang and I'm hopeful that your peers from State will come out from under their collective rocks and tell their

Sugarman stories. 

It's been quite a while since we've all had a good read.

Cheers,

Mike Perry/

Australia

Birchers

Marty and I became pals mid sixties and for a while he was a Hobie team guy and rode a CC model.  Really fun dude to hang out with.  He went to Santa Ana College for a semester and rented a room from me in my Capistrano Beach house and we surfed together quite a bit.  He kept telling me everybody in Orange County were "Birchers."  I had no idea what that was but thought it was because the stringers in our boards were made out of birch or something like that.  He was much more political than I was and I liked to think of him as the "Malibu Comi."  Always appreciated his goofy-foot version of Dora style and the fact that he liked to kick back in his darkened room and listen to Donovan albums.  Good guy, I hope he recovers soon.

Corky Carroll

Go Ride a Wave

Worked for Marty at "Go Ride a Wave" in the late 70s. It was an amazing ride, and we both drove VW Squarebacks. His H2O Magazine is a work of art.

Get well soon Marty, South swells are coming.

Paul Diamond

Pacific Beach

On Apr 21, 2011, at 8:36 PM, Gary Ross wrote:

I will always remember an event,  but think it was I was Pacific beach. Somehow I got hooked up with the duo of Terry and Marty at some surf contest. I remember things were in some full blown party mode and somehow I was on some roof top with Marty with a few others.  I remember then seeing a troop of cops marching down the street toward our particular venue and remember being a bit freaked out and wondering what the hell we were going to do.  Marty was cool and just like his smooth style of his surfing and without any hesitation heaved a half full can of beer off the roof and we bolted.  I could not believe it!  I knew I was in way over my head hanging with this guy.   Somehow and not sure how..... it turned out to be the ultimate diversion  and now think maybe some performance art ...     We escaped like a heavy lip of the wave fully covered and escaped into the night.  Marty did not break a sweat and the fun of  it never left  for a moment him or Terry even in the jaws of the PBPD.  I really did not hang with this guy much and wondered if this was just an average everyday adventure for him and Terry?  I learned that this guy is not your everyday can tosser, a very smart guy. Latter I admired his pioneering of the H2O mag and that rag was very cool and always enjoyed seeing him when I did. I know he will escape under the lip if needed, this guy is a legend and wish him a good recovery...

Gary Ross

Oxnard

Remember when,

On Apr 21, 2011, at 11:57 AM, Terry Lukoff wrote:

I got a chance to see Marty yesterday.   he was upbeat and humorous.

we had a really good time and had a lot of "remember when" stories like

the meth model for those who like speed.  if only Jim Cayton knew what  little Johnny was doing at Paul revere. the Huntington contest with waves breaking over the pier and loosing our longboards during our first paddle out

       with the lifeguard yelling "don’t swim near the pier"  as we both nearly drowned.  of course Phil Edwards was on the beach

       watching the first time Mickey took------well that’s another story

thanx for the update drew-

hard to hear he is back at ucla

think good thoughts